FF: All's well that ends well...LAST PT+EPI, PG-16

Thank you people for being so understanding and sweet!!!! So here is an out and out romantic story for you people? ?

Hey guys,

I promise I won't discontinue this fanfic.

I wanted to write a period story, I did write about Akbar and Jodha, but that was different. This is about kings and all, they really do fascinate me. Royalty is pompous but too cool. You must be thinking I am so crazy, I get fascinated by every other thing, to be honest I am crazy and yes certain things do capture my imagination. My sister jokes that I never see what others usually/generally see, I always have this highly complicated (which can be irritating), different view about things. So be it. I used to read stories of the brave Robin Hood when I was small; I even had an animated VCD of 'Adventures of Robin Hood' (I don't know how many times I saw that). So, Jai is inspired by Robin Hood. I still am in my 'Jodha is a beautiful mystery' phase, Bani will be a lot like her, let's see how she shapes up.

Comments as usual are welcome, good or bad. Silent readers, it will not hurt to leave a word, dearies?

I just took the liberty to borrow the name from Shakespeare's play; it has nothing to do with it though.

As for the dialogues, I thought it will be good if I stick to one language, a mixture of Hindi and English will spoil the essence, writing in Hindi is too tiring, I can but I have to think a lot, so I stuck to English. Imagine Indian kings and queens conversing in English?

Well I had started writing this story days ago, but then recently Gayatri Devi demised, and she certainly fascinates me, I am searching for her book 'A Princess Remembers'. Just for a bit of authenticity I have added an interesting prologue and will add an epilogue to this story?

ENJOY!!!!
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All's Well That Ends Well

Prologue? ?

"Shibs?are you coming?" a little boy called out to his elder sister?shibani turned around, waving her hand?

"I would in a minute sam?" she replied in her sweet voice to her brother sameer?

She moved around in an elegant manner, elegancy came naturally to her without even trying, and the more charming part was she wasn't even aware of it, observing the huge life depicting portraits of her ancestors? she looked a pretty thing even in her casual blue jeans, a crisp white shirt, her hair held in a high ponytail, a few charm bracelets making tinkling noise adorning her wrist? ?

Today was a big day for their family as it was the book launch party of the book based on their dynasty written by one of the most famous queens of all times and there was no way she could miss such a momentous occasion she being the great-great granddaughter of the Maharaja and Maharani of Udaipur, Jaivardhan Singh and Bani Devi? ?

Her great-great grandmother had personally penned documents about their life and encounters, and her highly intellectual grand-aunt had translated those antique preserved documents which were in Marwari into English and published a book named?"Memoirs?"-through the eyes of a Princess?after a long, tedious research of almost ten years? ?

Though they were no princely states in India anymore but the royalty still existed and people did come to the kings and queens with their grievances, but Shibani and her family had always been a bit uninvolved in the affairs as they were settled in London but during her summer holidays she had always visited the places and other places?they fascinated her?and the history attached to the wondrous things left a deep impact on her nineteen years old brain?

Just as she swayed to walk away her eyes feel on the largest portrait hung in the gallery?she had seen it several times but today it appeared to be different? under the dwindling lights of the dusk?it glowed? ?

Her feet automatically took her to it?she stood, glancing up at the hand-made portrait; the vibrant colors seemed to breathe life? ?

Jaivardhan looked tall and handsome, with sharp features, dressed in traditional attire, a cream color sherwani, with a turban, holding his stone embedded sword in one hand and the other hand casually placed on his beautiful wife's shoulder, who was sitting on a chair, smiling, looking radiant?according to the date she was pregnant with their first child then, still in her early months but the she didn't; miss the glint of happiness and satisfaction in Bani Devi's eyes?

She clutched the book in her hand, the one defining image of the portrait which was imprinted on the imagination of the people and artistically framed on the cover page of the book? ?she opened the book? ?
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God bless
Dhani

Film making, good god!!! I do like watching interesting films but I am into engineering and I love it (even my friends wonder how I ended up there because according to them I should have been admiring Shakespeare)
No, this is nothing of past and present like 'Love Aaj Kal'…keep reading people… …

PART-1

Her screams seemed to reverberate through the amorphous membrane of darkness to grate annoyingly upon the nerves of the hard knot of gathered women. The girl, however, was to be given no assistance through the birthing process. The women were there to act only as observers of the birth of the yet-to-come. Grunting and panting violently, she crawled at their feet, a hand clutched to her engorged belly, copious tears mingling with the streams of red dust-stained perspiration that streaked her young body with vivid color. The pains were close now, almost one on top of the other. Her time had come. A sudden violent contraction caused her eyes to roll back and her throat to convulse and a scream became as guttural as that of a wild animal in its final death throws.

The beautiful young maiden of the clan of Rajputs bathed in the river and sang with childish abandon, completely oblivious to the intense eyes that watched from the riverbank. Her creamy wheat-colored skin gleamed as droplets of water separated in rivulets as they ran off her taut young body. A lighter colored skin was admired among girls. Shloka was a rare beauty and 20-year-old Uday Pratap Singh, the prince of Udaipur, swallowed as he stared lasciviously at her nubile 16-year-old form.

The women watched, stoically immobile and unmoved by the girl's agony and obvious panic and fear. Only the faint twitching of Samyukta's hands and the strong pulse in her neck betrayed her conflicting emotions. She and Shloka were of the same age and had been childhood playmates. It was hard to relate the pretty giggling girl of then to the screaming pain-crazed creature before her. Samyukta clasped her hands tightly together and allowed her eyes to glaze over to block out the disturbing images. The abomination would soon be born and they would kill it. The customary way to do this was to take the infant and drown it in the flowing Som River cleansing all sins. This baby had been conceived out of wedlock - the illegitimate child of Uday Pratap Singh. He would not recognize this child because it had been conceived with a girl from what was considered to be a lesser class.

She gathered her long skirt to her bruised body and rose stiffly to her feet – blood stained her tender thighs. He had been brutal but nobody had paid any attention to her screams for help. Her head held high, she walked the remaining distance from the river back to the village. Others averted their heads. Now, she would not be permitted to participate in the upcoming navratri festivals of the Goddess Durga, she was a sin, a grievous sin.

Shloka clutched and clawed at samyukta's legs, her huge dark eyes imploring and desperate but her friend remained rigid and unmoving. The yet-to-be-born seemed to literally be tearing her young body apart.

"I am dying! Help me!!!!" she cried out… …

An elder placed her hands roughly under shloka's armpits and dragged her away from Samyukta. She could see the girl was weakening but there would be no help. If she died in childbirth it would not be a bad thing. She was a shame to the clan and her family anyways.

In a vision she saw her son high upon a hilltop; his arms thrust high in victory. A shield clasped in one hand and a royal sword in the other. She heard voices rose in unison, crying,

"We salute our king"

There was a hush of silence at the moment of birth. Even the young mother in the grip of bearing down had become silent. The yet-to-be-born finally arrived looking suspiciously like any other baby, slid from his mother's body in a sluice of blood and water, it was a boy. Samyukta lifted the child by its feet while an elder cut the cord and finally ministered to the exhausted mother. Shloka died unable to withstand the insurmountable pain. The child wailed loudly…as if mourning his mother's unceremonious death he had brought with his illegal birth…

Samyukta gradually took the weeping child, wrapping up him in a crisp white sheet; she walked towards the bank of the dangerously quite Som…her hands shook, for the first time the life-sustaining river seemed like an engulfing sea monster they heard in the folklore tales and fables as bedtime stories, she looked behind…everyone was eagerly waiting for her to do it.

"This was a crime" she said to herself…quietly spotting a basket beside she took it, thanks to the darkness the visibility was low…she fetched the sun pendant, it was Uday's, shloka had snatched it from him in an attempt to defend herself, winding it around the infant's neck. It was the emblem of the great kingdom of Udaipur. She placed the now silent infant in the basket and left him in the ferocious waters, letting him wade away…

If it was in his destiny to survive, he would, or else he would reach his mother's lap…she had paid her penance to her dear friend…

Even a year later samyukta couldn't forget that dreadful night, as she sat in the palanquin accompanying the Princess of Bikaner as a maid servant who was married to none other than the prince of Udaipur. The crying shrieks of Shloka and the weeping of the child echoed in her ears and she she knew they would never cease to echo… …she had to live with them, forever… …some memories weren't meant to be forgotten……
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God bless
Dhani…

P.S.: I know chota part but then I have to stop here…next will be our hero's introduction… …

HEY dhani

Hey Dhani,