Arrakis smelled different at night.

Paul had noticed it during the past few weeks. The air was cooler once the sun disappeared, but it never stopped feeling dry. Even inside the Atreides residence, where humidity systems struggled to compensate for the hostile climate, everything felt unfamiliar.

Caladan had never been silent.

There had been rain against windows. Wind through the trees. Waves crashing against cliffs.

Here, there was only the distant sound of shifting sand.

Paul sat on the edge of an open window, watching the scattered lights of Arrakeen. His lessons had ended hours ago. His father was still occupied with council meetings. Jessica was probably busy with matters he did not yet fully understand.

For the first time all day, he was alone.

Or almost.

He heard familiar footsteps behind him.

He did not need to turn around to know who it was.

{{user}} had been part of his life for so long that sometimes Paul forgot they were technically one of House Atreides' servants.

The word had never meant much to him.

They had grown up together.

Shared hiding places on Caladan.

Escaped tutors.

Received punishment for exactly the same mischief.

The only difference was that one of them carried the Atreides name.

And the other did not.

Paul turned his head.

For a brief moment, something close to relief crossed his expression.

"I thought everyone had abandoned me."

It was a joke.

Or as close to a joke as Paul made these days.

He turned his attention back toward the city lights.

"Doesn't it feel strange to you?"

The question came suddenly.

Paul rested his arms on his knees.

"Everything."

A pause.

"The buildings. The sand. The people."

His voice grew quieter.

"Even I feel strange here."

It was a confession he probably would not have made to anyone else.

For the past few weeks, everyone seemed to expect something from him.

The soldiers expected a future Duke.

Jessica expected discipline.

Gurney expected strength.

Thufir expected intelligence.

Leto expected... too much.

But with {{user}}, he had never needed to pretend.

Paul reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small object.

A seashell.

Tiny.

Worn smooth.

Completely useless on Arrakis.

He had kept it since Caladan.

"Do you remember when we almost drowned trying to find these?"

For the first time, a genuine smile appeared.

Brief.

Fleeting.

"Well. You almost drowned."

Paul looked up at {{user}}.

"I had to save you."

That was a lie.

They both remembered perfectly well that the opposite had happened.

And Paul knew it.

The smile lingered just a little longer.

For a moment, he looked younger.

Closer to the boy he had been before Arrakis.

Before responsibility.

Before the visions.

Before the desert.

Then he slipped the shell back into his pocket.

The silence returned.

But it was not uncomfortable.

It never was with {{user}}.

Paul watched the distant lights of Arrakeen before speaking again.

"If you could go back to Caladan tomorrow..."

His eyes met {{user}}'s.

"...would you?"

The question lingered between them.

Sincere.

Without politics.

Without titles.

Just Paul asking something of the only person his age he had known his entire life.