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trans_92009-08-07 09:57 pm
worm-dancer.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92009-08-07 09:57 pm
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Hear the desert sigh Sing the city's lullaby [closed]
A quick message to the comms had summoned her wayward sister to her. Now Sheeana stood in the statuary, beneath columns both Doric and Ionian columns and a curved roof like that of a cathedral. The floor was marble and inexplicably maintained to a reflective sheen, showing the impromptu aba robe she'd tied together from some dusty old curtains in an alien office building, spare features still with no waterfat but with a quirked up smile and mischevious eyes that made her a valued seductress for the Sisterhood.
Outside, her worm paced in a nearby pen. She'd commanded it to stay there and asked Arha to leave hers with it. This process could agitate both of them.
It was time for them to Share.
Outside, her worm paced in a nearby pen. She'd commanded it to stay there and asked Arha to leave hers with it. This process could agitate both of them.
It was time for them to Share.
2/2
Just in time. The Honored Matres where there with their rage and their questing and their obliterator weapons. "Cossacks" the old Rabbi would later call them and Other Memory would confirm the appropriateness of the term. I watched from the window as everything I knew was once again annihilated. Shaitan was once again with me, in the hold.
They introduced me to their ghola: Duncan Idaho. Something awakened in me there and I asked Darwi about it, who gave me a typically roundabout Bene Gesserit answer and patted my head.
I spent years there, learning everything they could teach me. I was a literjohn to be filled with their knowledge. From their captive Honored Matre I learned the forbidden things: sexual manipulation. I could bond a man to me, and knowing this, I knew there were ways for the Bene Gesserit to undermine those Whores from the Scattering.
I would later learn that they had intended me to control Duncan and that he had initially assesed me as "that little twit from Arrakis". The resulting hurt I assesed with my newfound awareness. How foolish of Lucilla to think she could control him. We were both wild things.
I was the youngest recorded to have survived the Agony and from there I went to desert watch. Chapterhouse was becoming a second Dune and I was to mastermind the transition. "I am mother to worms that may never come." I remember saying that in those years of waiting. Lots of different sexual partners, which was an interesting diversion and a way to sharpen my skills but not really satisfying. I am a desert creature.
Six months ago, success. The worms were small but they were there. Darwi too had a plan, but one that required confronting Spider Queen in her lair. Dangerous. I wished her luck but did not try to persuade her from going. Such was not the Bene Gesserit way.
Just before I was snatched up, the lighters landed. Murbella, the captive HM and now a Reverend Mother was now head of both orders. I could not abide it. I would not be teacher to those whores. And it hurt Duncan so. So we stole the No-Ship and set off, artists on a new and infinite canvas.
In retrospect, everything I have ever done has been influenced by the Tyrant...No, I know him well enough by now. By Leto the Second. His revenants ate my village, his priests took me in, his ghola was my friend and his Scattering produced the whores. I did not ask for his Golden Path, but he has paid it anyway. I will accept the gift and pay it forward.
She was a moment gaining equilibrium. It didn't need to be said because they both knew it: We are alike.
Re: 2/2
An older self, her own self, one voice among thousands, the eyes the same, the face a little more won but well aged. It was her, there, with a child upon her knee. A grandchild, a great grandchild. Fine lines, desert caressed, long red hair. A seitch. Small memories. She did not look long, for it would be something to come back to.
So. I am here in you. Distant, but here. Perhaps it explained the affinity, the identification. A piece of Self knowing Self in a different form. Arha lad to lean into Sheeana and draw in the, thankfully, drier air. They were more alike than could be imagined.
The history sank itself into her like a weight and Sheeana's experiences weighed heavily. Arha did not cry for she was Fremen, but the sorrow was there.
no subject
She grasped the other woman to herself. Darwi, you would be proud of me. I am a heretic too.
"The gene..." She didn't need to say the rest. The gene that lets me command the worms. It's not just because i'm related to Leto. It's a distant descendant of the one you have. Much mutated, more powerful, but the ancestry is clear.
no subject
"And now I truly feel like an ancient thing." It was said with wry amusement. All Reverend Mothers were ancient in their own ways, with Other Memory paving the road of knowledge and its many, many paths. Arha was weary, but would not give into it. Such a Sharing was draining, shocking, enlightening all at once. "But we are known. I am proud to know I have, in some infinitesimal way, been a part of your creation. Ancient as I may be, here I stand. Here you stand, not alone, we two. And this is a great strength."
no subject
She leaned against her. This sharing had been unusually tiring. She'd had to let four thousand years flow from herself. The Tyrant's reign, the famine times, the Scattering, the war with the Honored Matres...It had poured like heavy cream and now she felt herself a half filled cup.
"Sister I fear Shai Halud may grow agitated without our presence. Let us reassure them and I can show you my progress on the sandpen."
no subject
"I would be interested in seeing that," she murmured. "And Duncan seems...fascinating." Her tone shifted with notes of veiled amusement buried in with the inherent curiosity.