《If》a gift
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Khilji stands in front of Mehrunisa, as bare and scary as he can be, holding the knife he gifted to her few years ago.
Mehrunisa steps closer to him, bringing the gas light between them to inspect Khilji. The little cut on his neck is still bleeding lightly, making new trails of red to his chest which is already covered by blood. She wonders if it's only his own.
"Have you touched her?" She says, her voice barely audible.
Khilji raises his hand to her eye level, as if he's going to slap her. He's hoping for a flinch, or a light of fear in her eyes. Mehrunisa doesn't even blink.
He changes his mind there and then, he lowers his hand and grabs Mehrunisa by her waist, crashing her body to his chest. His hands travel from the top of head to her small back, lower and lower until he feels her shivering.
"Touched her how?" He asks, his voice deep and full of lust. Mehrunisa pushes his chest to break free, which only tempts him to hold her tighter. His extends his rough touch there, making Mehrunisa jump.
She protests with another strong push to his chest, moving his hand away from her private parts, deeply disgusted. "Take your hands off!"
He plays with her like a cat plays with a mouse, letting her free just a little, only to grab her arms and torture her with his closeness again, untill she's out of breath and too tired to fight. He watches Mehrunisa as she regains the control of her breath, her eyes red and her figure slightly humped. She keeps looking him in the eyes, without any fear of being hurt or harassed.
It drives him crazy, how daring and careless she is, even though she's facing him, the man no emperor could fight against, even in a battlefield. Mehrunisa faces him in a room only illuminated by moonlight, unlike the warriors who wear steel armours, she's wearing nothing but a cotton nightdress.
"I gave you everything you wanted." He sounds like he is tired of her as he shouts every word. "And you... You betrayed me."
Mehrunisa averts her eyes. She's filled with things to say, however she chooses to stay quiet like she always did, to not pour oil on the flame. She thought he wouldn't force her to speak, until he did.
"Speak!" He yells to her face, shaking her body back and forth violently.
It's been a long time since Malika gave her an actual answer instead of what he wanted to hear, so she hesitates before telling a word, scared that he might take his anger out of Padmavati because of something she says.
Every second of her silence eats up Alauddin's non-existent patience. He grabs his wife's small chin as he corners her againist a wall, getting closer to her face. His eyes look like a lightening could come out them.
"You are carrying my child in you. How could you do it?" He growls so loud that Mehrunisa feels the vibrations on her heartbeat.
"I gifted the dagger to her. I didn't tell her to use it on you." She raises her voice finally, trying to escape the prison that is his body.
"That leads to the same exact point, if you haven't realised yet, my dear betrayer wife." He points to his neck, breathing furiously.
The word betrayer hits a deep spot that fires up her ire and her breathing adapts to his. "That's your fault, not mine." She spits.
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He stares at her, until he realizes that this is the same woman who had been deeply in love with him. Suddenly it seems like too much to take in at a time, these expressionless, blank eyes belongs to his wife.
He lets go of her chin and walks to nearby window in Malika's room. He saw no fear, no love and no sign of emotion at all, in her eyes. He used to read her insides through the brown of her eyes, she was an open book. Tonight, all he sees a dark, empty space behind her eyes, as if her light was stolen from her.
In his mind, he can't dare to ask the question who. He knows that it was no one but Alauddin Khilji who did this to her, the man who steals light to darken the world, himself.
"I forgave you once when you helped them escape." He says shamelessly, looking to the dark sky instead of Mehrunisa's eyes. It was him who ended up losing courage, not her.
"I had to forgive you everyday just to look at your face." She talks back confidently as she puts on a kaftan over her nightdress. She lights up some more candles in the room, she completely lost her sleep. What else can he take from me, she thinks. I have nothing left.
He sniffles back some tears, remembering Padmavati's swollen lips and dark trails of kajal on her face. He killed the love of Mehrunisa, the woman who prayed for him, waited for him, no matter how cruel he was. How could Padmavati leave his saintly husband behind and have the stomach to look at him with anything but disgust?
Mehrunisa walks next to him and when she sees his wet eyes, she can't help but exclaim the name of god out loud. Alauddin Khilji, the brutal Sultan of Delhi Empire, sheds tears for a woman.
"You really love her, don't you?" She asks, wiping her own tears of sadness.
He nods in an accepting manner, letting his tears fall without a word.
"I walked through fire every day since very first day of our marriage, but somehow you think she deserves more love than I do, because you pulled her out of it?" She asks, her voice has cracks and rebellion in it.
Khilji remains quiet.
"You wouldn't break her like you broke me. You can't even stand the thought of her being sad. She is something precious, isn't she? I was worth a feather of an ostrich, but you had to burn down a city and sacrifice thousands of lives just to see her." Mehrunisa lets down her guard and starts sobbing between her words. "I... I loved you when you had nothing but this crazed heart of yours. I loved you from the beginning, through every horrible thing you have done."
She hugs her stomach, meeting his eyes. "But that is not how your scale works. It is wrong and it is corrupted, just like you."
She sobs repeatedly without breathing at all, he starts fearing that she'll pass out due to the lack of air. She sits on the floor, taking a deep breath when she understands that she's starting to lose it. Khilji croaches down to help, but Mehrunisa stops him, raising her hand. "No. Stay away from me."
He does not insist, he just heads to the door instead, to call someone who could help her and make sure she's okay. He is not good at doing that, obviously.
She shouts his name when he's about to walk out, making him turn back to her.
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"Hearts are not like cities, Alauddin. You can't burn down everything inside and then make them yours."
***
In less then ten minutes, Padmavati makes the best possible summary of her experience with Khilji and the palace here to Ila. She felt even more disgusted with him in the end, but Ila seemed less worried than before.
"If he wanted to touch you, he would, Ranisa."
"What could he have in his heart other than lust and desire for sins?" Padmavati snaps, hardly containing her anger.
"Love." She says softly and Padmavati faces the girl with furrowed brows.
"Love? Are you telling me that this brutal slaughterer has love in his heart?"
Ila looks around the luxurious room Khilji trapped her in. "It seems like he does."
Padmavati steps away from the girl while eyeing her suspiciously.
"With my most sincere apologies, I have to say that if his intention was to have your body only, he could have it, Ranisa. I respect your talent but he's Alauddin Khilji. I doubt there is a man who can compete him, let alone a woman."
"What are you trying to say?"
"He wants your consent. It means that he also has hopes for you to love him someday."
"False hopes." Padmavati spits with raw anger. "It will never happen."
Ila smiles calmly. "That's the point. He has to think that it will happen. If he doesn't, then you will become what you are afraid of, another body to release his lust. A hopeless man won't care even if there is nothing left of you but your worldly shell."
She looks at Ila with wide eyes, truly shocked. Hearing all these things that has been crossing her mind since she came to the palace from someone else's mouth, creates a devastating effect.
Words echo in her head, making it difficult to think of anything but Khilji's rough touch that has left its marks on her body. Her soul is being tortured when she feels his hands clasping her wrists again, like a nightmare coming alive, darkness takes her by hand.
***
Ila literally drags the queen's body to Khilji's bed after she lost consciousness. It all happened very suddenly, one second she looked like she was about to storm out of the room, then she collapsed to the floor like life left her body.
She brings her hands to her belly, her eyes still closed. Ila thinks she's having a bad dream but then Rani cries out in pain.
"God... No... Don't leave me."
Ila tries to understand what's causing her pain, taking off all the clothing that covers her abdomen until she's only left with her blouse and petticoat. Then she sees the 3 months old baby bump and the little blood stain that is expanding slowly on the fabric.
"Ranisa!" Ila shouts, shaking her shoulders. Padmavati moans again, louder with anger, this time. "Alauddin... Take your hands off..."
Ila brings the back of her hand to Padmavati's forehead and immediately reacts to her high fever, splashing her face with water.
"Listen, Ranisa. Please keep quiet." She begs as she moves the hair away from Padmavati's face and splashes more water to her body.
She shakes with silent sobs and tears make new trails on her face. "Ratan... Where are you?"
Ila has to swallow a big lump in her throat before speaking again. "You won't lose this baby. I promise." She puts a pillow under her head and checks the bleeding. "It's okay. It will be okay."
The stain is not expanding anymore but it's red and bright, which worries Ila. She doesn't know if she can actually keep the promise she just gave, she only knows that she has to.
She keeps assuring Padmavati that it will all be okay while she moves things around to make her comfortable and as stable as possible. Her cries of pain dies down in a few minutes but her calls for Ratan goes on almost for an hour, leaving Ila no choice but to cover Rani's mouth when she's too loud. There is no difference between the risk of miscarriage and Khilji's finding out that Padmavati is pregnant, except the fact that Khilji has the most painful hands and ways to touch people.
***
"It's over Ranisa, take deep breathes and don't move." Ila sighs as she puts on a different set of clothes on Padmavati. Dark shades of blue turned into lighter ones and at the end of the night, the queen was finally herself. She looked distrait, tired and sad but was convinced to play the games of hope with Alauddin to keep herself and her baby safe.
She thanks Ila for her great help, reassurance and comfort. Overcoming the risk of a miscarriage is not something to do alone and to her luck, she is one skillful girl.
"It is my duty to serve you at all times and costs. I won't let you down, ever. I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me untill we get you back home."
Padmavati smiles, closing her eyes. "Yes, seems like it..."
Ila smiles too, carrying the last bowls of water she cleansed her queen with. The room became a mess but she managed to make it look like nothing happened.
"Go get some sleep, you've been running around for me the whole night."
She nods, making a small curtsey before leaving the room.
***
Khilji has calmed down, even though it took him the whole night. He didn't have any sleep or breakfast yet, the thoughts let him go just now.
He checks himself on Padmavati's mirror before leaving the room. He spent the night here, breathing her in. He never tried emphaty before tonight, being a senseless monster worked well, until he met Padmavati. After seeing her tears, her pride and honour that fill everywhere she puts her feet on, his passion of living the way he does, turned into something less black and more yellow. He felt warmer, even though he can't name the feeling.
He feels bad for what he did, how he made her feel. He would have make sure that he looks his best before meeting her but now his eyes don't even meet his reflection. It feels unimportant. Pointless, unnecessary, needless, ugly, disgusting, barbaric.
He feels terrible.
When he enters his room he finds no traces of Padmavati's anger from last night, the room is perfectly in place. He expected her to destroy this room, take her frustration out of things that are his but he sees her there, sleeping on his bed with her hair spreaded around, looking like an angel.
He makes no special effort to not to wake her up because he knows she'll open those beautiful eyes any moment now. She's a very light sleeper as every noble should be and he knows it.
Padmavati wakes up few seconds later and she covers herself instinctively before seeing who's in the room. It doesn't take too long, his presence makes itself known by every sense. His smell, the sound of his breathing, his shadow that hits the wall next to his bed, captivates her. She turns around, knowing she will face Khilji, the subject of her nightmares, again.
"Good morning, Padmavati." He says, his voice has no mock or arrogance in it and Padmavati is surprised to hear a simple greeting from him.
She nods, not looking him in the eye. "Good morning, Sultan."
Khilji looks at Padmavati twice, making sure that it was her talking. Did she call him Sultan? He searches for emotions on her face, finding none. Maybe she gave up the fight. It scares him deeply to think that he broke her beyond repair. What if she just becomes a shell? It's not the body he wants. He wants what's inside. The soul, the magic, the light that brings victory along with it.
She's wearing a cream coloured dress that reveals her delicate arms till her elbows. He realises that the marks of kajal are removed from her face but there are new ones on her wrists. Khilji doesn't even remember why he exerted this much power on her. The skin around her right wrist became a mixture of black, purple and green.
Something stings his heart when he sees her other wrist is still slightly red. Regret starts to burn his insides but he doesn't show.
"Give me your hands." He commands, sounding emotionless. It's hard for him not to caress her cheek and reveal his regret, but he won't do it.
She hesitates before giving up on her no touching rule. Ila's words ring in her mind. If he wanted to touch you, you wouldn't be able to stop him.
She raises her both arms in the air for him to examine. He is unaware that he looks extremely sad but Padmavati catches his expressions of emotion. It makes her think that she's hallucinating until Khilji finally speaks again.
"Does it hurt?"
Of course she won't admit that it aches horribly and it's hard for her to even bend her wrists. She looks away instead.
"This exceptional mixture of herbs is made for the king." Khilji tells as he opens a jar that he just brought out from his wardrobe. "It is supposed to take away the pain of the worst wounds."
He takes Padmavati's hands in his, again. He looks in her eyes and he is filled with the desire to say something about love to her.
He can't find the words.
He carries on as he takes a very little amount of ointment on his finger. "Such little amount is enough..." He says as he gently rubs it to her skin. "It will be the remedy to all kinds of pain."
They both know that Khilji isn't talking about the ointment. Padmavati thinks of the little hope of embracing her child in this world as Khilji thinks of the little possibility of her love. They both need the very little hope for the great relief.
Khilji goes to his wardrobe again and brings out a couple of jewellery this time. He needs something to cover these ugly marks of his barbaric nature.
Padmavati stays still as the magic of herbs works into her skin, taking away her pain. She closes her eyes with relief, inhaling deeply.
He comes back with two matching bracelets. They are simple, wide bands of pure gold that will softly wrap around her slim wrists and hide the bruises. Khilji puts them on Padmavati himself and moves few steps away to appreciate how simple pieces of gold looked so good on her. He likes the contrast between her bare dark skin and unadorned gold. He loves it. It makes him want to see more of it on her. With less clothing.
"Gold will help with the healing." He says, looking for something to distract himself from her in the room.
She hates the idea of wearing something Khilji gave to her. "Thank you." She forces herself to speak, remembering Ila's words.
There is a knock on the door before Khilji gets a chance to say something. He moves Padmavati out of sight, seating her back on bed and drawing all the curtains around her to make sure she can not be seen.
A male servant enters the room and hands Sultan a sealed letter. His eyes don't even go around Padmavati's side even though this is the only time in his life he is so curious to know something. This servant and everyone else in the palace, are dying to know what Khilji did to Padmavati.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" He asks, after seeing Khilji's broad smile caused by the letter.
Khilji folds Kafur's letter with a pleased expression in his face. "Yes. Tell maids to pack for Padmavati. We are leaving for Malwa in three days. Get all the preparation done."
When Padmavati shows no signs of objection to Khilji's command, the servant knows that he sucked her soul out of her body. The glorious queen of Chittorgarh, who was willing to burn alive instead of letting Khilji have a glance of her, was now sitting quietly in his bed.
The servant bows his head respectfully before heading out. "As you wish, Sultan."
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