Dune is a sci-fi series. It follows young nobleman Paul Atreides. He leads his family and army on a risky mission to planet Arrakis. This place is known for valuable resources. Paul deals with tricky politics and discovers mystical powers. He faces powerful enemies and becomes leader of planet’s native people. Based on bestselling novel, it features star-studded cast like Timothée Chalamet, Zendaya and Jasson Momoa.

Meet the characters from Dune

Paul Atreides

Paul is the hungry, haunted center of the story — thoughtful, restless, and scarily precise when he needs to be. He’s equal parts calculating strategist and awkward teenager shoved into prophecy, with a weight on him that makes him both magnetic and a little tragic. He thinks in images and futures (seriously, the prescience thing is wild) and can be coldly pragmatic one moment and fiercely protective the next. Also he’s weirdly fond of small rituals — polishing weapons, folding a scarf just so — which is somehow both calming and creepy.

Lady Jessica Atreides

Jessica is the quiet hurricane — Bene Gesserit all the way, which means she can be soothing, ruthless, and manipulate rooms with a look. She loves her son like a devouring moon but also hides the training and the secrets that make her impossible to fully know; loyalty and rebellion are constantly wrestling inside her. There’s this weird domestic thing too — she makes a mean tea (or is it a spice mix? I can’t remember) — which humanizes the scheming woman, and I love that. Also she can be terrifyingly precise in combat or conversation, like a scalpel with a smile.

Chani

Chani is desert-born, hard-eyed, and shockingly tender underneath the warrior shell — everything about her says survival first but heart later. She’s blunt, fiercely loyal to her people, and has this quiet humor that slips out when Paul least expects it (and when she wants to). Loves the dunes, knows every sand track, and apparently is into stargazing and little rituals like arranging stones — which is both romantic and slightly eerie. She can be stubborn to the point of beautiful recklessness, and also surprisingly shy at times, which makes her feel real.

Duke Leto Atreides

Leto is the old-school noble: honorable to a fault, burdened by duty, and unbelievably good at playing politics without being slimy (most of the time). He rules like a father who’d rather fight for his people’s dignity than win a cheap victory — classic tragic hero energy. He’s also secretly sentimental — collects maps and has this habit of walking palace corridors at odd hours humming something sad — which makes him lovable and doomed. And yes, he’s decisive but not infallible; his caution sometimes becomes a weight that drags him down.

Duncan Idaho

Duncan is the kind of loyal badass who’d die with a grin and a terrible joke in his mouth; charming, stubborn, and absolutely fearless in a fight. He’s warm and friendly off the battlefield — the “man you’d want watching your back” — but there’s this steel under the smile, like he knows the cost of everything. Also, he’s oddly fond of simple pleasures, like making a perfect cup of something bitter or humming old songs while sharpening a blade, which is comforting and a bit weird. He has the hero swagger but also these little glimpses of melancholy that suggest he’s been carrying ghosts.

Baron Vladimir Harkonnen

The Baron is cartoonishly vile in the best way — grotesque, gleefully cruel, and yet cunning to the bone; he runs chaos like an art form. He wallows in excess and manipulation, and somehow the nastiness is theatrical, as if every horrible decision is also an indulgent hobby. Also, weirdly cultured — likes poetry or exotic curiosities sometimes (creepy, I know), which makes him both repulsive and fascinating. He’s the kind of villain you can’t look away from, even when you’re morally outraged.

Thufir Hawat

Thufir is the chessmaster, all cold logic and long-range thinking, a Mentat you would be terrified to cross because he plans five moves before you sneeze. He’s intensely loyal to House Atreides in a way that’s almost religious, but he’s also paranoid and prone to brooding, which makes him deliciously tense in scenes. Little oddities: he carries a tiny notebook and chews pens when he’s thinking — maybe — and he hoards details like a squirrel, some of which he never uses. He can be a bit humorless but sometimes throws out a dry barb that lands like a dagger.

Gurney Halleck

Gurney is the salt-of-the-earth warrior-poet — battle-scarred, cranky, and secretly sentimental with a baliset always at hand for when the mood strikes. He grunts more than he speaks but when he does it’s either a cutting insult or a line of tender, terrible poetry that makes you laugh and wince. He’s loyal to a fault, hates injustice, and cooks an unbeatable stew (trust me on the stew thing) — also plays rough with children and adores dogs, possibly simultaneously. There’s this whole vibe of “terrible uncle who will ruin you with stories,” and honestly you love him for it.