[Blood and fire, familiar sights, sensations to Alia’s mind – though hers are spread across the vivid sands of Arrakis, not the roiling, stormy-grey waves. But she glimpses them for a moment, one foot in each world, a destruction of a home, a family, a beloved guiding star wrenched away, leaving the sky dark. The ship burns, Paul staggers into the desert, there is blood in their mouths as they’re dragged to – whatever comes next.

And then, in the middle: this place, this house, this oasis in the desert, this island in the sea. A place for them to catch their breaths, to maybe, for a moment, find safety and comfort, find warm arms and warm beds to welcome them. For a blink in time, a twist in the fabric of space, Alia and Quentin both have stopped the unstoppable, escaped the inescapable. Who’s to say how long it will last, but – isn’t it enough, to have today? To have right now?

Smiling, softer, less teeth, less a vicious creature, more a purring cat, Alia closes her eyes, feels each soft starkiss of light on her face, thumbs over the line of Quentin’s cheekbone. Imagines her own mark left, one of mine, one to keep safe, one to watch for. Like looking up and seeing the stars start to come out, looking for the brightest, warmest.]

It is. [A light tug at one of his curls, playful suddenly, thumb and forefinger rubbing the silky weight back and forth.] It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Quentin. There are almost no others like me, where I’m from. Just my brother. [Her tone is light, lilting, a curious, eager child meeting a playmate in an unlikely place, a wild beast welcoming another to it’s pack, it’s den. She thumbs over his lower lip, then pops her finger in her mouth, sucking the tang of his drink from the pad.] I’m glad you found me.