hh_mirror | closed RP: Paul and Terry, on planet Caladan

Current Mood: worried

Entry tags:

closed RP: Paul and Terry, on planet Caladan

One look at Terry's face was all it took. His friend explained to him what had happened, but the important parts Paul could already glean from voice, tone, expression, tension.

There was no way in hell he would ever take Terry to Arrakis. Getting his friend addicted to the spice melange was not Paul's idea of a good deed. There was, however, one excellent candidate for an offworld destination, someplace Paul knew was infinitely secure -- and considerably more hospitable in terms of climate, both meteorological and political: the Atreides homeworld, Caladan, where his mother Jessica currently resided in the castle where Paul had spent his childhood.

The place was inventively named Castle Caladan.

In fact, Paul himself had not been to Caladan since the Atreides family's change of fortunes had brought him to Arrakis at age 15. The moisture-laden sea air, the warm woods of the castle's decor, brought back to him a hundred small memories of comfort and home.

He only hoped it would prove as soothing for Terry as it was for him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Paul's family home was a fortress; Tall and broad with battlements two men deep. There was ocean everywhere and drizzle from the sky and a feeling of wet; Like Gotham in the last days of summer leading into fall. There were lots of places he might have crouched and hid, staring out over the landscape to brood and think. But he didn't.

He'd stayed in his room and slept for the first day they'd been there. Not really looking at anything, or caring about anything at all. On his second day he'd managed to eat something a few times, in between sleeping as if his body was trying to catch up to years od deprivation. Now on his third day he wondered if he would really have to be hospitable and a good guest. He didn't want to socialize, he didn't want to meet anyone. The next step up from sleeping was staring into nothing and not thinking and that's what he thought he wanted to do.

Anything that wouldn't encourage him to think. Because there were too many thoughts in his head, and they poked and jabbed with sharp little pieces that made him feel stupid for feeling hurt in the first place.

Paul had spent the first couple of days on Caladan catching up on Imperial doings with the Lady Jessica, his mother. Atreides retainers kept him posted on his guest's welfare, but other than that, he kept his distance. The idea of the trip was to give Terry a secure retreat from Hogwarts and everything it represented, not to do the grand nostalgic "childhood of Muad'Dib" tour -- besides, most of those sites were clogged with pilgrims anyway.

Terry crept out of his room, hair crumpled, lips red, looking somewhat haggard despite the recent plentiful hours of sleep. He was tense and on edge and even though he didn't want to think, he'd realized he'd rather not think with company; company he trusted and felt comfortable with; than with the merest hint of servants and their whispers.

Paul found Terry gazing out one of the large windows (impregnable thanks to shield barriers, but perfectly transparent) at the choppy ocean. Caladan seas ... how he had missed these, on Arrakis. With a pang he remembered Chani: Tell me of the waters of your homeworld, Usul.

"Want some company?" he said, lightly.

"Some company? No. Your company, I could handle." The ledge of the window was wide enough for him to tuck himself in; more human than gargoyle, but it still worked for quiet brooding and contemplation.

Terry shifted to make room.

Paul swung up easily into the small space Terry made for him on the ledge. "Some things are harder to handle than others," he commented, quiet tone making it clear that there was no innuendo in this. "Ocean clearing your head? I always missed the Caladan rains."

"Wilder than Gotham's. Though not according to Bruce. He said before the buildings got so high, Gotham used to have some serious storms. Natural storms."

His voice was quiet and he kept staring out over the waves. "Is being calmer a step up ?"

"Honestly? Anything's a step up at this point, so yes." Paul hadn't seen Terry so upset since he'd gotten the DNA test results and learned about his biological relationship to Bruce.

He gave the slightest glimmer of a smile. "Soon I'll be in an actual room staring into nothing. Or maybe staring up at the ceiling. You have really interesting ceilings here, Muad'dib."

"The fine ceilings of my childhood home," Paul intoned, "are a subject of much philosophical and psychological discussion. They may have shaped my majestic psyche into that of the overlord my subjects know and worship today."

Unable to stop chuckling, Terry leaned into his best friend a bit. "Meglomaniac." He was still smiling, however.

"Which room has the best view? Can we do a tour ?"

Paul laughed. "Whenever you want, if you don't mind a bunch of pilgrims gawking at us, and Stilgar bitching the whole time. We can disguise ourselves as old women for anonymity."

"There's a conspiracy to see me in a dress, isn't there. Though shouldn't we be surrounded by a swarm of Feyakin? Why dress up like old ladies when we can be anonymous death commandos and one of them can pretend to be you."

"No one could successfully pretend to be me. And yes, there is a conspiracy. Hadn't you noticed the closet in your room is full of muumuus?"

"I thought those were some sort of official robes. I didn't want to comment on your cultural wardrobe."

He leaned a little more. "What's so facinating about those particular ceilings, Maud'dib? Tell me why it's worth old woman clothes."

"Truth be told, it isn't really. I'm just trying to distract you with humorous banter."

"You're not supposed to tell me it's humorous banter. Didn't anyone explain the rules to you? You were doing so well."

He sighs a bit. "Bruce was right, falling in love doesn't feel worth it right now."

Paul looked at Terry sharply. "Bruce told you that? No wonder the guy's a mess. Don't listen to him."

"He's not a mess." Defending Bruce was more automatic now than it'd ever been in Gotham. "And he's right. I feel like seven kinds of Gotham sewage shit right now. It's taking up all my energy. I've left the school. I'm not doing what I usually do..."

Paul sighed. "This is why it's very convenient to start having prophetic dreams about the mother of your children around about the time you hit puberty, so you'll recognize her when you see her. I wish I could make things easier for you somehow. But resigning yourself to a life without love isn't a good solution, just another problem, and you don't need any more problems right now. What are you going to say to him? Have you communicated with him yet?"

"If I start having prophetic dreams about the mother of my children right now, Paul. You can have the honor of prying me off the ceiling."

He rested his head on Paul's shoulder. "And I let him know I was off-world and safe."

A pregnant pause. "I miss him."

Paul put a comforting arm around Terry. "I know you do. That's not really what I meant, though. Maybe you should communicate with him a bit more while you're offworld. I get the impression it's sort of difficult for the two of you to stick to just talking when you're around each other."

He flushed a little, just the barest touch of pink on the tips of his ears and the round of his cheeks. "We talk." He didn't deny that it wasn't all they did when they were together and leaned into the arm holding him.

"What would I say?" Despite the light lingering traces of pink, his voice was flat. "I'm sick and tired of being played against my almost brother ?"

"For a start, if you haven't already said that yet, and if he's stupid enough not to get it without being told."

"Remind me why you're my best friend again ? No really, besides being an alright kisser, what was it?"

"Because no one else will put up with you," Paul said fondly.

"You're a horrible best friend." He said, while curling up against Paul and actually relaxing.

"Horrible. Evil overlord Emperor."

"But I have great fashion sense, as the muumuu collection will attest."

"I...I don't think it'll matter if I tell him." Because there was only so much distraction Terry would give himself. He'd stay here forever otherwise. And he couldn't.

"He never seems to get what's wrong. I end up feeling like some stupid high school girl with expectations. The last thing I want to be." Said with a wry grin. "Is someone's pushy high school girlfriend. For one thing, skirts are drafty."

"I wouldn't know anything about 'high school'. Anything like Hogwarts?" But Paul's expression turned serious. "It's not pushy to stand up for yourself. It's not pushy to insist on an end to the myriad convoluted family issues that this mess creates."

"Hogwart's but younger and even more emotional." He kept his voice as flat as he could, but couldn't escape having it thinly coated with bitter.

"I am standing up for myself. I'm not there. Whatever is going on with him and Dick, he can work it out without thinking I'll turn the corner any second, or knock on his room door. He can figure out for himself why I don't want to be lumped in with the one who made it a contractual obligation to kiss him, and the one who wants to own him."

He looked away again, back at the waves, tense all over again.

Paul tightened his arm around his friend. "Maybe he needs to learn how to say no."

He sighed. "Maybe. I just did."

Paul nodded. "You did the right thing. Now he needs to do the right thing. I just hope the right thing for him is congruent with the right thing for you."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

closed RP: Paul and Terry, on planet Caladan

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject