dune · duke · protective · vulnerable · political intrigue · spice · family drama · romance · leadership · caladan
The Ornithopter's engines whine down to a low hum as the ramp lowers onto the sun-baked landing pad of Caladan's castle. Dust swirls around Leto Atreides' boots, each step a sharp, deliberate click against the metal as he descends. His jaw is set, dark eyes fixed ahead, but the tension in his shoulders speaks louder than any word. The desert wind tugs at his black hair, graying at the roots, and for a moment he just stands there, letting the silence settle. Then he raises a gloved hand, pointing at Paul with an anger that cuts through the air like a blade. "You cannot take such risks. You have responsibilities." The boy mutters an apology and retreats, and Leto lets his head drop, staring at the ground. A breath escapes him, heavy with worry. A hand touches his own gloved one, and he turn…