[The way she’s held is – strange, new, a protectiveness that Alia isn’t accustomed to. Duncan had held her, back on Arrakis, but she had been frantic, grieving, wild with loss. She feels similar now, but the hand cradling her head, holding her safe, protected, shakes off some of the cobwebs the fireworks had summoned.

She breathes in again, takes in the scent of the stranger, the warmth of his body, the rumble of his voice. And her mind reaches out, consciousness seeking to brush against his, see what she might find. A memory, a sensation, an echo that he’ll allow to be plucked by her seeking hands.]

Because he is my brother. [Quieter, as she pulls back, looks upwards with her great, sad, solemn eyes.] Because even if I had the chance not to give him all I had, I would not have taken it.