This is basically a Conti fic and the story follows from the attack on Jalaal in the forest where Jodha had removed the bullets from his gun.
This fiction was originally posted on India Forums by Princess Flavia/ Chhalki Syaahi. Yes, I am still ali...
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"Shehenshaah... wo humne aapki nranaal me se baarood nikal di thi."
He stared at her in shock and anger.
And just then the great beast leapt at them. He pushed her back and took the animal in a head on fight.
She could see claws, sharp, poisonous claws digging into his face and chest leaving a trail of blood in its wake... and then her husband was falling back, all bloodied and injured onto the forest floor.
"Nahi." A strangled cry emanated from her throat and she fell down in a boneless heap besides the fallen figure, the proud emperor of the Mughal Dynasty.
She knew she was trembling, but found herself incapable of controlling her shaking. He was watching her transfixed, as if in a trance. For a second, she feared the worst... and then his lips moved... "Jodha Begum." And then his head lolled to one side.
*
She awoke in cold sweat. It took her a long time to control her breathing. She was panting as if she had run a marathon. Finally getting her bearings in control, she looked around herself. It was dark around her, the only light coming from two candles burning in far corner of the room. She quickly took a look at her charge. Fortunately, he was fast asleep. The gentle light of the candle illuminated his features bringing his features into focus. Beneath all the injuries, she could still see that creamy skin and the sharp features. She never had taken one single look at him. But now, sitting there beside him, she watched him to her heart's content.
She had to agree even if it was to her own self and not to the world... Her husband was a beautiful person. If only his interior was as beautiful as the exterior. She sighed and gave up on that useless thought. She knew what he was... Neither did he make any bones about it nor did she harbour any illusions about his nature. Still the truth was that she hated him but also she did
not want him harmed.
Picking up the bowl of ointment, she applied a light coat of it on the deepest of the wounds. She badly wanted this night to pass.
*
The first rays of the sun filtered through the circular openings of the window and lighted up the room. As it touched his face, Jalaal woke up to the soft warmth of the sun rays. His body felt rested, much more than what he had got in these few months. He slowly tried to lift his head and was relieved to find the decrease in pain.
He looked around his bed, as far as his vision could stretch and found himself alone. Neither his wife, nor any of the maid servants were there in the room. He thought nothing of it as he had not expected her to be here when he woke up in the morning. It would have been nice to have someone handy, but he was used to fending for himself. He preferred the solitude of the room than the incessant fussing of women and the Hakims.
