sandsnake, samarium

⏳ chani/irulan
🎐 dune 2
🌤️ rated E, oneshot, 5k words
🔗 read on ao3

preview:

Curiosity makes Chani waver. Curiosity compels Chani to keep her dagger perfectly still, to raise two fingers, and run them just shy of the surface of the fabric bunched at Irulan’s waist.

The fabric is like nothing Chani has ever felt. The properties of chainmail, but featherlight. She inhales in wonder, despite herself.
Irulan remains unmoving.

“Made from the saliva of birds who only come to roost in our palace once every seven standard years.” Irulan says.

“It feels unreal.”

“I am fortunate to wear it.”

Chani hums, a noncommittal noise under her breath. She could get lost in this, the taxonomy and origin of this garment instead of what she has come here to do. Her mission.

Nonetheless, she cannot stop her gaze from roving across the way the fine fabric ripples on the Princess’s stomach, as the Princess breathes.

“You focus only on the immediate. Of pain and passion, of your moment.” Irulan says, in the silence. “What is it that you truly believe?”

Chani snaps her gaze back up. Chani adjusts the knife, uses the flat side of its twisting blade to tilt Irulan’s chin up. “I believe this conversation’s over, Princess.”