Kael did not move.
The crysknife stayed where Paul had left it and nobody spoke.
The Fremen watching from the rocky edges above were still, their silence a different kind than the silence before the fight.
That silence had been anticipation. This one was something else entirely.
Paul stood at the center of the opening as his breathing became steady. His leg throbbed faintly where the blade had gone in, and the strength in his leg was quickly slipping, but he did not look down at it.
Silently, he pulled it out and threw the blade to the side.
Instantly, he felt the thing in him act.
Setting off, it arrived at the stba wound as it began doing its thing.
The bleeding was the first to be suppressed.
Kynes was silent as she looked at the stab wound.
Her eyes had dropped to Paul's wound the moment Kael fell and had not moved since, and now that Paul had removed the crysknife, Kyens could observe more clearly.
The fabric of the stillsuit around Paul's thigh was cut cleanly where the crysknife had entered.
There should have been blood pouring out through it by now, but there wasn't.
Stilgar saw it too.
For a moment they glanced at each other, and they understood that something was not right, but neither of them said anything.
Naib Inal was very quiet, he had not moved from where he stood when the duel ended, his eyes fixed on Kael's body with an expression Paul could not fully read. Not grief exactly. Not shame. Something closer to recalculation.
But the expression on Naib Rauth's face was clear.
He felt sorrow.
It was Majes who finally broke the silence.
He did not stand. He tapped his cane once against the stone floor, the sound carrying cleanly through the open air.
"You fight like someone who has seen the fight before it happens," Majes said.
He asked a question dressed as an observation.
Paul met his eyes.
He said nothing for a moment, letting the silence sit between them.
"I am just better." Paul finally said.
Majes held his gaze for a long moment, then slowly nodded.
"We are not finished," he said as he turned around and carefully began walking towards the council room.
...
Back in the council room, Paul had a white bandage on his leg as he sat in his chair.
Paul's eyes flashed towards the empty cup of Melange tea for a few moments.
His eyes lifted as he glanced towards the Naib's.
He felt the thing inside of his leg clawing away at his injury even now, but the intensity had become far more bearable.
Taking a deep breath, Paul began speaking.
"I will keep Leto's arrangements in place. The stillsuit production lines continue, and we will scale them as promised, and it stands." He said first to reassure them, he also paused for a moment letting that settle before continuing.
"But I am not here to simply continue what my father started." he said as his eyes moved across the Naibs one by one before settling on Naib Majes.
"House Atreides will fund windtrap expansion across the northern rocky zones not on open desert but specifically the areas your Sietches already occupy.
More windtraps means more water. More water means your people stop losing children to dehydration in dry seasons." Paul said.
Inal's expression did not change but he had stopped looking at the table and finally stared at Paul.
"Beyond that, the uninhabited rock shelf areas adjacent to your current Sietches, we will develop them. Expanded living space. More room. Fewer people crammed into caves, surviving on the edge of what is bearable."
"You intend to move us," Majes said flatly.
"I intend to give you room to grow," Paul said. "Nobody moves unless they choose to."
Everybody was silent, and Paul leaned forward slightly.
'As a start...'
"I am not asking for soldiers. I am not asking for fighters or crysknife oaths or anything that costs you blood."
"What I want is your knowledge of Arrakis," he paused as he let that sit for a moment.
"Weather patterns. Worm behavior. Spice bloom locations. Safe desert routes. The things your people have spent generations learning that no offworlder has ever been trusted with. That knowledge makes spice harvesting safer. Safer harvesting means fewer worker deaths. Fewer deaths means production stays consistent. Consistent production means Arrakis prospers, and when Arrakis prospers, the Fremen prosper first."
Naib Rauth's eyes had shifted slightly. Stilgar had not moved, but something in his posture had changed.
Inal still said nothing.
Kynes was silent as she kept observing Paul.
The memory of Paul's vision saving the crew members in the harvestor occasionaly coming back to her mind over and over again.
Finally, Majes spoke.
"You ask for what we have bled to protect for generations," he said quietly.
Paul met his gaze.
"I know," Paul said. "That is why I am not demanding it. I am asking and in return offering a better life." He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath in.
"I am not asking you to serve House Atreides." Paul said.
"I am asking House Atreides to serve Arrakis."
The room was quiet.
Not the hostile quiet from before but something different.
Majes tapped his cane once against the floor but did not speak immediately.
He hesitated.
For the first time in a long time, he hesitated in speaking.
His eyes moved slowly across the other Naibs, Stilgar, Rauth, Inal, Arak'Numi, quietly observing them, reading something in each of them before his gaze returned to Paul, yet.
He did not come to a conclusion, he would have told Paul off, but he hesitated because not only had Paul proven his worth through battle, but his words also brought forth peace and cooperation.
But the final nail in the coffin of his hesitation was the little voice in the back of his head muttering 'Lisan al-gaib' though he did try to ignore it.
"We will consider what you have said, Duke Paul." Majes finally spoke.
Paul nodded once and stood.
He did not bow, and he did not press further.
He turned and walked towards the exit, Duncan quickly following beside him, Thufir just a few steps behind as they walked out.