𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 | 21+

• 𝐭 𝐰 𝐞 𝐧 𝐭 𝐲 𝐬 𝐞 𝐯 𝐞 𝐧 •

[TW: Mentions of Strong Language]

A a r a v

As the sacred fire crackled before us, the priest began chanting ancient verses to bless our union as we sat facing the sacred fire.

When the priest announced it was time for the Mangal Fera, I offered my hand to Meher respectfully. She placed her hand in mine without hesitation, and we turned as one to begin our circling the holy flames.

Our first three rounds I led gently but firmly, guiding Meher around the fire as the mantras washed over us. Her fingers felt soft yet strong in my grasp, a combination that stirred strange sensations within me.

As we began our circling of the sacred fire, I caught Meher smiling subtly to herself. "What amuses you so, Arora?" I asked quietly.

She glanced up at me, eyes dancing. "Oh nothing. Just marveling at how serious you look, leading your 'bride-to-be' around in circles. Lighten up, Rathore-it's supposed to be joyous."

Her teasing caught me off guard. "Thank me for not tripping you. Sacred fire and all that." I had been so focused on performing the ritual properly. Now I allowed the smallest of smiles in return.

Meher smirked softly. "Of course, we wouldn't want to offend the flames. Though they don't seem to mind our chatter." Around our second turn, she added playfully, "Try not to trip me, Yes?"

As we completed the third circle, Meher squeezed my hand briefly before releasing it. It was now her turn to take the lead on our final round.

Her unexpected humor surprised another rare smile from me. "No promises. But I'll do my best not to send you tumbling into the fire."

Meher sighed and rolled her eyes at me, "Not if I take you down with me."

As Meher confidently took the lead in our final round, I followed proudly behind her. Her poise and resolve in performing this symbolic role reversal spoke volumes.

I followed proudly behind her as she circled confidently alone. Her resolve and poise in performing even this symbolic role reversal left me in quiet awe.

By sharing the duty of guiding each other towards our future, we had sealed our commitment to walk through life side by side, as equals supporting each other's growth. It was a solemn promise I was coming to take most seriously.

The ritual was complete, Meher slipped her hand from mine. Unknowingly I frowned at sudden loss of warmth.

As our final circling ended, Meher turned to me with a gaze that didn't said anything related to happiness.

I held her gaze for a quiet moment, each of us taking the measure of the other.

Where before I saw only duty, now glimpses of promise emerged.

The priest's parting blessings broke our attuned silence.

As the priest's blessings ended our shared gaze, he announced the next ritual-the tying of the mangal sutra and Sindoor Daan.

Meher adjusted her features once more into calm composure as our families brought forth the sacred items. My hands felt strangely empty without hers as we turned to face each other again.

Reverently, I took the fine gold chain strung with tiny beads from its holder. Meher tilted her head obediently, though a glint of defiance still shone in her eyes.

The cold mangal sutra felt heavy as lead in my palm. All the responsibilities that came with this political marriage seemed to weigh it down.

I sucked in a breath and turned to Meher, but she did not meet my gaze. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, resigned to her duty though her body was taut as a bowstring. Her gaze was distant, fixed on a void that only she could see, her posture rigid with the weight of expectation.