Thread: Student of Dune (DarkAngel & Sync)

Fremen eyes narrowed slightly as the young woman presented the crysknife, followed by an admission of lack of knowledge in its use - or the use of any knife as a fighting weapon, Tal presumed. The giving of such a blade to a non-Fremen, especially one who had no idea of its use... You've been given a gift, young Atriedes, he observed quietly - or as quietly as he could and still be heard over the noise of the storm outside. A crysknife - the blade of a Fremen warrior - is given to Fremen, and only rarely to outsiders. A Fremen starts training in their use when they are six years of age. An outsider...has to earn such a weapon. The blades are fashioned from the teeth of a maker - a worm - crafted and honed to a fine edge. Once Fremen were hunted for their blades, and holding such a blade was seen as a trophy, a badge of honour by off-worlders. It was thought that a crysknife, blue-in-blue eyes, and a stillsuit would make a person able to infiltrate our sietches, to let them spy on us. Such people were always caught out by their knowledge of the desert. He remained still and silent for a moment, continuing to stare intently at the young woman, studying her carefully. He was appraising her, he knew there was potential in her, and if she was as keen to learn as she'd stated, then she may yet prove her worth to the tribe. Ravis would have known more, would have known just what this woman was to do in the sietch...but Ravis was not with him. Ravis had walked into the desert to die, so that this woman could live. He knew his earlier insult had hit her, just from the way she'd turned her head to the side. Had he intended to cause that reaction? He couldn't say. He also knew that, in Ravis' absence, he would have to be more mindful of this woman she would pass to him in Ravis' absence. Ghanima, he reflected, almost randomly, a slightly-different inflection in his voice as he uttered the word. It means 'spoil of war'. Your mother was called that by the Mahdi, recognising that she was born from strife and battle that claimed her mother. It is likely that you will become my 'ghanima', given that you passed into my care during the fighting that claimed Ravis. As 'ghanima', you will be my responsibility to look after, my responsibility to care for...my responsibility to teach. As my 'ghanima', I will be responsible to ensure you act in the good of the tribe, and I will carry the weight of any mistakes you make. He paused, then took a deep breath, let it out slowly. I will begin schooling you in the use of a blade when we reach sanctuary, he offered firmly. Not here, not now. For now, there will be other things you will need to learn. We have a long journey ahead of us, yet, beyond the equator of Arrakis. By 'thopter, a good number of hours at least. On foot...we will have to ride a worm, maybe three. They do not like being ridden for excessive periods, they get tired. You will start learning about the desert as we travel. For now, we rest, and wait the storm out. Once the storm has gone, we will begin your study. There were a number of things he could have said in response to Ghani's comment about not being there for him, he knew...but he chose to say none of them. Farad'n knew that the wiser course of action was to let her comment go without rebuke. He could have taken the moral high-ground, but that would have been just petty, especially in the here and now, in this moment of grief and sadness. He merely shook his head dismissively. He was content enough that she'd accepted his embrace, had even settled into it. The light touching of her hand to his cheek wasstimulating, pleasantly so., and he found his thumb again moving to carefully brush the tear away as it slowly rolled down her sun-kissed skin. Then she looked to that artwork he'd made. His hands had been bored on that occasion, and he'd chosen to occupy them by making...something. It had turned out to be a miniature hawk, similar to the animal that was the symbol of House Atreides carved into soft sandstone, it had been fashioned remarkably well, the animal standing upright and proud with folded wings, and had been hardened and polished upon completion. The stone itself have provided light and shadow effects, and the polishing finish had somehow enhanced the effect. It's nothing special, he replied modestly. The stone and finish make more of it than it probably deserves. I did study something of craftwork when I was a child - as a prince and heir to a House Major, I was expected to have a wide variety of skills and knowledge and talent. I could show you how I did- He stopped abruptly as he realised...she probably wasn't referring to the stone. He'd already misinterpreted her once, he knew, and he was possibly about to do so again. His cheeks flushed slightly. -but you weren't referring to the artwork...were you? It was phrased as a question, his voice quieter than earlier...but it wasn't a question that needed to be answered. Not with words, anyway. He took a gamble...he gently curled a forefinger and used it to tilt her head up slightly, then placed a soft and tender kiss on her lips. It was a brief kiss, one followed by a firm and comforting - he hoped - embrace. I've always been there for you, Ghani, he murmured quietly.