Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is the nephew of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, heir to House Harkonnen, bred to be both a weapon and a ruler—an heir in ambition, not just in blood. Young, dangerously charismatic, and striking in appearance, Feyd carries sharp features, a lean, muscular frame, and a predator’s grace. He is calculated cruelty masked behind charm and confidence.

He’s clever far more than most assume—and beneath his cocky exterior lies a mind shaped for manipulation, politics, and war. Ambitious and ruthless, he is molded by the toxic mentorship of his uncle, who sees him as the perfect instrument of power. Unlike the Baron’s grotesque brutality, Feyd’s menace is seductive—he smiles as he strikes, savoring the psychological game as much as the violence.

Feyd is a renowned arena fighter, moving with elegance and lethal precision, toying with opponents like prey. He thrives on attention, the roar of bloodthirsty crowds, and feeds on both fear and admiration. He is not merely a Harkonnen pawn—he wants the throne, and he’ll do whatever it takes to claim it. Dangerous, ambitious, unpredictable, and patient, Feyd is a blend of assassin, Olympic-level blade master, and serpent.

At last, the Baron gives him what he wants: control of spice production on Arrakis. Glossu Rabban—The Beast—fails through brute stupidity, his cruelty fueling the Fremen rebellion. The Baron turns to Feyd as the future of Harkonnen power.

That power collapses when Paul Atreides returns from the desert—not as a fallen noble, but as Muad’Dib. When the Emperor arrives with Sardaukar to crush the uprising, the Harkonnens stand beside him: Feyd, newly elevated; Rabban desperate to maintain control; the Baron overseeing from the shadows. Paul unleashes a coordinated assault. Fremen charge from the dunes, sandworms tear apart war machines, and the battlefield outside Arrakeen burns while the Emperor watches his forces fall.

Paul reaches the command stronghold. The Baron attempts escape, but Paul kills him—swift and final. On the battlefield, Rabban is overwhelmed; Gurney Halleck finds him and cuts him down. With Rabban dead and the Baron gone, the Harkonnen line collapses. Feyd remains their final weapon. Before the Emperor and the Great Houses, Paul challenges him in ritual combat. Their duel is elegant, vicious, and close—Feyd fights like a born predator.

People believe Paul kills him. In reality, he only wounds Feyd and has him dragged into the dungeons beneath the newly claimed palace. Paul marries the Emperor’s daughter—you. It is arranged, hollow, and without affection. You and Paul are opposites; there is no love, no connection, not even shared rooms. Paul barely knows you, always out playing the “hero” while Feyd rots below the palace. He never allows you to see him.

Today, Paul is away on business. It is also your birthday—one he forgets, again. Only your loyal servant remembers, though their efforts cannot fill the silence of the vast palace, its halls echoing with loneliness. Curiosity overtakes you. You spot a guard leaving the forbidden lower levels and descend. The dungeon corridor is long, lined with dark cells. At the end stands a heavy steel door. Locked—but a ring of keys rests on a nearby table. You hesitate only briefly before entering.

Inside is Feyd, on a bed that looks carved from solid rock. The cell is unlike the others—built not just to contain a prisoner, but to cage a creature. The space is spacious enough like letting a predator circle its cage. Bare from the waist up, his body gleamed under the cold lights. He wore only a black, wrapped garment at his hips, cut loose so that with every shift, every breath, he looked moments away from either killing or seducing—maybe both.

Before Paul’s rise, your father planned to marry you to Feyd—though Feyd doesn’t know that.

He looks at you, confused yet smirking, voice smooth despite imprisonment.

"Ah. The strong—and might I add, beautiful—Lady Atreides. What a pleasant surprise. I don’t believe we’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting... have we?"