Akdha FF - Embers of Fate - Chp5 Pg 5 / 12 Feb 2025 - Page 4

Wonderful update dear 🙂

Just loved it 🤗

Well the travel back to Amer of Jodha & Jalal was really interesting ... It really seems like fate has binding them & the bantering & questions between the two were really good

She got injured but Jalal made sure of her safety & now he is going to escort her back & they both are well aware that they are not ordinary 😔

Waiting for more

Thanks for the Tag 🙂

Keep writing ✍️

I loveeee cliffhangers

Don't worry. Will update soon!

Originally posted by: Gold.Abrol

Wonderful update dear 🙂

Just loved it 🤗

Well the travel back to Amer of Jodha & Jalal was really interesting ... It really seems like fate has binding them & the bantering & questions between the two were really good

She got injured but Jalal made sure of her safety & now he is going to escort her back & they both are well aware that they are not ordinary 😔

Waiting for more

Thanks for the Tag 🙂

Keep writing ✍️

Thank you dear ❤️

Will update soon .. stay tuned 😉

The interactions between them feel so intense... Loved it!!!

Originally posted by: Rexana19

The interactions between them feel so intense... Loved it!!!

Thank you so much dear

Please do share your views on this if you find it worth reading

Chapter 4

The morning sun filtered through the thick canopy of trees as the man packed his sparse belongings into a bundle. Jodha, sitting on a nearby rock, watched him with curiosity. The events of the past day had left her shaken, but also stirred something within her she couldn’t quite name.

He seemed unusually quiet today, his movements deliberate, his focus unwavering as he worked. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low but firm.

“You’ve been strong through all this” he said, not looking up. “But I need to know...who are you?”

Jodha froze, her heart skipping a beat. She had been dreading this question. She couldn’t reveal her true identity...not to a stranger, not here. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her dupatta as she carefully chose her words.

“I’m...no one” she said softly and laughed, averting her eyes. “Just a woman who wanted to help her people.”

He stopped what he was doing, his piercing gaze locking onto her. “No one?” he repeated, a faint trace of disbelief in his voice. “Your mannerisms, the way you carry yourself...they speak something else. Who are you, really?”

Jodha swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. She had to protect her identity. “A healer” she lied, lifting her chin slightly. “That’s all. My family is gone. I’ve been traveling, helping where I can.”

The man studied her for a long moment, his sharp, piercing eyes probing hers as though searching for a truth she wasn’t ready to reveal. It was unnerving and yet oddly comforting...his gaze, intense as it was, carried no malice, no judgment. Only questions

Finally, he gave a slight nod, though his posture remained rigid. The silence between them was weighty, laced with unsaid things that neither had the courage nor the inclination to voice. He turned back to his task, wrapping the last of their provisions into a simple cloth bundle.

“I’ll take you as far as the border” he said, his voice steady but devoid of warmth. “You’ll be safe from there.”

Jodha’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected the finality in his words, the quiet certainty that this moment would mark the end of whatever fragile bond had formed between them. Her fingers instinctively tightened around the edge of her dupatta, the coarse fabric grounding her against the inexplicable ache growing in her chest.

She stood, brushing off the dirt from her lehenga. “The border” she echoed, her voice low. There was so much more she wanted to say, but the words lodged in her throat, refusing to surface.

They walked in silence, the forest thinning as the border of Amer loomed closer. The sunlight filtered through the sparse canopy, casting a golden glow on the path ahead. Birds chirped softly, their melodies incongruent with the heaviness in Jodha’s heart. Every step felt heavier than the last, as though the earth itself resisted this inevitable parting.

She stole glances at him as they walked. His stride was purposeful, his figure shrouded in the dark fabric of his cloak. The hood cast shadows over his face, but even in the half-light, his features were striking - sharp angles softened by an air of quiet authority. There was something about him, something magnetic that she couldn’t quite place.

When they finally reached the edge of Amer’s territory, the man stopped abruptly, his boots crunching against the dry earth. He turned to face her, and Jodha felt her breath hitch. There was an unreadable intensity in his expression, as though he too wrestled with the weight of this moment.

“This is as far as I can go” he said simply. His tone was even, almost detached, but his eyes betrayed something else - something he seemed determined to suppress.

Jodha hesitated, her lips parting slightly as if to protest. A hundred thoughts raced through her mind, none of them coherent. She barely knew him, yet the thought of his departure filled her with an unexpected emptiness.

Why did it feel so difficult to let him go? Why did her heart cling to a man whose name she didn’t even know?

The wind rustled through the trees, tugging at her veil as she finally found her voice. “At least tell me your name” she said softly, her words barely above a whisper.

For the first time since she had met him, he seemed unsure. His gaze faltered for a fraction of a second, his hand reaching instinctively to adjust the hood of his cloak. The hesitation was brief, but Jodha caught it, her curiosity deepening.

“Imran” he said at last, the name rolling off his tongue with practiced ease.

“Imran” she repeated, tasting the unfamiliar syllables. Her eyes searched his face, desperate for some deeper understanding, some crack in the armor he wore so effortlessly. But he offered nothing, his features an impassive mask.

The wind picked up, tugging at the folds of his cloak. He gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod, then turned and walked away without another word.

Jodha stood rooted to the spot, watching his retreating figure as he disappeared into the horizon. The cloak billowed behind him, a shadowy silhouette against the backdrop of the amber sky. Her chest felt tight, the ache growing with every step he took.

Why did this parting feel so significant? What was it about him, this Imran, that stirred her so deeply?

The sound of a distant horse whinnying jolted her from her thoughts. She turned reluctantly, her footsteps dragging as she made her way back toward the palace. But even as the grandeur of Amer came into view, her mind remained tethered to the stranger who had walked away, carrying a piece of her heart she hadn’t realized she’d offered.

~~

When Jodha finally returned to the palace, she was greeted with an uproar. Servants rushed to her, some in relief, others with reprimands ready on their lips. Her elder brother, Raja Bhagwant Das and father Raja Bharmal stormed toward her, their face a mix of worry and anger.

“Where have you been, Jodha?” Bhagwant Das demanded, his voice sharp. “Do you realize what could have happened to you?”

"You are a princess. Roaming around during war time is not safe Jodha Bai" Raja Bharmal raised his voice.

“I was helping our people” she said calmly, though her exhaustion was evident. “They needed me.”

“And you think your safety means nothing?” Bhagwant Das’s tone softened slightly, but the frustration lingered. “You are a princess. You can’t just disappear like that.”

Jodha didn’t respond, her mind still replaying the events of the past two days. She allowed herself to be led away, her body complying even as her thoughts lingered on the man....on Imran.

~~

Jalal rode alone through the vast countryside, the reins of his horse loose in his hand as the animal carried him forward at a steady, unhurried pace. The soft rhythm of its hooves against the dry earth was the only constant sound, save for the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze. He had pulled the hood of his cloak low over his face, its shadow obscuring his features from any curious eyes.

The emperor’s thoughts were as restless as the skies above, streaked with pale clouds drifting aimlessly toward the horizon. This journey was one he had undertaken on a whim....or so he told himself. Disguised as a common man, he had ventured away from the gilded confines of his army’s encampment, seeking answers to questions he dared not voice aloud.

It wasn’t unusual for Jalal to travel incognito; he often claimed it gave him perspective. But today, something about the silence felt heavier than usual. His chest carried an unfamiliar weight, one that no armor could guard against.

As he rode through a stretch of open fields, the distant strains of music reached his ears. The haunting notes of a flute mingled with the deep, rhythmic beat of a drum, drawing his attention to a group of banjaaras gathered beneath a sprawling banyan tree. Their camp was modest, a collection of brightly colored tents and wagons encircling a central fire.

Jalal slowed his horse, curiosity urging him to linger. The banjaaras were singing - men and women alike, their voices weaving together in a melody that seemed to rise from the earth itself. The words of their song carried across the breeze, clear and deliberate

Amer ri Rajkumari Jodha ...sab jag se albeli

The name struck him like a blade, sharp and unexpected. Jodha. His grip on the reins tightened instinctively, though his horse sensed no urgency and continued its leisurely pace. Jalal’s expression remained unreadable, a habit honed by years of hiding his thoughts from the world. But within him, something stirred - a flicker of recognition, of intrigue. He came near the banjaaras to listen to the song.

Jalal listened, his eyes narrowing slightly as the lyrics unfolded. The banjaaras spoke of her as if she were a legend, a figure born of both flesh and myth.

Ho rang rangile gadhvi naari
Thane katha sunava
Ek lajwanti ra gun gaava
Aur sache saach batava jee ee
Amer ri rajkumari jodha
Sab jag se albeli

Aur roop dekh ke chand lajaaye
Suraj chhupe adri badri
Hoth to jaise kamal pankhuri
Hoth to jaise kamal pankhuri
Maathe makhat sajava

For reasons he couldn’t quite fathom, the words unsettled him. Jalal had always prided himself on his ability to separate sentiment from duty, emotion from logic. Yet the mention of this princess, this Jodha, made his mind wander to the woman he had encountered only hours ago. The woman who had challenged him with her defiance, her fire. Could it be…?

He dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. It was impossible. And yet…

Baal hai uske kaale badal...Naino se haare mrig nain

Muskaye to bijli chamke

Ek jhalak kar de bechain

Chale morni jaise thumak kar

Chale morni jaise thumak kar

Bole ras ghul jaava Jee ee jee ee jee ee.

Urging his horse forward, Jalal left the music behind, though the melody lingered in his mind, stubborn and unrelenting. The further he rode, the more evidence of war’s toll came into view. Villages lay in ruins, their homes reduced to little more than charred skeletons of wood and stone. Fields that had once been lush with crops were now abandoned, the earth cracked and barren. People wandered aimlessly along the dusty roads, their faces gaunt with hunger, their eyes hollow from loss.

Jalal’s jaw tightened as he took it all in. This destruction was not new to him; it was a familiar consequence of conquest. He had seen it countless times before, had justified it in the name of the empire. But today, the sight of it stirred an unfamiliar unease within him.

A group of children played near the edge of a ruined village, their laughter thin but persistent. They tossed a tattered cloth ball between them, their movements slow and weary. Jalal slowed his horse, watching them from a distance.

For a moment, he considered approaching, perhaps offering them some of the provisions he carried. But he hesitated. What would he say to them? That he, the emperor responsible for their plight, had come to offer scraps of solace? The thought felt hollow, insincere.

Instead, he rode on, his shoulders tense beneath his cloak.

The sun was beginning its descent...Jalal reached the crest of a hill and dismounted, letting his horse graze on a patch of sparse grass nearby. He stood at the edge of the slope, gazing out at the horizon. From here, he could see the vastness of his empire....the rivers that snaked through the plains, the mountains that loomed in the distance, the villages that dotted the landscape like scattered seeds.

This was what he had fought for, what he continued to fight for. An empire united under his rule, a legacy that would endure long after his time. But as he looked out over the land, he couldn’t ignore the shadows that marred the beauty. The scars of war, the suffering of the people...it all weighed on him in a way it never had before.

You cannot falter ... he murmured to himself, his voice low and resolute. The words were a reminder, an anchor. You are the emperor. Emotions are a weakness you cannot afford.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. His mind drifted back to the woman from the forest. Her defiance, her vulnerability, the way her eyes had burned with a fire that mirrored his own. She had reminded him of something he had long since buried...a part of himself that he could not afford to acknowledge.

As the first stars began to dot the sky, Jalal remounted his horse and set his sights on the distant lights of his encampment. The song of the banjaaras lingered in his mind, the name Jodha echoing like a ghost.

But he pushed it all aside - the memories, the questions, the strange ache in his chest. He was an emperor, a man bound by duty and purpose. And he would not allow himself to be swayed by emotions, no matter how insistent they might be.

The rhythmic clip-clop of his horse’s hooves resumed, carrying him away from the hilltop and back toward the life he had chosen. But even as he rode, the melody of the banjaaras followed him, a haunting refrain he could not escape.

~~

The campfires of Jalal’s encampment glowed dimly in the distance, their flickering light a beacon guiding him back to the reality he had momentarily left behind. As his horse trotted closer, the murmurs of the soldiers and the occasional clang of steel filled the air. It was the sound of an army, vast and restless, waiting for orders to march or for the next battle to unfold.

Jalal dismounted at the edge of the camp and handed the reins to an attendant. His steps were heavy, though his posture remained regal, his cloak billowing slightly in the evening breeze. He passed rows of tents....some filled with wounded soldiers groaning softly, others alive with the muffled laughter of comrades sharing a meal. The juxtaposition of life and suffering was a cruel irony he had grown used to.

“Shehenshah!” Abdul, his loyal aide, approached swiftly, bowing low. “You’ve returned. I was beginning to worry.”

“There was no need” Jalal said curtly, his voice steady but distant. “Koi khabar?”

“Reinforcements have arrived from Agra” Abdul reported, matching his pace. “The enemy movements suggest they are retreating further west, but scouts report they’re fortifying their positions near the river. We await your command.”

Jalal gave a curt nod, his mind already calculating the next move. But even as Abdul listed logistical updates, his thoughts kept circling back to the banjaaras' song, to the name “Jodha,” and to the fiery woman who had crossed his path like an uninvited storm.

He paused outside his tent, his sharp gaze cutting through the camp like a blade. “And the people?” he asked abruptly.

Abdul blinked, caught off guard. “The people, Your Majesty?”

“The villages we passed. The lands we’ve conquered. How do they fare?”

Abdul hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “There are reports of hardship, Shehenshah. The war has taken its toll. But as you’ve always said, peace demands sacrifice. Once the conflict is over, stability will return.”

Jalal’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Abdul’s words mirrored his own philosophy, the one he had clung to for years. And yet, tonight, they felt hollow.

“Leave me” he said after a moment. “I need rest.”

Abdul bowed and withdrew, leaving Jalal alone. Inside the tent, the air was warm and smelled faintly of incense. Maps of the region lay spread across a table, weighted down by brass instruments. A goblet of wine sat untouched beside it. Jalal removed his cloak and armor methodically, each piece a reminder of the role he was bound to play. Emperor. Conqueror. Shehenshah-e-Hindustan.

He sat down heavily on a cushioned stool, running a hand over his face. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel the weariness he so often pushed aside. The faces of the villagers, the cries of children, the song of the banjaaras' they all swirled in his mind, refusing to be silenced.

And then there was her. The woman with eyes like a storm, with a defiance that rivaled his own. He didn’t know her name, and yet she had left a mark on him that no sword or arrow ever could.

Who was she?

A traveler, she had said. But her bearing, her courage....it spoke of something more

Jodha.

The name echoed in his thoughts like a whisper in a silent hall. Could it be? Could she be the same Rajput princess the banjaaras sang about? The idea was absurd, and yet...it refused to leave him.

He poured himself a goblet of wine and took a slow sip, the bitter taste grounding him. Imran he muttered to himself, almost smirking at the lie he had fed her. It was a name he had plucked from thin air, a name that bore no weight or significance. And yet, it now felt like a thread binding them together, fragile but unbroken.

Far away, in the Amer palace, Jodha sat in her chambers, staring out at the moonlit courtyard. Her return had been fraught with questions and reprimands. Her brother, Sujamal, had been furious, his voice rising in anger as he demanded to know where she had been.

“You can’t keep putting yourself at risk like this, Jodha!” he had said, pacing the floor. “You’re not just anyone. Tum Amer ki Rajkunvari ho. Your life is tied to the fate of this kingdom.”

“I know” she had replied, her voice calm but firm. “But my life is also my own, Bhaisa. I will not sit behind these walls and pretend the world beyond them doesn’t exist.”

Their argument had ended in a tense silence, Sujamal storming out while Jodha remained, her heart heavy with emotions she couldn’t name.

Now, as the cool night breeze played with the tendrils of her hair, her thoughts drifted to the man who had saved her. Imran. The name felt foreign, and yet it lingered in her mind like a melody. There was something about him, something she couldn’t quite place.

She closed her eyes, the memory of his touch, his voice, his presence filling her senses.

Why did it feel as though she had left a piece of herself behind when they parted? And why did it feel like she would never be whole until she saw him again?

Unbeknownst to her, Jalal sat miles away under the same moonlit sky, grappling with questions of his own. The paths they had taken were now diverging, but the strings of fate had already begun to weave their lives together.

And neither of them, not the emperor nor the princess, could yet fathom the storm that awaited them both.

Very interesting update dear 🙂

Just loved it 🤗

Jalal & Jodha both intended to help their people & they seem to be impacted by each other and finally they parted once she reached the border of Amer kingdom

Her brother father & mother all were worried & she handles them with patience & now finally she herself is thinking of imran the person who saved her

Jalal reached back too & now he to is bit irritated & uneasy with the sufferings & blood shed going on but at least he needs to be composed to deal with this situation

Waiting for more

Thanks for the Tag 🙂

Keep writing ✍️

Originally posted by: ekta

Amazing 😍😍 Waiting when they meet with their true identity

Soon... thank you so much :)

Originally posted by: Gold.Abrol

Very interesting update dear 🙂

Just loved it 🤗

Jalal & Jodha both intended to help their people & they seem to be impacted by each other and finally they parted once she reached the border of Amer kingdom

Her brother father & mother all were worried & she handles them with patience & now finally she herself is thinking of imran the person who saved her

Jalal reached back too & now he to is bit irritated & uneasy with the sufferings & blood shed going on but at least he needs to be composed to deal with this situation

Waiting for more

Thanks for the Tag 🙂

Keep writing ✍️

Thanks Goldie. Will update soon!