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The reunion between them had been so emotional. After two long years in the desert, Paul hadn’t cried again. Yet, when he saw Gurney, he couldn’t help it; the tears flowed of their own accord.
When Paul recognized Gurney’s footsteps, his heart began to race, pounding against his chest. He hadn’t expected to see Gurney again, at least not at this time. That was the thing about prescience, it never worked in the way you wanted it. So, when he threw the man to the ground and jumped on him to confirm it was him, he was overwhelmed with joy to see his old mentor.
At first, Gurney seemed wary, unable to comprehend what was happening. Paul noticed his muscles tensing in response. But as soon as Paul uncovered his face, Gurney’s expression transformed, almost breaking.
“You young pup!” Gurney exclaimed, “You young pup!” he repeated, closing the distance between them to throw his arms around Paul, gripping him as if he were a lifeline.
Still a little surprised, Paul smiled, returning the embrace. Oh, how he had forgotten the warmth and strength of Gurney’s firm back beneath his arms.
“Oh, God,” Gurney said, pulling back slightly to study Paul’s face. “My young pup,” he murmured, tears welling up in his eyes. “Is it really you? I thought you were dead. Are you alright?” Gurney’s gaze roamed over Paul’s body, searching for signs of injury, the protective instinct kicking in, even though Paul had been the one who nearly attacked and killed him and his men.
Gurney’s hands found their way to Paul’s face, cradling his cheeks gently. “Look at you! I can’t believe it,” he said, breaking once more. Overwhelmed with emotion, he pulled Paul into another tight hug.
At that moment, Paul realized he was crying too. He didn’t feel sadness; he felt a profound happiness blooming inside him, too immense to contain at seeing the man he loved again. Words eluded him, so he simply held Gurney as tightly as he could.
“I can’t believe you’re alive!” Gurney laughed, arching his back to lift Paul’s feet off the ground. The sheer joy in his voice was infectious, and for a moment, Paul felt as though nothing else mattered.
Paul closed his eyes and surrendered to the moment, allowing himself to be held securely in Gurney’s hold. But suddenly, a throat clearing nearby jolted him back to reality. When he opened his eyes, he found Chani staring at him with confusion.
“Usul,” she said, frowning as she took in the scene before her.
Feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up his face, Paul gently touched Gurney’s shoulder, signaling him to set him back down on the ground. As Gurney complied, Paul quickly wiped the tears from his cheeks, trying to regain some composure. He took a step back, creating a bit of distance between himself and Gurney.
Gurney, on the other hand, turned to Chani, his brow furrowed in confusion, still attempting to make sense of it all.
“Whose side is he on?” Chani asked in Chakobsa, studying Gurney with narrowed eyes. Paul could see her holding back a flood of questions, trusting his judgment about the smugglers. He felt a wave of gratitude for her restraint.
“He’s with us. They all are,” Paul replied, “Chani, this is Gurney,” he explained, gesturing in Gurney’s direction. “You remember I told you about him?”
“Oh,” Chani exclaimed, her expression changing as realization dawned. “You’re Usul’s teacher. I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re to be trusted.” There was an odd note in her tone as if she wanted to say something more but chose not to.
Gurney nodded in acknowledgment, though his gaze remained fixed on Paul. Paul felt a stirring of curiosity about what was going on in his old man’s mind.
“Chani, let’s move out of the fields; I need to talk to Gurney,” Paul ordered and Chani immediately followed his request, stepping back to give them some space.
As she distanced herself and began giving orders to the Fremen, Gurney turned to Paul, a teasing glint in his eyes. “So, you’re the one to blame for the Fremen being so skilled in battle. I should have guessed,” he said, giving a slight shake of his head, “They do things I could have planned myself.”
Paul smiled at the compliment, but his expression quickly turned serious as he slowly reached for Gurney’s hand, their fingers brushing lightly. “There’s so much I want to tell you,” he said.
Gurney's gaze softened as he intertwined his fingers with Paul’s, warmth spreading through Paul’s chest. “I want to hear everything,” Gurney finally said, “Tell me what you’ve been up to, Paul.”
Paul felt lighter than he had in years. “Where do I even start?”
He began recounting everything, unraveling the events of the past two years. He told Gurney about the night of the Harkonnen attack, how he and his mother had barely escaped alive. He described the fight with Jamis, the way the Fremen’s prophecy had altered his fate, how his mother had become a Reverend Mother, and his plan to ascend to the Emperor's throne. It was like a dam had burst. Once he started, Paul couldn’t stop. The words poured out of him, every secret, every struggle he had held onto. And through it all, Gurney listened, never interrupting, his hand holding Paul’s, grounding him.
Gurney's eyes lit up with delight as Paul recounted his new friendships, especially his bond with Chani, whom he described as his best friend. “I can’t wait to get to know her better,” Gurney said cheerfully. As Paul spoke about Stilgar, he noticed a flicker of recognition in Gurney's expression. “Is he still as strange as I remember?” Gurney asked, a sign of jealousy there when Paul mentioned that Stilgar had become his new teacher.
Another revelation that took Gurney by surprise was the mention of his new sister, Alia. Paul’s enthusiasm was notable as he expressed his eagerness for Gurney to meet her.
Then it was Gurney’s turn to share his story. Unlike Paul’s whirlwind of experiences, Gurney’s narrative was more subdued. He spoke of the survivors he had managed to save from the battle, detailing how he had arranged for the smugglers to transport them back home while he chose to remain in Arrakis. “I needed to stay,” he explained, “I wanted revenge… Harkonnen blood.”
As Gurney spoke, Paul felt sadness over him. It was clear that Gurney had endured two brutal years, and the signs of grief and heartbreak were etched across his features. Paul wished to ease his pain, hoping to somehow share the burden of his suffering.
“I can’t believe you’re Muad’dib,” Gurney chuckled. “I’ve heard countless stories about Muad’dib. None of them pretty, I might add.”
Paul smiled, “And who are you to talk?” he teased, “Gurney Halleck, the smuggler.” Their laughter echoed in the air. “I still can’t believe you’ve grown your hair long,” Paul continued, a grin spreading across his face. “I’ve never seen you like this. It actually suits you.”
Gurney’s cheeks flushed slightly, embarrassment coloring his features. “It’s a mess, I know,” he admitted, running a hand through his unkempt locks. “I haven’t exactly been paying much attention to it.”
Paul sensed there was more to Gurney’s words, an underlying sadness at the neglect of self-care during their time apart. Yet, despite the disarray, Paul couldn’t help but think that Gurney looked undeniably attractive. “Well, I like it,” Paul declared, recklessness could be damned.
“I see you’re still a little imp,” Gurney laughed, his eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe you have blue eyes now.” Paul was taken aback by the remark, momentarily forgetting that his eye color had changed after the spice exposure. “You look beautiful,” Gurney continued, “though your eyes were gorgeous before too.”
Now it was Paul’s turn to feel his cheeks heat, a blush creeping across his face. “I want to take you back home,” he said, changing the subject. Gurney’s expression turned puzzled, prompting Paul to clarify. “To sietch Tabr, I mean. There are many people you should meet there.”
A smile spread across Gurney’s face as he replied, “I will follow you anywhere, love.”
♥♥♥
After arriving at their destination, the Fremen began celebrating their reunion. Paul took his time introducing Gurney to everyone. He was over the moon to finally present the man who had been the foundation of their fighting skills, the one he'd talked about endlessly to the Fremen. Everyone was excited to meet him, even Stilgar.
“I was wondering when we would meet you, soldier,” Stilgar said with a nod of approval.
Paul felt relieved, happy to see Stilgar being so welcoming. He had feared there might be tension between the two, but there was none. However, when Stilgar finished speaking, something shifted in Gurney’s expression. Discomfort passed over his face, subtle but undeniable.
Before Paul could ask what was wrong, Gurney extended his hand to Stilgar in a brotherly gesture, although it didn’t feel genuine. Paul could see through it, the forced pleasantry in Gurney’s eyes. A knot formed in his stomach with a sense of unease settling over him as he silently wondered what was going through Gurney’s mind.
As the celebration continued, Paul allowed Gurney and Stilgar to speak privately, their conversation seeming serious. Paul didn’t want to leave Gurney’s side, but Chani had been pulling at his attention all night, and he indulged her for a while. Once he finally managed to free himself, he looked around and realized Gurney was nowhere in sight.
“He said he was tired,” Stilgar explained, gesturing toward the dunes. “Went in that direction.”
“Thank you, Stilgar,” Paul replied, nodding back at him before setting off to find Gurney.
Following Stilgar’s guidance, Paul easily spotted Gurney sitting atop a distant dune, silhouetted against the night sky. When Paul reached him, he crouched down beside his lover, a gentle smile forming on his lips. But when Gurney’s eyes met his, the warmth of the moment faltered. There was a flicker of resignation in Gurney’s gaze, or perhaps hurt, that dimmed the moment.
“Are you alright?” Paul asked softly, his smile fading into concern.
Gurney exhaled heavily, his eyes dropping to the sand. “You know,” he began, “I’m still… shocked to see you. I can’t believe you’re alive.” He paused, searching for the right words, and Paul waited, giving him the space to continue. “After two years, I… I never imagined this could ever happen.” Paul remained silent, already sensing where the conversation was headed.
“But... after what Stilgar said…” Gurney tried to keep going, but he was fighting against himself. “The thing is... damn it,” he cursed, clutching his head in frustration.
“What is it, Gurney?” Paul asked though he had a sinking feeling he already knew the answer.
“You don’t seem as surprised to see me alive as I am to see you,” Gurney finally said. His eyes locked onto Paul’s, searching his face for an explanation, and the intensity of it made Paul feel a weight on his chest. He swallowed, his gaze moving away as if the desert itself might offer an escape from the inevitable confrontation.
“It’s because I wasn’t,” Paul admitted quietly, the words almost catching in his throat. His eyes flickered back to Gurney’s for a moment before looking away again, unable to bear the hurt in the older man’s face. “I knew you were alive, Gurney,” he confessed.
A heavy silence fell between them. Gurney’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening as he struggled to control his emotions. Finally, he spoke, “Since when?”
“A few days after the attack at Arrakeen,” Paul admitted, knowing there was no point in trying to hide the truth.
“What?” Gurney’s tone rose, laced with anger. “I don’t understand. How could you possibly know?”
“I had a vision. I saw you, Gurney,” Paul explained, “If I saw you, it meant you were alive. When I became part of the Fremen, I had them check it out.”
Gurney shot to his feet, fury erupting like a storm. “What the fuck, Paul?”
Paul flinched, he’d expected this reaction, he knew it was coming, but it still hurt more than he’d prepared for. “I didn’t tell you because…” he started, trying to explain, but Gurney cut him off sharply.
“You didn’t tell me?” Gurney’s voice cracked, “You knew I was out there, alive, while I thought…” He paused, his breath catching. “I thought you were dead, Paul. For two years, I believed you were gone.” He started pacing, his movements restless, agitated. “I mourned you for two damn years.”
Paul’s chest tightened, guilt twisting deep inside him like a blade. He tried to find the words, but the regret swallowed them whole. Gurney wasn’t done yet.
“Do you have any idea how bad it was?” Gurney asked, on the verge of breaking. “I spent so many nights in misery, reliving the attack over and over again, thinking about all the things I could’ve done differently. Thinking about us… about our memories together, and…”
Paul stood slowly, his instinct to reach out, to close the distance between them, but the moment he stepped forward, Gurney took a step back, a clear barrier of space.
“The only thing that kept me alive was the thought of revenge,” Gurney continued, his eyes hardening. “Revenge for my family and you. It was the only damn thing, Paul.”
That reference to the fall of House Atreides hit Paul like a blow, a lump forming in his throat. He said, almost pleading. “I couldn’t let you know, Gurney. You would’ve come for me, and people would’ve started wondering… asking questions. I couldn’t risk it.” Even as he said the words, they felt hollow, and foolish now that they were out in the open. “You would’ve tried to protect me, and that…”
“And that would’ve been so terrible?” Gurney interrupted, barely holding back his frustration. “That’s all I’ve ever done, Paul. Protected you, fought for you, loved you.”
Paul’s heart clenched painfully at the word loved. It was a reminder of everything they had been. At that moment, Paul felt the years between them, the bond, the loyalty, the trust, all fractured.
“I still love you, Gurney,” Paul mumbled, the words slipping out, as if saying them could somehow fix the damage.
Gurney let out a bitter scoff, a broken, harsh sound. “Then where the hell were you, Paul? Hiding in the desert, playing messiah?”
The blunt accusation hurt Paul. He wanted to protest, to tell Gurney that he never asked for this, becoming Muad’dib, leading the Fremen, was a burden forced on him, not a role he had chosen; but Gurney didn’t give him the chance.
“We were supposed to fight together, Paul,” Gurney continued, raising his tone. “We were lovers, for fuck’s sake. And you… you left me to rot in grief!”
“I’m sorry, Gurney,” Paul whispered, as tears welled in his eyes. The emotion he had held back for so long finally spilled over. “I was wrong. I thought I was protecting you, but now… I see that I hurt you more than I ever could’ve imagined.”
Gurney’s chest heaved, his breaths coming fast and uneven. “You broke my fucking heart!” he screamed, “Don’t you dare fucking cry now. You don’t get to just apologize after what you did.”
Paul shook his head, helpless against the tears that streamed down his face, his vision blurred. “I’m sorry,” he repeated desperately as if the words alone could undo the damage. “I love you. I always have. Please, Gurney, believe me.”
“Stop it!” Gurney snapped, pointing an accusing finger at him, his face contorted with pain. “Don’t you fucking dare!” His words were sharp. And with that, Gurney turned on his heel, walking away, leaving Paul standing there, tears falling and his heart breaking.
“Please, don’t go. Gurney…” Paul begged.
He hurried after Gurney as he watched the older man storm toward the sietch, his movements quick and determined. Panic gripped Paul as he realized Gurney was already gathering his things, preparing to leave. His heart pounded in his chest.
“Don’t go,” Paul pleaded with urgency. “We’re close to worm territory, Gurney, and you don’t know how to walk properly.”
But Gurney didn’t even spare him a glance. His expression was cold and distant, his mind already set. Paul’s breath hitched, watching Gurney pack without hesitation, the space between them growing.
“Please,” Paul choked out, “I can’t lose you too.”
Gurney froze mid-motion, turning around to face him with a look so enraged, so filled with fury that Paul almost stepped back. He had never seen Gurney look at him like that before.
“Shut the fuck up!” Gurney barked, “I don’t want to hear you any longer.”
With that, Gurney turned away, his figure retreating into the dim light of the camp, growing smaller. Paul’s knees buckled beneath him, and he stumbled forward, his chest heaving as he watched Gurney walk away. The air around him felt heavy, each breath was a struggle.
“Gurney…” he murmured. He sank to his knees, the cool sand pressing against him, grounding him even as his heart soared into the void. He hugged his arms around himself, trying to hold it all together. With each sob that escaped, he grappled with the bitter realization that he had pushed away the one person who meant everything to him.
He buried his face in his hands, surrendering to the flood of emotion as the night enveloped him, the desert a vast witness to his pain.
♥♥♥
The sun began to rise, casting golden rays over the endless dunes; the sand grew warmer and drier beneath Paul. He remained rooted in his spot, having spent the entire night staring in the direction Gurney had taken. The thought of moving felt overwhelming; he didn’t want to face anyone or anything. Worry gnawed at him like a relentless tide.
When Gurney left, he considered following him, or perhaps sending someone to check on him, anything so that Gurney wouldn’t have to deal with Paul. But Paul knew that such actions would only worsen things between them… if that was even a possibility. In the end, he chose to let Gurney go, resigning himself to misery for the mistakes he made.
Paul had never imagined things would end so badly, but after their conversation, he felt foolish for believing it could have gone differently. He had betrayed Gurney in ways that were difficult to comprehend. Since their separation, Paul had missed Gurney every single day. Paul would’ve been devastated to think that his old man was dead. How could Paul have done that to him?
It was all a mess. The worst part was that he had cried and confessed his love to Gurney, an instinctive reaction in the heat of the moment. But now, reflecting on it, he was terrified Gurney might see it as some form of emotional manipulation. Paul desperately hoped that wasn’t the case…
Thankfully, it was still dawn, the Fremen were yet to stir. He had a few minutes to wallow in his despair and let the tears flow freely. Thoughts raced through his mind, “What if I never see him again? What if he’s in danger out there because of me?” They were unbearable.
Paul closed his eyes and buried his head between his knees, wishing he could simply disappear into the sand and remain there for the rest of the day. It was all he wanted. After a while, however, he heard them, the unmistakable sound of his footsteps. Gurney was coming back.
Though still far off, the sound quickened Paul’s heart. He lifted his head, peering into the distance, squinting against the light. There, emerging from the dunes was a silhouette he recognized all too well. Hope and dread battled within him. What would he say? What should he do?
He remained silent and still, even when he realized that Gurney had noticed him. As the distance between them ended, Gurney sat down in front of Paul. All Paul wanted to do was burst into tears, but he gathered all his strength to hold his emotions. This was Gurney’s moment to say whatever he needed.
“I shouldn’t have left like that yesterday,” Gurney began, avoiding Paul’s eyes. “I took some time to cool down and think things through. I’ve decided that I still want to fight for you.” Paul was shocked by his words. “It would be the only way to confront Ravan. Also,” Gurney hesitated, “I owe it to your father, our men, and Duncan.”
The effort to suppress his tears became increasingly difficult, a lump forming in Paul’s throat, threatening to break free. When Gurney fell silent, Paul wrestled with an internal debate about how to respond. It was clear that Gurney was here for his own reasons, as he had every right to be. In fact, Paul was surprised he had returned at all.
Whatever Paul might say felt inadequate, almost unfair, given his mistakes. Nothing could repair the harm he had caused, so he resolved to accept Gurney’s desires, even if it meant enduring his own pain.
“Okay,” Paul replied in the faintest voice. If he said anything more, he feared he would start to sob.
“Okay?” Gurney echoed, frowning as he searched Paul’s eyes. Unable to bear the weight of Gurney’s gaze, Paul turned his focus to the sand beneath them. Gurney let out an exasperated breath. “You know what frustrates me the most?” he asked. “Our meeting yesterday was casual because, even though you knew I was alive, I’m sure you were shocked to see me there like that.”
Gathering his courage, Paul finally looked into Gurney’s eyes. “So, if we hadn’t crossed paths yesterday, I might never have learned the truth about you. Or worse, I could have discovered that you had become Emperor or that you died trying.” Gurney’s hands clenched into fists, “And that makes my blood boil.”
Paul stood frozen and mute because Gurney was right, and that was the most painful part.
“What? You have nothing to say now? No more tears?” Gurney snapped bitterly.
Paul's chest tightened at Gurney’s words. All he could manage was a shake of his head while pressing his lips together with tremendous force.
“So that’s it?” Gurney asked, “You destroyed me, and now you have nothing left to say? No more excuses?”
“No,” Paul whispered, taking a moment to gather himself. “You’re right. Everything you said is true.”
“Well, fuck that!” Gurney screamed, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t want to be right! All I want to do is pick you up and hug you, kiss you, love you, and move past all this shit. But I can’t do that because… if I let myself love you, I know deep down I still won’t be able to forgive you.”
He sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands as he cried harder. “I can’t forgive you, Paul.”
In that instant, Paul’s heart broke into a million pieces. Tears streamed down his face as he moved from his spot to embrace Gurney, who didn’t resist at all. Instead, Gurney wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist, crying his heart out against Paul’s chest.
“How could you do that to me?” he asked, gripping Paul tighter. “I thought you loved me, Paul.”
“I do, Gurney. I love you more than anything,” Paul replied, between sobs. “I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry.”
As their cries began to subside, Paul held Gurney tightly; his body trembled against him. “I never wanted to hurt you,” Paul whispered, “I thought I was doing the right thing. I’m so sorry.”
Gurney pulled back slightly and cleaned his face. “I know you, Paul. I thought about it and I know that you would never hurt me deliberately, but still…” he replied, “Every moment I spent thinking you were gone… it nearly killed me.” The silence stretched between them. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Paul,” Gurney said sincerely, “Not now. Maybe not ever.”
“I understand,” Paul murmured, tears threatening to spill anew. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
Gurney turned away, his silhouette outlined against the rising sun. “I need time,” he said softly, his back to Paul.
Paul nodded, feeling the ache of loss. “I’ll wait,” he replied, though uncertainty hung heavily in the air.
As Gurney walked away, to the sietch this time, the desert felt vast and empty. Each step Gurney took resonated in Paul’s heart. He knew their journey was far from over, but the road ahead seemed uncertain. As Paul well knew, the future was constantly changing.
In that moment, surrounded by the endless dunes, Paul understood that sometimes love wasn't enough to heal the scars. And as the day unfolded before him, he could only hope that time would offer them both the chance to find their way back to each other.