Minotaur

Summery: he is both monster and the maze and she has long back lost the thread of returning.
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Somebody had read her a Greek myth once. Amrit doesn't remember who, but she remembers the pounding of her heart as she clutched a pillow and listened - heart in her mouth - about how the hero entered a dark maze by tying a string to its entrance and keeping the other end in his hand. At the centre of the maze awaited a monster.

Navigating life with Kuwar Veer Pratap Singh was somewhat similar. He was the maze and the monster both and with a gust of wind she had just lost the end of her string. Amrit would later laugh at herself for thinking of Greek myths when the monster was breathing down her face but that moment when the pardha slipped and finally her eyes met with Veer's, it was all her numb mind had conjured.

In her relatively young life Amrit has faced several angry men. It became the norm of the times she lived in, the world she survived on a daily basis, between two infuriated men - one her brother Uday and the other her make believe husband, she could still hold her ground. She expected him to lash out, go for her throat at the very least - his eyes were liquid fire, his mere stare scorching. Behind her, she could feel Uday shift, ready to launch himself at Veer.

Veer shifted, his grip leaving her unexpectedly. She did not waste time on analysing him, instead she turned to beg Uday.

Amrit knew her brother would take nothing but truth, but truth she couldn't give him then and there. She implored him with her eyes, and willed him to understand.

"Aap jaayiye veerji," she pleaded. "I'll come to see you. Please, please..."

Uday pauses, looks at her and sighs. His shoulders droop as the fight leaves him. Amrit has no doubt that her brother would take her away at the cost of his life if she indicates her unhappiness in the slightest. But she has motives in coming here. She cannot turn back so soon after starting her fight.

Yet when Uday leaves, when they all leave one by one - some relieved that no harm was done, some disappointed that the drama did not escalate - leaving her alone to face the monster in the middle of her maze, Amrit is no longer certain of her choices.

Veer's anger is scathingly cold and silent as the dead of a winter night.

"Kamre mein aayiye Zara," he says smoothly and leaves without waiting to see if she had followed. Amrit swallows at his tone, but follows him nevertheless.

There is no longer a string to keep track of her route in the dark, there is no leaving of this maze she had walked willingly into - she'd very well face the monster and be done with it once and for all.

The click of the gun makes her pause at the threshold. Veer doesn't turn to look at her, instead religiously dismentals and reassembles his gun.

His movements are deliberate, hands steady with what could only be years of practice. Even as she notes the veiled threat of his actions, they remind her of her father. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth that something so particular would associate this man with her fond memories of home.

"Shut the door." He checks the trigger and adjusts the barrel. His voice is still casual. Amrit complies.

When she bolts the door and turns, Veer is before her, his weapon drawn and pointed, aiming between her eyes.

"Give me one good reason not to shoot you now."

For all the mental preparation, Amrit breathes through her open mouth.

"You won't shoot me, Kuwar Sahab, you want me to think you would. You simply can't claim to love your wife to the moon and back a few moments before and then murder her in cold blood inside your bedroom. Even if we put aside how it will affect your reputation - you don't want to be labelled insane do you?"

As the words leave her mouth Amrit wonders why this man always ends up bringing out such fire in her. It rages inside her, the bitter reality of her helplessness, the hurt, the disappointment - and the coil it binds her in eases as she lashes out at Veer. His eyes flickers in surprise. His jaw tightens in anger. She'd never seen a man easier to read or provoke, or more satisfying to hurt.

"Shatir ho tum," he says, lips tugging in a mocking smile. "Well played Mrs. Veer Pratap Singh- well played!"

He lowers the gun, but never puts it down.

"But there are things you never learned about me. One - I have no qualms of being called a madman, I've heard it thousand times before. By my own mother no less. Such a liberating word it is. Pagal. Kabhi bhi kuch bhi kar sakthe hai. Kuch bhi. "

He looks at her pointedly, notices with satisfaction how a little colour drains from her face.

"I won't trust you again," he continues. "Itne bhi pagal nahi hai hum. But," he paused, stepped closer - watching her, until he looms over her, the cold barrel of his gun pressed against her side.
"Hum aap ki himmat ke kadar karte hai. Therefore I'm giving you this one chance to come clean. You know my weakness - you've exploited it by installing yourself into my family, that even if I wish to - as you said I cannot remove you without implications. So it is only fair that I get hold of your weakness in return."

The cold metal digs into her skin. Amrit doesn't dare flinch.

"It's not that I can't kill you now. I'd rather not. Shatir ho tum, mouka hai, faida uttha lo."

"There is a man," she speaks before she thinks it through. "Whose freedom I wish to buy. It doesn't matter if the cost is my own life in return. He is in a Pakistani jail."

Veer's smile is slow, but sharp as a razor.

"Tumhara aashiq," he says savagely.

"That doesn't concern you."
He withdraws the gun and himself, leaving her to catch her breath.

"True. It doesn't concern me," he shakes his head to himself. "Do a proper job and your work will be done."

Amrit turns away, a hand clasped against her heart, a silent prayer on her tongue and blinking away her tears. She'd not stoop as low as to let Veer see how much of a relief his words brought her, or how dependent she was on his promise.

"Bohut pyaar karti ho usse?" He calls after her, abruptly, causing her to halt. "Kudh se zyaada?"

He sounds speculative and a little curious. Veer approaches her again, turns her to face him, his eyes searching her face.

"You do realize you'll never see him again, right? Because I don't later want great drama over sachcha pyaar, rub ka ishara, kismet ka rishta etc etc... zindagi ka sauda kiya hai madam," he bows and touches his forehead to hers, lips tugged in a mocking grin. "Zindagi bhar nibhana padenga."

"Chaar kadam," she says instead. He looks at her blankly. "You are forgetting your own rule Kuwar sahab."

His grip on her tightens and Veer clenches his jaw. Before he replies however somebody politely knocks on the door.

"Breakfast is laid out Chote hukum, aap ke aur bahu rani ki intazaar ho rahi hai."

Veer sighs and steps back, leaving her to go and unlock the door.

Deliberately, he ignores to inform her how dishevelled she looked, or how her sindoor was smudged leaving a trace of it along his forehead. Instead he addresses the flustered servant over her shoulder.

"Won't a person get two minutes to spend with their wives in this place? Hadd hai mathlab...!"

"My apologies hukum," the servant bows and Veer shooes him with a disinterested hand gesture and holds Amrit back before she leaves.

With deliberate slowness he adjusts her Dupatta on her head, straightens her necklace and wipes away the smudge of sindoor neatly.

"Rani ma send him. Humari jhasoosi karne," he explains in a low tone. "Now that you are here, do take care. Yahaan deewaron ki sirf kaan hi nahi aank, naak, muh, daat sab hote hai. Kahi kaat na lein."

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