Chapter Text
The holy war begins. Chani leaves.
The ships carrying the inflamed Fedaykin are leaving her planet for destinations she knew nothing about. Stilgar is on one of them somewhere. And her other friends - those that were left.
For her, there was only the desert. She was never the religious sort, but she felt the comfort of a praying child when she called for Shai-hulud, and he answered.
So she wasn't a cursed disbeliever yet, not yet fully fallen, even after committing the sin of decrying their Prophet. And the deeper sin yet, she thought to herself, of leaving her omega behind. The sand and the spice were still her birthrights. She could still ride the gods.
It is only after she is on the worm that she realized that it did not mean that she had anywhere to go. In that, even Shai-hulud couldn't show her the way.
There was nowhere where they wouldn't chant his name. Nowhere where his Sight wouldn't find her. If he cared to look.
For a moment of weakness, just one, she thought of the mouth of a worm. The darkness, the sharp blades, the way sand gave way to its lord. She could too, she thinks. She could also disappear.
-
She ended up in the ruins of Sietch Tabr. Underneath it all, she had only wanted to go home.
That is where Stilgar finds her, two days later. She is near delirious in the pitiful shade with her pithy supplies, and she believed that she has imagined him. As if he were a spirit. The djinn of the stories he was so fond of.
"Chani. Come."
He was real.
Chani sat up. "Don't you have a holy war to fight."
"We do. And the Mahdi leads us on the right path. He leads us well."
That zealous fire was still there in his eyes. Had he always carried this poison somewhere deep within him? Or was it something Paul had brought forward? Had Paul always carried the poison? Or was he, too -
Chani decided she will not think of Paul.
"I have nothing more to say to you, Stilgar."
He nodded. He looked around them at the ruins. And then he looked back at her with the deep, understanding eyes of her naib. Of the man she was sure she had already lost. It was the only thing that kept her from leaving immediately.
"You are a Fedaykin, Chani. One of the finest. Well respected. You are needed."
Chani made no response. If they put a blade in her hand right now, she did not know on whom it will turn.
"You are his alpha."
Chani jolted. In anger, in bitterness. "That princess is his alpha."
"No, no," He shook his head, "That princess will be his wife. Marriage for outsiders is very different from mating, they tell me."
Chani laughed incredulously. It came out hollow. "And so you are one of them now? How completely have you forsaken our ways?"
He closed his eyes, and accepted the blow. "It is a time of many changes. And things have changed much since you left."
Chani stared at him disbelievingly. But then she realized- he was worried. There was something unspoken in his words. He saw that she saw. He was imploring her not to ask. Chani sat up, refusing to back down.
Stilgar sighed. "Usul needs you, Chani."
That is what disarmed her, send a wave of cold through her even in the desert heat. Not Lisan al-Gaib, not the Mahdi. Not even Muad'dib. Usul needs her.
She looked at Stilgar, asking if he knew what he was saying. He looked back at her, a deep sadness in his eyes, and she realized that he does. His eyes narrowed, just a bit.
"Usul needs you. Would you give up so easily?"
Chani goes.
-
In the outsiders’ palace in Arrakeen, they offer her a room to rest. When she refused, they take her to the small chamber that was serving as the council.
It was a strange crowd. Paul's mother was there, without the other reverend mothers. An outsider witch - the fallen Emperor's truthsayer - looking very much like a prisoner. The fallen Emperor's daughter, the Princess Irulan, also a prisoner, but not looking like it at all. Scant familiar faces - Gurney, Stilgar.
But Chani's eyes fell to the most unexpected one. The Harkonnen heir, the one who had fought Paul, was chained to a pillar.
Chani's blade was out instantly. She snarled. "He lives."
Gurney sighed. "Yes, like the Harkonnen roach that he is."
It was certainly devil's work. She had witnessed him fall. She had seen when Paul had driven his knife through him. But then, Paul had been stabbed too.
He was weakened, undoubtedly. His injuries still drained vigour from him. Nonetheless, he found the strength to leer at her.
"I see we managed to summon the pet."
No one paid him any mind, which was exactly what the filthy beast deserved.
"Feyd-Rautha's life has been preserved," Princess Irulan began, "At the request of the Reverend Mother Mohiam. He is important to the Bene Gesserit. And, as we have discovered, to the Emperor."
Chani stared at the Princess and tried to keep any hatred out. Tried to remind herself that she probably didn't like being here, in this position, any more than Chani did.
"Important, how?"
Irulan struggled with the words, and turned to the old witch, who stared ahead silently.
It was Jessica who answered, "For millennia, the Bene Gesserit have carefully bred noble lines with each other to produce the Kwisatz Haderach. A supreme being who can look into the past and future, the way no reverend mother could, to guide humanity into the future."
Chani breathed in. "Paul."
"No." The old woman finally spoke, "It was not meant to be him, but his son. The child of an Atreides and a Harkonnen."
Chani turned back to the Harkonnen prisoner with horror in her eyes. Who, in turn, just gave a sinister, amused smile.
"You are wrong. It is Paul." She turned back and insisted. She has seen his dreams, heard his cries. She may not believe in prophesies, especially the ones crafted to subjugate those like her, but this she was a witness of.
Jessica looked pleased at the assertion. "Yes, he is."
"He matches many signs, yes." The old woman agreed irritably, "Nonetheless, the Bene Gesserit believe that there will be truer prospects. We have planned ahead for this union. Feyd-Rautha and Paul were bred to be mates. It is their biological destiny."
The snarl that left Chani was loud, and unexpected to her. Though no one else seems surprised.
Irulan, at least, winced. "We discovered this soon after - er, soon after you left the hall. Paul checked on Feyd-Rautha to pull out his blade and to finish the job, so to speak. But the scent-change when they touched was recognizable. They are...compatible."
"What a mess we are in." Feyd-Rautha sing-songed from behind. He did not seem troubled. "There is this biology, and now this coven of witches wants their child. And then there is politics - the Atreides boy wants the throne so bad, he must marry the Princess too. I assume there was some similar scheme for us, Princess. To take your hand if I had prevailed?" His laugh was mean, "A proper geometry, this is."
Irulan resolutely ignored him, and continued. "The complications are furthered, of course, by the fact that Paul is already mated."
The room turned to Chani. Chani keeps her face neutral and resisted looking at Stilgar. So this is why he had brought her here. A small hope lights in her heart. Her naib had still valued at least some of their old ways.
Reverend Mother Mohiam tch'd. "He is an omega. He can be shared."
At the same time, Jessica spoke, "Chani, surely you understand the situation. You must give up your...hold over him."
Chani would have sliced both their throats, but even a Fedaykin like her understood where silence and inaction were golden.
"We will have them mated." Mohiam says, "And in turn, Bene Gesserit will support the Atreides' ascension. Consider the value of this carefully."
Chani was not sure who she was addressing. Who among them presumed to make this decision? She looked at face after face. All of them thought they had a say. All of them were fools.
"There will not be a Harkonnen on throne," was the only objection, from Gurney.
"No." Mohiam agreed with the dismissive wave of her hand. This did not concern her in the least. "Princess Irulan will be Paul's alpha, by marriage. She will be on the throne. We can move forward once this Fremen woman ends the -"
Chani had had enough of this obnoxious woman. "Where is he? Where is the Emperor?"
Silence. Only broken by Feyd-Rautha, who looked around. "Yes, indeed. I, too, would like to see the pretty darling-"
Chani had enough time to walk over and punch him across the face, before Stilgar took her away.
-
Gurney lead her to a different chamber, and when Chani entered, Paul was poring over a carefully lain out structure. A war map.
He did not look at them when he waves a hand over, "Gurney, we need to blockade-"
"Paul."
His old master's voice made him look up. He saw them - and he froze. Just like Chani had. It seems like she had somehow caught their prescient prophet unaware.
Good. She thought to herself. He could still be surprised.
She tried not to study him too carefully. She had stopped looking when his blue eyes had hardened beyond a certain point.
He did, however. He looked and looked, and she did not know what he was thinking. She let him. Only later, she will notice that Gurney had left. That she was alone with the Emperor of the Known Universe. Who, once upon a time, had been her omega.
"Chani..."
Chani gave a not quite smile, still couldn't bring herself to look at him, fearful of what she would find if she did. "What is with the face? Your mother said that you had already seen me returning."
He looked down, abashed. For a moment he looked so much like her Usul like Chani thought her heart would burst.
"Yes. But I didn't - I didn't know when you would return. Or how." He seemed lost. Was he happy? Relieved? Indifferent? What did it even matter. "Please, Chani, sit."
He will play the host, then. Very well. Chani could be a guest.
"I cannot tell you how glad -"
"Do you know what they are speaking about in your demented council?" Chani's voice came out far angrier than she had expected, "Do you know how they speak of you?"
It was a rhetorical question. Of course he knew. She watched as his mouth tightened; his face hardened. "Let them. They can do nothing. They mean nothing."
There it was again, that unkindness, that inhumanity that the poison had given him. Was this to be their destiny then? Swinging between two forms of existence? Between hope and fear?
And there it went, right then it swung again. Paul softened as he sat next to her. She could see the twitch of his body; she could sense his need to come to her arms. But he was afraid to come closer. And so was she. What was once natural, the most natural thing to them is no more.
"Is that why you came?" He asked her instead, softly.
Chani thought it over. "There is no telling why Stilgar did what he did. Perhaps he seeks to buy time. Or perhaps he could not see clearly. He told them that we are mates."
Paul glanced at her. She was surprised to see that he looked afraid. "Are we not?"
Chani blinked. Why was he playing with her? There was no way he did not realize. There were many, many voices in his head now. Surely one of them would have told him.
"The bond broke, Paul." Chani murmured, to confirm to herself as much as to him. "It broke with your breath."
Paul didn't react, not immediately. His eyes softened, his mouth grimaced. Chani knew that expression. He was within his mind.
The surprise on his face when he realized the truth of her words appeared genuine, but she had been fooled before. She used to think she understood each movement of him, each expression. And look where that had gotten her.
His hand went to his neck, to touch the mark hidden by the stillsuit. The mark which must be close to fading now. Chani was still angry, but she felt a surge of protectiveness, a remnant of her old love she was determined to forget. Paul’s mind must be a warzone if he had not managed to notice such a grave untethering. Him, who was always attuned to her, to everything around him, the desert itself.
She tried to imagine what this condition must feel like. The past and the future. Voices on voices on voices. She wondered, then, if he was in pain.
"Have you seen what is to become of us?" She prompted gently, the way she used to wake him from his dreams.
Paul looked at her, that disastrous pendulum was somewhere in the middle now. His eyes beseeched her. His mouth was petulant. He was sure he deserved the universe; he was afraid that he will be denied it.
"How can I make you stay?"
Chani scoffed. "You can make me do anything, obviously."
“No, that’s not what –“ He shook his head, shuffled to break the invisible barrier between them and lay his hand on hers. She understood his desperation: the future was uncertain, perhaps because even she did not know what she will do. A man of his nature would not appreciate that.
"Chani, please, anything. Punish me however you see fit. I am yours to do as you like. I am yours."
"Is what they say true? About you and the Harkonnen." She was eager to change the conversation, to stop Paul from offering something she knew she could never have.
Paul stiffened. His voice was a low growl. "I will never have that child."
As was his right. Chani nodded, "But are you destined to be mates?"
"Chani, I-" He was on shaky grounds, and that was answer enough. But Chani waited for him to say it. "Yes."
"And you must marry the Princess. To get the loyalty of the great houses."
"She will not have a moment of tenderness from me. She is a prisoner, nothing more. You must know this."
So thus it was settled. His mating was supposed to honour the Kwisatz Haderach. His marriage, the Emperor. But what of the man? The council did not think, and perhaps Paul, too, had forgotten. Now she understood how correct, how precise, Stilgar had been. Usul needed her.
Chani was no prophet, but this future she could witness easily. The holy war had begun, and it could not be stopped. Likely not even by Paul. And yes, he had betrayed her and her people to start it.
But the flames had risen, and he stood in the middle of it all. Capable and hardened, but also singular. So very alone. Her anger was not enough that she would rejoice in watching him burn. To leave him here and now would be a betrayal worse than his.
Her heart settled and, immediately, so did Paul's vision. He looked at her, his eyes wide in understanding. Where she had expected a display of victory, smugness even, there was only relief.
He lifted her palms in his own and lowered his head to kiss them. A gesture of supplication. Submission. Chani looked away. It was impossible to not be swayed by such a precious gift.
"These days have been heavy." She said instead. "Mating will settle you. Both of us, really. Let us be quick."
Paul scrambled immediately. Chani couldn’t help but smile a little as she watched him rush to the mattress by the side of the room. So much had changed so rapidly, but his body – bewitching, beautiful – was intimately familiar to her. The way his long legs folded beneath him, slightly bowed. The way his waist tapered, and his neck stretched.
She followed him where he sat on the sheets, looking up at her eagerly. She put her arms around him, and wasted no time in crashing her lips against his. A little harder than she used to. A little more claiming.
He made no complains. He opened his mouth for her. They breathe into each other, their waters mix, and oh she had been parched. She explored that sweet mouth, that wet, skilful tongue. Her omega always gave her so much.
Paul's breath deepened, and he began to move against her in that intentional, inviting way. Heat coursed through Chani's veins, right from the dark pit in her belly, blood rushed between her legs. Her instincts pushed her forward. Her omega wanted to offer himself to her. What kind of alpha would not take?
She pulled away from his lips to kiss his neck instead. Stretched and exposed, each bit of the pale skin hers to mark, the soft heartbeat fluttering in the vein in below the skin.
Paul mewled. "Chani - Chani-"
His breath was erratic, his hips gyrated in small circles, codpiece pushing against hers in a bid of desperation. Chani huffed out a laugh as she pushed him, pressed down to hold him in place. She had asked him to rush and he, as always, had obeyed.
Their eyes meet when she pulled away. His glittered, bright and curious and daring. Hers, she had no doubt, were dark. He smiled then, pure mischief and sin.
She threw him against the wall.
He gave a small oof, his desire sharpening, as Chani pulled his legs forward and seated herself over him, thighs each side of his, face bent right over his. They look at each other for just a moment, and Chani pressed down.
Paul was still keening when Chani ordered, "Take your stillsuit off."
He set to work without any hesitation, quick and compelled as if she had used witch magic on him. He unclasped the suit from the shoulders without looking away from her. watched, entranced. His smooth skin revealed itself bit by bit, still somehow soft and untarred. Conflict after conflict, injuries and war - nothing seemed to take away the innate beauty and softness of her omega.
And there it was, the half-moon of a mark she had given him on a precious morning in their yali. It was still dark against his skin, still declaring their promise to each other. His fingers caressed it, his breathing deepened and his eyes darkened. As if the mark itself had become a point of stimulation. As if he was showing it off to her.
Chani's growl was deep and low. She pushed against him, and he gasped as he fell flat on his back. Beneath her own suit, she was already hard. She had no doubt that Paul knew that. She had no doubt that she, too, would find him ready.
But Chani intended to take every little bit of time they had. She lessened the pressure on his hips and leaned over him fully to trap him against the floor. This is how Paul liked it best, beneath her, held in place.
He surrendered easily as she pressed his arms above his head, let his legs fall open as her knees pressed them outwards. He had always been a docile omega, but today he had said anything and meant it.
Chani went for the mark. She licked and sucked the skin all around it, reminding him of it as much as herself. It was true that the bond had broken, that the mark technically was now only a bruise. But as he laid spread out below her, as she revelled in his distinct, spiced scent and as the he looked at her with his serious earnestness, heated and alive, it was so easy to forget.
No, Chani was not blind to the changes. There was a hard line to his mouth now, a swallowing depth to his eyes. He was there, but not fully there. Fragmented in many places. And all the while watching his own fragments - and so much more. The past, the future.
The first time she had seen him like this, Chani had felt a deep fear in her bones that she pretended was repulsion. A lie that made it easier to deal with, rather than to dwell on how her omega slipped through her fingers, how she could not protect him.
She had rushed away, confused and hurting, and she had neglected to see what she saw now. How hard Paul was still trying to be with her. How difficult it was for him, beneath the cool mask that had slipped on his face.
It propelled her in a different direction this time. If Paul was reaching out to her, even just a little, nothing in the universe could stop her from making her way to him.
She felt that possessiveness, gathered that innate desire, as she bit into his neck. It wasn't a mating bite, not yet, but it brought her back to the moment she had first bit into him. The swell of his gland was the same, the tempting scent that was all around them, also the same. She licked the bruise she had created, tasting the salt and the moisture of his skin, all of it the same, the very same.
Paul whined at the not-quite-there-yet claim. He gasped and jumped up closer to her, every bit of him deliciously begging for more. "Please Chani- harder - I need -"
Chani obliged. Another bite, and then another, down his neck and shoulders. She growled in frustration when she came up against the stillsuit that had not been removed completely. Paul had no business being covered.
She ripped it off further to expose his chest. Paul’s arms went around her neck, his nose right into her glands. He rocked into her wildly.
Chani played with one of the nipples she had exposed before taking the small nub between her nails and twisting. Paul responded with a gasping moan, and Chani smiled. He was always so sensitive.
She was not done though, not even close. She brought her mouth to it, sucking and teasing with her teeth, before biting down.
Paul cried, his hands pushing into her hair and trying to pull her closer. Chani would go only at her pace though, and she took her time with him. She put her hand to the other nipple. There would be no part of him that would not display her claim. By the time she has had enough of him to suit her tastes, Paul was a whining, warmed mess.
Good.
She peeled away the stillsuit further, there was still so much territory for her to mark - and that's when she saw it. Her fingers paused at once.
Hers were not the only marks on his body. The wound where the Harkonnen had slid in his blade bloomed red and bright. Chani recoiled in anger - the bruise hadn't even been fully dressed yet, the pain of it must still be sharp.
But that was not the only complaint she had, she confessed to herself. Not after she had heard the witches' plans for Paul and that animal. Not after Paul had confirmed it himself.
Feyd-Rautha had left himself behind in that bruise, in that broken skin. He had marked Paul. With violence, yes. But violence was his only language after all.
Paul sensed the shift in her temperament and moved to action immediately. He whined, exposing his neck to her, distracting her through the sight, the small sounds, and that consuming scent. His hand grasped her head sincerely now, and he pushed her face to his neck. Away from the sight of that bruise to a place where she was only surrounded by him.
"Chani, I need you to bite me, as hard as you can. Please, I need - it is the only thing I want to think about. Please, Chani, I don't want to think -"
She will, Chani thought, she will. The omega beneath her now was not her beloved, not completely. He was transformed. Her fingers danced around the wound on his side. He was marked, by cruelty. And Chani realized that she swung in her own way between the two realities of that, just like he did. Not unlike each other, after all.
Should she turn away, look away from both his wound and his hard eyes? Or should she bite as hard as she could, like he wanted, and dig out her omega from beneath the sands of his destiny with her bare teeth?
Her heart knew the answer. Chani couldn't give up without a fight. And Chani could never deny Paul anything he had asked for.
She bit down, hard. Their scents mingled; the tendrils of their bond flared with life.
Paul cried out, a deep pleasure and satisfaction mixed in with the pain. He did that for her, Chani knew. He handled much greater pains silently, but now he wanted her to know the pleasure and satisfaction she had given him. He wanted her to know his pain.
Chani licked the mark to soothe. Felt her mind and soul mix with his, like it had for all through their bond. The absence of which she had felt as if someone had pulled out her heart through her mouth. But no, still it was different. She comes across a coldness that prevents her from looking further into him. Chani growled, and pulled away to kiss his chin and his mouth. She will have to bite one more time. She will get him ready. She will have him melt for her.
She brought her lips close to his ears. "I will have you now."
Paul nodded. His nimble fingers made quick work of her stillsuit. He looked at her with a smile and pulled her into a deep kiss. Chani took over, shifting to pull her suit off completely, then helping him out of his. She moved back and they connect again, skin on skin this time.
Chani wasted no time in tracing down his chest and stomach, playing with the light dusting of hair, the supple skin, to reach between his legs. Paul welcomed her, his legs falling open and hips rising seductively. Their eyes met, and Chani saw the same intensity of desire in him that she held.
She pushed a finger in him, and his folds parted easily for her. He was already giving her moisture, her finger practically drip with it as she moved inside him. Adding another finger presented no issue at all - he adjusted around her and raised his hips further to give her better leverage.
He was whining, soft and low, as he wrapped his legs around her waist and began to move in rhythm with her fingers. His plush mouth was open, his eyes closed. He wanted all of her.
"Chani - I'm ready."
Chani shushed him. "No, you are not. You are just being eager."
He whined louder then, but did not protest against her judgement. Chani watched him take her in deeper and deeper, as if there was some part he was anxious for her to touch. Something deep within him, and not necessarily of flesh.
Now he was opening easily when she scissored her fingers in him. She added another digit, and he gasped as he tried to engulf her further in. His head fell back, he pushed into her fingers as much as he could, shivering in pleasure. When she felt him clench around her, she decided that it was sufficient.
She slowed her hand. "Do you want my tongue on you?"
He opened his eyes to look at her. He had clenched again at the idea, clearly receptive, but then shook his head. "No, not- not today - I want-"
His eyes fell between her legs, where she was already hard and ready. His hand followed, and he wrapped his long fingers around her.
"I want you in me -"
Chani cursed. She didn't think she could get harder, but Paul grip brought her to her fullness. His touch was just right, just hard enough, just in the right spots. The soft sounds he made and that hungry gleam in his eyes did not help either. He knew her too well; he will be her undoing.
Paul pumped up and down her length until Chani was rocking into him. He did the same, rubbing himself on her hand, forward and back, a dance just between the two of them. Chani felt the tip of her wet, a drop of moisture escaping the head.
Paul swiped it with his thumb and, making sure that she was looking at him, brought the digit to his mouth. His pink tongue darted out to taste her, he took his thumb in his mouth to suck.
Enough. Chani could resist no longer. With a snarl she was upon him, her nose buried in his neck, her groin pressing into him. He yelped at the suddenness of her attack, but adjusted and surrendered quickly.
"You want to suckle?" Her voice was low and commanding, "Go ahead, then."
Chani pulled out her fingers out of him and brought them to Paul's mouth. Without much preamble, she pushed all three of them all the way in. His lips stretched around them and his eyes widened. He groaned as he adjusted. His tongue grew bolder in tasting their mingled tastes.
Once he found his pace, he turned to look at her through his lashes. His eyes were dark and lidded. His lips glistened. He looked wrecked.
Chani groaned into him. His devastation may be an act, who even knew, but he will certainly spell her destruction. She would give him anything he wanted, she realized. She was entirely in his control. As she always had been. She was beginning to not mind it so much.
She moved her hips to line herself with his opening. She took his hand and intertwined their fingers. With a deep breath, she pushed into him.
She didn't stop until she was fully seated in him, going slowly but at a steady pace. Paul writhed beneath her. His heat, his tightness, was utterly divine. A miracle, just like all of him. She had to take a few breaths to calm herself.
He, too, had attempted to stifle his cries at first, sucking harder and harder on her fingers, but by the end - when Chani had pulled them out - his moans were clear and wanton.
Chani pulled out to slam in him again.
"Harder- please - ah - harder -"
Chani had no choice but to follow his wish. She began to fuck him in the earnest. His body wrapped around her, taking her shape. The friction, nonetheless, would have hurt. Chani suspected he was cherishing the pain.
For her, it was simply incomparable. Every nerve ending in her was singing, each fibre of her being called out to its mate and rejoiced in his primal response. Chani wanted to stretch out this pleasure to infinite moments. Chani also wanted to tip him over the edge as soon as she could.
Paul's legs around her waist tightened. His nails scratched down her back.
"Deeper - deeper please. I need more - more - alpha!"
This desperation in him was new. An urge that went further than lovemaking, an urge to become one and the same. Chani held onto his shoulders and lifted one of his legs to angle herself, going as deep, as hard as she could.
That satisfied him. He trembled and moaned. He pulled her in closer. And Chani went, kissing and biting and claiming all the way.
"Yes, there!" Paul cried out, when she found the bundle of nerves in him. Good, very good. Chani teased his sensitive earlobe, licked over the mark she was creating, all the while she went deeper and deeper within him.
Paul's body was beginning to show the tell-tale tremble. His stomach tightened, his fingers dug into her, his muscles clenched all around her. All of it, a silent plea. Chani understood. His pleasure wasn't too far now.
Chani lifted herself up and moved a hand to between his legs, right above his folds where his pleasure point was. She was firm when she pressed in, quick when she rubbed it in little circles.
The response from Paul was instant. His legs kicked up and his mouth dropped open, his eyes stared sightlessly, completely lost in pleasure. He wasn't in control anymore - his body acted on its own urges. Very, very good.
Chani continued her thrusts. Her own situation was not much different. She felt the swell of pleasure deeper than she had recently. She was sure she will knot.
Her eyes moved to Paul to study him. She would rather that he came before her knot thickened. That way, the pain of the stretch will be lost in his pleasure. She did not wish to hurt her omega.
"Chani, Chani!" He called out blindly. He wasn't really seeing her, nor expecting a reply. Chani leaned forward to soothe him nonetheless.
"Usul, I am here, I am here." He closed his eyes, his body raised to meet her thrusts and her fingers. "Seek your pleasure, my love. I am here."
"Chani, please, alpha, ah-"
His coming was violent. He shook all over, writhing and trembling, and his body clenched down hard on Chani. Chani cursed again. It was all she needed. She let Paul crest, as blood rushed between her legs and her knot swole.
Paul twitched around her at the stretch and then Chani was clasped within him. She cried out, the sensations in every bit of her indescribable. Only the thought of Paul's discomfort prevented her from losing herself completely.
But he didn't seem troubled. His orgasm still shook through him, supple skin trembling all over, and his head had fallen back. His swollen lips moved to mouth silent words. His blue eyes were glazed as they stared at the ceiling. He did not seem fully present to any pain.
He did not seem fully present - no. No.
Chani threw herself over him, fierce and possessive. She would not lose her omega to any visions. Not right now.
"Hey, hey," she slapped him lightly, feeling an odd mix of guilt and arousal at the transgression. "Come back to me, right now."
Paul stirred. He looked at her with hazy eyes, lost in prophesy, or in pleasure, or both. He tried to say something, but no words came out. Only a soft, pleading mewl. Chani watched, entranced by the otherworldly beauty of him. Before she sprung to action again.
She continued to thrust in him. The knot made it a tighter fit - Paul would certainly feel it for a few days - but she hoped the pain would wake him up. She placed her mouth on his neck, sucking at the bruises she had left earlier.
"I am here, Paul. And you will not think of anything else." She nipped his ear, harder and harder, until she felt him respond to her. "I will not let you."
Her voice was more a plea than command. There was fear laced through it. But it was true. She meant every word of it. She was here. And she will not lose him.
"Do you understand?" Chani growled, "Do you understand me, Usul?"
Paul blinked, breathing hard. "Ch-chani-"
His voice was so faraway. He was faraway, trying, trying so very hard, to find his way to her.
Chani knew what she had to do. She had brought him to completion. She had knotted him. She took a deep breath and placed her mouth over the mark she had been chiselling on his neck. There was only one thing to do.
Chani bit, to claim her mate.
Oh it takes, it takes. Awareness jolted through Paul, and through him through her. They were connected, they were connected once more. Chani dug in deeper, claiming, punishing, until she was sure she could not be pulled apart from him.
They despondent bond between them was given a new lease on life and it burst with energy. Pleasure and joy and devotion spread from it to every pore of her being, filled her with a deep sense of contentment. Of rightness.
She felt her belly tighten, dancing to this song of their mating. She was crying out and Paul, beneath her, cried out the same. Her work was done. She had pulled him back from the brink.
Chani surrendered to her body's demand and came deep within Paul. Her palm went to his stomach. Tracing the skin over where her seed warmed him, marked him.
She was breathing hard. There was a deep sense of finish and of tiredness within her. Her knot had not abated fully, she still had more to give to her omega, but that would have to wait. For now she just looked at Paul, her eyes lidded.
He was looking at her too. Fully aware, fully present. There was a delirious joy in his blue eyes, even though, she noticed, that some moisture had come out of them. He was crying.
Chani darted to kiss his tears away and Paul held her like that, close to him.
"I am yours, Chani." There was a childish wonder in his voice, as if he couldn't believe what he was saying, what was happening, "I am yours."
Chani nodded. She leaned in to kiss his cheeks. He was tired too. He needed to rest.
"And I yours, Usul." She assured him, kissing each eyelid close. "Always."
He sighed, deeply pleased and content, and adjusted himself beneath her. They were still connected where she was within him. And their bond also enveloped them together. It was all that mattered.
His breathing slowed. Chani wrapped herself around him. They slept together.
It was really all that mattered.
-
The sun was rising, the palace had gone quiet, and Paul wondered to himself – a son, or a daughter?
He ran his hand over his womb where, inside, Chani's spent was still warm. He could choose any bit of her seed to take root within him.
He smiled at the how full he was; Chani had been generous. It had been a long mating and his capable alpha had left him more than satisfied.
She slept now. He turned to kiss her.
He imagined his mother musing in the same way as she laid with his father. Or rather, he remembered it. Her memories are within him, right up to this moment, right before she had decided to conceive him, and change the universe.
His decision had far less weight. A son, or a daughter. Conceived now, or later. It didn't make much difference. The child he will carry for Chani will die. He had seen it.
Why not a son then? He will name him after his father. Perhaps he will conceive tonight, or perhaps another night. He will think about it.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, his indifference surprised him. But once a path was decided, once it was committed to, it was not so much different from having lived it.
He had already seen it, all of it. He had already had his son, nursed him, loved him - loved him more than it should be possible to love. And he had already lost him.
It is a narrow shard of future he will be stepping on. On this path, he will have a child and his child will die. But Chani...Chani will stay.
His hand traced over his stomach again. He smiled.
He had seen it.