Summary: jaan bhi de doon. Umeed ka kya hai
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Soft music stirs the transition between one song and the other. Amrit taps her foot unconsciously as her eyes follow Veer’s back profile. The all party conference had taken a brief sojourn and networking carried on. While the other guests from the press flitted across the room fishing for  gossip or hints on any alliances in making, Amrit took the time to rest under strict instructions from her husband, who had put the three other personnel from Aawaz on her trail.

“You guys can carry on,” she waved her hands at Kamal and Rajeev, who were still flanking her for no reason. “See I’m sitting like a cupcake. I won’t move.”
“And a very pretty cupcake you make,” a voice offers pleasantly. Owner of that voice, a man who had grown to his age rather gracefully, with strikingly blue gray eyes and spun silver hair formally bows and offers his hand for Amrit.
“Maharaja Devendra Singh Shekhawat - at your service,” he introduces himself. “While I have an ax to grind with Veer over our delayed introductions - why don’t we join a very slow dance and prompt him to rush those introductions - your highness?”
Merry mischief dances in those ancient eyes, Amrit likes him automatically, but casts a hesitant look in Veer’s direction.
“I’m supposed to be resting Rana sahab,” she says softly, although she has unconsciously placed her hand in his rather warm one. The older man laughs, his eyes twinkling merrily as he clasps her hand in his.
“And I shall make sure you do. Why don’t we let these unwilling guards of yours go and do their jobs while we join the floor.”
Seeing the merit to his words Amrit allows him to lead her to a dance. It is very slow indeed, they were merely swaying with the music, but the weary boredom that had plagued her is lifted and Amrit finds herself laughing at the older man’s humor.
“Aap dono ki badi jam gayi?” that voice or the hand pressing to the small of her back needs no introduction. Amrit inhales gratefully as she leans into Veer’s embrace, it is Maharaj Devendra who booms with laughter.
“Couldn’t wait to steal her back huh - you Pratap Singhs have such a possessive streak,” he shakes his head, willingly handing Amrit over to her waiting husband. “Now, it won’t do to keep the lady curious anymore Veer Baba, aren’t you going to introduce us?”
Amrit looks at him curiously, prompting Veer to grin.
“This is my granduncle - youngest brother of my Daadi sahab, the current head of Devghar rajparivaar - Maharaja Devendra Singh Shekhawat.”
“No - no,” Devendra stops them from bending down to seek his blessings, instead placing his hands on their heads. “No need - my blessings are always with you. Haan, I’m still miffed that you didn’t invite me to the wedding.”
Veer hangs his head at that, his arm around Amrit tightening.
“We didn’t have that sort of a wedding,” he tells earnestly, then he turns to Amrit. “There was a time when he wished to adopt me - and honestly, I’d have liked that.”
That is all he says about it, but Amrit fills out the unsaid. Devendra’s smile turns wistful.
“Nothing would have pleased me more - my boy, but you’ve grown up to be a pride and joy with your own devices.”
“Not always though -'' Veer pauses, his eyes raking over Amrit’s face. “I’ve had people guiding me out of pitfalls.” He shakes his head to divert the conversation from the dark path it had taken. “I have asked dada sahab here to take Preet under his protection for the time being.”
“Which reminds me -” Devandra clears his throat, dipping his head conspiratorially. “Have you heard the news? Rathod is out?”
Amrit’s hand moves to her throat, she massages a breath caught in her windpipe.
“He is?”
Veer pries her fingers away from their bruising hold and entwines them with his own.
"Dance with me Jaan," he mutters in her ear, steering her off with a pointed look at Devendra. Amrit's hand trembles in his and he clutches it tighter. The music avades her, drowned in the thundering of her own heart. "Humare aankhon mein dekho Amrit," Veer urges her gaze to find his. "Look at me!"
They sway gently - not quite dancing,not quite in time to the beat but still making a heartwarming picture that leaves no doubt in anyone's mind about the kind of relationship Veer Pratap Singh had with his journalist wife.
Her head tilted upwards slightly to meet his gaze doesn't waver.
"Rathod means nothing - but a pawn in this game. We have to let him move if we want to take him out. Hmm? Samajh Gayi?"
"That man is a murderer," Amrit fumbles over her words. "He can do anything! Anything - Veer, it's not a game anymore."
Veer pulls her closer, placing a warm hand against the child snuggled between them. The baby amazingly attuned to his proximity gives a timely kick. Amrit makes a sound between a sob and a chuckle.
"Whatever it is, neither of you will come to harm." He says solemnly. "Look around you biwi sahab, look how many of these people would fight simply to keep you safe."
Prompted by his words her eyes travel the hall, pausing on Devendra who nods with a smile; moving to Kamal and Rajeev chatting with some dignitaries, to Farida Begum sitting with Anwar and Omar, Rukzaar standing behind her. She finds Menka Ma in conversation with Manju although her concerned eye remains on Amrit.
"Your brother wanted to come too," Veer informs her. "But I wanted him at the Panchayat, with Preet and Shravan Singh instead. Since they know each other and he is connected enough to present your interests - it felt like the right place for him."
Amrit reaches out with a hand and places it against his heart.
"After this is done," Veer continues. "Either way -" Seeing her about to protest he holds her closer, insisting. "Either way - you will be going abroad, with Rukie."
"Not without you - not until the baby is old enough."
"The baby can grow up in England too biwi sahab. I don't want them h
ere. I don't wish even the shadow of my childhood upon them."
Amrit expels the feelings swelling up within her with a sigh and leans her forehead against Veer’s heart.
"With you and me Shrighar won't be the same. Our home won't be made of faults and fears Kuwar sahab, not even a shadow of them."
"You have no idea…" his voice trails off. Darkness of his past is betrayed only by the tightness of his jaw.
"There will be so much love, enough and more to heal all that hurt. Can't you allow a little hope to grow? Can’t you give yourself a chance to build a different kind of a home?"
His gaze on her is all sunlit brown, Amrit basks in its warmth and love. “Can’t you?”
“You just have to say the words,” he whispers against her hair, “jaan bhi de doon. Umeed ka kya hai?”
She pulls back to share a smile with him, as they continue to sway, hands clasped together.
*