In silence Jack walked through the halls heading towards his room.
Thufir once again did not speak, his eyes would occasionally flash white as he had several thoughts, but he mentioned none as none were important enough to mention to Jack, who had been moving with his own thoughts and ideas.
"Thufir," Jack said snapping Thufir out of his thoughts.
"Set a meeting with the representatives of the spacing guild tomorrow."
Thufir was silent for a moment, his eyes flashing white for a moment before he glanced at Jack.
"Young Paul... do you wish to force the spacing guild's hand?" Thufir asked, and Jack nodded.
'He is going to make enemies of everyone before this is over,' Duncan thought to himself as he frowned slightly.
Jack glanced back for a moment and saw Duncan's frown, but he didn't mention it.
His eyes flashed towards Thufir and he noticed the thoughtful expression on his face.
"Say it Thufir."
Thufir paused for a moment before he spoke.
"The Guild has maintained neutrality across ten thousand years of Imperial history, and no house has successfully compelled them.
But in our case, the risk is not that they refuse." He paused. "The risk is what acceptance costs us long term," he said staring at Jack.
"We control spice production. The Guild needs spice more than they need Imperial favor. But forcing them to choose between those two things publicly creates an enemy that will find ways to make House Atreides pay for it quietly across decades."
"I know what it costs," Jack said.
"But without the Guild's testimony, the Emperor walks out of the session three having lost nothing major. The censure gets buried in an inquiry commission that runs for years. House Atreides spends the next decade fighting a slow war of attrition we can't win." He glanced ahead of him.
"The Guild's long term resentment I can manage. Shaddam's short term victory, I cannot." Jack said.
Duncan's frown deepened, but once again, he didn't mention anything.
...
Arriving at his chamber, he walked in while Duncan stood outside guarding the room.
Pulling off his formal attire, Jack walked to the washroom.
Opening the tap, he watched water rush out freely.
'Way better than the trickle you get on Arrakis' he thought as he cupped his hands and splashed his face.
The cold water hit his face.
Jack stood there for a moment, water dripping from his jaw, breathing quietly.
His eyes drifted to the mirror without meaning to.
He stood there for a long time.
The water kept running.
Paul Atreides looked back at him from the glass. The same face he had been looking at for months.
The same pale skin, the same eyes, the same jaw.
He waited for the distance he usually felt.
But it didn't come this time.
Taking a deep breath, Paul turned off the rushing water.
The room went quiet.
He dried his face and walked away from the mirror without looking back.
Getting into his bed.
He let out a long breath.
"What a long day" he muttered to himself as he shut his eyes.
His wrist stung a little, so he flexed it and forgot about it and began to drift to the land of dreams.
...
All of a sudden, the silence was shattered.
The comfortable warmth of his bed was replaced by unbearable heat penetrating his skin.
Barely managing to open his eyes.
All he saw was red sand everywhere.
Wind tore across the desert, relentless and violent. His vision blurred. His ears rang.
'This vision again,' He thought to himself.
In the distance, he saw a person whose robe fluttered wildly, yet his body remained steady.
The heat from the sand felt like it was burning his feet.
The familiar feeling of something crawling under his skin appeared.
Paul expected the man to say something.
He expected the unintelligible words to keep getting louder until he woke up, but many moments passed.
The feeling of something crawling under his skin kept getting intense, but the man in the distance did not speak.
'Why is he not speaking?' Paul wondered. A moment passed, and a sense of slight panic settled.
It almost felt like his body was not his own, the unbearable itch all over his body grew unbearable.
'Am I stuck here??' Paul thought to himself.
His eyes were barely able to move around, he tried glancing at the area but he couldn't.
The sand carried by the strong winds constantly hitting his body, and the itch that seemed to dig into his body's very core grew.
And then...
He just woke up.
His eyes snapped open as he sat up, and his hand quickly moved to scratch the itch that remained all over his body.
But it wasn't as intense anymore.
Several moments passed before the feeling of something crawling and constantly digging into his body waned.
Paul's entire body was wet with sweat.
His breathing a little staggered.
His eyes finally rose from his body to the room and he froze.
A man stood in front of him.
Quiet.
Just staring at him.
He had a long white beard with long, messy white hair.
Sunken blue glowing eyes.
His skin, however, was smooth, and he looked relatively young.
'Intruder' Paul's thoughts moved quickly.
His hand reached his belt with accuracy and care. He activated his shield as he grasped the edges of his blanket and threw it towards the man creating a smokescreen in front of him.
Paul moved quickly, reaching under his pillow he pulled out a crys knife he kept for safety.
Holding tight to the grip, he sprang out behind the blanket that had yet to reach the man who stood at the edge of his bed.
Paul moved swiftly, aiming to attack the man's throat.
The blanket arrived at its destination, but it simply passed through as if there was no one there.
The man still stood there silently as the blanket passed through his body.
Paul paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on the man.
'His body is not really here' Paul thought to himself as he took a few steps back.
Short sword still in hand, his eyes carefully observing the man.
For a moment, none of them moved.