the tent (Jalal’s POV)
She had a lot of audacity, that he could surmise, to decline his call into his court and in front of his ministers at that. Even Ruqaiya, with all her pride and self-respect, would think twice before pulling a stunt of that sort with him.
The moment Maham Anga had walked back into the court without his new bride, Jalal could already hear his ministers murmuring their shock and disbelief. Never in Mughal history had a queen been so bold enough to refuse their Shehenshah.
Their disapproval of his marriage to a Hindu princess was no secret to Jalal, this only served to further cement that fact.
The murmurs were enough to have him clench his fist in fury and with an unspoken promise to avenge this hit to his ego. He could not have his court thinking he’d let anyone get away with flouting his orders, even if she was his begum.
With a look of anger and determination, he gave a silent order to his courtiers to stay back as he ventured into her tent.
That was another blatant act of defiance as well - her asking for a separate khema to be built and for it to be far away from his.
As infuriated as he was at this, there was that small part of him - the warrior in him - that was filled with glee at this.
He had not expected her to be so pliant for him, after all, that was the thing that made his conquest over her even more worth it. A battle easily won was less satisfactory than the one that required more effort and sacrifice, the latter bringing with it the satisfaction of knowing the hard work had paid off.
With sure steps, he made his way over into her tent, pushing the opening apart and soon, he was met with a dimly lit view.
However, none of that could compare to the sight of her reclined on the bed. Most of her jewelry had been taken down except her maang tikka, mangalsutra and nose ring.
Each step he took towards her bed had him enthralled by the beauty on it. He had meant every word when he said that she was even more beautiful than words of mouth could describe.
Mashallah, not even the most beautiful sights of Agra can hold a candle to your beauty.
Maybe if he was not so distracted, he’d have realized she was now awake. Maybe he would have noticed her hand reaching for her dagger under her pillow.
However, fortunately for him, he was not as distracted to not catch the dagger in his hand like an agile mongoose dodging the attack of a king cobra.
Just as soon as his anger had left when he saw her, it returned in response to her attack. His mind could barely register the pain as his grip on the blade tightened.
Her doe eyes widened as soon as she realized whom she had attacked, and her hand left the hilt. Slowly turning his head, he gave the dagger a look of appraisal, noting the intricate design before tossing it aside, then, he turned to look at her.
Only she would have the audacity to pull up a dagger to attack him. If someone else had dared to do that to Jalaluddin Mohammad, they’d have been decapitated by now but the fact that it was her brought back the memory of her holding Raja Suryabhan’s sword to his neck.
Back then, he had donned the disguise of a Rajput soldier to break Abdul out of prison and for a moment, Jalal had believed his cover to be blown.
It was ironic to say, seeing the man who held his shamshir to the neck of his enemies being in that same position at the hands of a Rajput woman no less. No doubt, Abdul had not let him live that down as soon as they got back to his camp in Shalpur.
Oh, how much Abdul would get a kick out of knowing about this one too.
Jodha was already on his radar the moment his informants had brought her up but that act was enough for him to want to have her as his and whatever Shehenshah Jalaluddin Mohammad wanted, Shehenshah Jalaluddin Mohammad got it, regardless of how he had to get it.
The memory alone was enough to spark a grin as he drew closer to her. So close he could feel the warmth of her body, so close he could hear her breathe, just so close…
Ya Khuda, he had to control himself. He was here to admonish her, not bask in how close he was to her. He had to be firm with her, yet… no, he had to stay focused.
“I summoned you into my court to sing, yet you refused my request,” he said, searching her eyes, hoping to break through the cool mask she donned.
“Have you forgotten I am your husband? Your vows before the holy fire? Have you forgotten your duties as my wife?”
For a moment, his eyes fell on her mangalsutra before moving up to gaze at her. Her silence was enough to ignite his rage again. It was like she managed to always fan the flames she sparked in him, a primary example being when she had set up those two conditions for him.
That was a story for another day but for now, he had to remind her of her marital duties in case she had somehow forgotten them.
Little had he anticipated that she’d spin it around on him, reminding him of his duties to her as her husband.
“Yes, you are my husband and, yes, I remember the vows I made before the fire,” she replied so calmly he had to wonder where her fear was, especially with the fierceness in her eyes.
Does she have any idea who she is talking to?
He had heard of the Rajputs' bravery and experienced it multiple times already but to see it coming from her again…that was impressive.
“But no religion allows a man to treat his wife as a maid or force his will on her,” she continued. Now, he could no longer maintain his glare as he stared at her with a smirk, egging her to go on with her little speech.
“My wedding vows are not a permit for you to treat me like a courtesan whose purpose is to entertain the members of your court. For a man, his wife’s honour takes priority over his own wishes.”
Oh, that was what it was now? How he’d have loved to give her a round of applause from how impressed he was at the wittiness of her response.
“Well said,” he chuckled, sarcasm heavily lacing his words. “I came to you with a complaint yet you manage to make me the guilty one.”
It was at that point she swallowed. It was subtle but not that subtle for his trained ears. So, she was afraid of him after all.
He had to give it to her though, speaking the way she had to him despite her fear of him. Although he had to wonder if she was actually afraid of him or something else. Regardless, it was good she was afraid, she should be.
“You stare at me in fear and apprehension of what my next move would be…I like that.”
At that, her eyes fluttered shut and a sick part of him delighted in that.
“You should be scared,” he smirked, finally moving away from her. He had done exactly what he needed to do.
His feet met the floor before he looked down at his bloody palm. The bleeding had ceased and his eyes went straight to the discarded dagger at the other size of the tent.
He’d add that to the box that held her payal just for the memories. Maybe it was the masochist in him that was slowly building up because of her.
“You won’t need that dagger to protect you next time. I will shield you from every danger that threatens to harm you. But no one, no one, Jodha Begum, will be there to save you from me.”
And he meant every word.
From the moment she had drawn that sword at him, he had vowed to have her as his. This was just a taste of what was to come.
With that, he left her tent to meet Sharifuddin whose lowered head snapped up to gaze at him. The governor must have been waiting outside the tent for a while despite his orders for his courtiers to stay back.
“Shehenshah-.”
Jalal blocked him out, his eyes gazing down at his bloody palm again and he smiled as his mind replayed the scene of him blocking her attack with his hand.
He was already looking forward to enjoying his fierce Rajput wife.
ending notes: I do not know if it is just me but I loved this scene in episode 38 because it showed the chemistry between Rajat Tokas and Paridhi Sharma as well as the heavy tension that existed between their characters. also, I hate how Abdul was nowhere to be seen after episode 20 without any explanation, it was as if he never existed at all. that being said, I appreciate the likes and feedback I have gotten on this post, and I hope to make more one-shots based on this lovely serial.
comment:
p_commentcount