Summary: If I could take a bullet for Veer - you shouldn’t think I would hesitate to fire it either.

◇◇◇

That is how Nalini Devi finds them, when she walks in belatedly to the gathering. From the get go itself, neither Veer nor Amrit had abided by her norms of decorum. Even here, among so many dignified guests - at such a prestigious occasion - these two had eyes for one but each other. And the sort of look they shared, it seemed to make everybody else pale into insignificance. Nalini huffed silently, she did not see Veer’s own side of delegates standing this down, where he obviously bluntly ignored them to lavish attention on his penniless wife. That’s what you get for hyping him up, she muttered to herself, casting yet another reproachful look before she scooted off in search of her own people.
There was still time for her point to be made. Then she shall see how happy each of these people will be.
“Nalini,” a voice called her over, surprisingly devoid of the usual respect attached to her name. Nalini did turn and found herself glared down by Farida.
“I see you’ve found your way here,” Farida folds her arms with a casual indifference that drives the other woman to quite a temper. “I’ve been meaning to tell you since long - Lekin mauka nahi mila -” she takes a menacing step closer. “Stay away from my children.”
Nalini’s lower lip trembles with fury. So much so that she could claw the smirk off the other woman’s face with her bare hands. But with so many high ranking people whose opinion mattered to her around, she would not allow herself to be worked into such a temper.
“I have no interest in your children.” she bites out instead. But the other woman had installed herself so well in her path that Nalini couldn’t simply walk away.
“Let me elaborate,” Farida says instead. “Those two there - the ones you were putting your buri nazar  on - those are my children.” Nalini doesn’t have to follow her gesture to know she meant Veer and Amrit. Of cause she means them. “You’ve done enough already. I’ve allowed you to do enough.”
“As if you could do anything -”
“Trust me - Nalini. Mahendra may not have warned you on this. But you seriously don’t want to see what all I could do. If I could take a bullet for Veer - you shouldn’t think I would hesitate to fire it either.”
“I seriously don’t want to think you are threatening me Farida. Here, in the broad daylight. Surrounded by your party delegates and mine. What would anyone think if they heard their great candidate talk this way to a follow candidate?”
“No. Not a candidate. A mother.” Nothing Nalini would say, none of those worthless worldly concerns would keep the fire out of Farida’s eyes. “Had you not been Veer’s mother, I’d have taught you your place long ago - Nalini Devi ji. I would have done it for the friend I’ve lost - or for his son who kept losing one thing after the other chasing after you. You may have spent years trying to install in Veer’s head that he doesn’t deserve to be your son. But the truth is - and truth remains - that you don’t deserve to be his mother. You don’t. If it had been anyone but him - any other man - you would have learned that sooner.”
“It isn’t me who still needs to learn,” sometimes when Nalini allows her feelings to bleed into her expression, it does twist her mouth into the most hideous of sneers. “Agar itna garv hai apne bachchon par - toh bacha lijiye unhe.” She smiles as if an afterthought. “You can take a bullet for Veer - but if given the chance would he do the same for you? Between you, who wishes to take credit for raising him over his own mother - and his pretty dear wife - soon to be mother to his child, who do you think Veer will save first? If he could?”
*
That conversation pauses. So does the dance. For a second or two nothing seems to move. Or everything does.
For the blast comes from nowhere. And from everywhere. In a moment glass is scattering across the ground, tiny, sharp particles flying in the air, fogged with cement dust. People are flung around and screams pierce the air.
A moment before it had been an amicable - merry - gathering. A moment later, it is bloody chaos.
From the fog walks out masked men, clothes covering their faces - dark grabs mufflying any marks that could have betrayed their identity. They are armed, plenty and taking over the chaotic anarchy sooner than anyone would think.
Two shots in close proximity are fired into the air, the heavy chandelier that remained loosely intact on the ceiling shatters on the ground flinging a shower of crystals everywhere.
“Nobody moves!” One of the men announces in a voice muffled behind the cloth masking his identity. “Nobody leaves, not until we get what we’ve been demanding since beginning.”
The voice carries over and in the foggy debris Amrit stirs. Her first urge is to scream, which she would have followed if a hand had not clamped against her mouth.
Dimly she becomes aware of Veer's frame pillowing her fall. Her eyes meet his in a silent question and assurance. There is a bleeding cut at his brow, dust had settled in his hair and coated his face. He shifts minutely, shifting so that her head lies on his other arm. Pressed against him, she could feel the agitated beat of his heart, feel as his palm moved over her abdomen in a silent question. The baby kicks before Amrit could answer and the relief is almost palpable in Veer's features.
They nod to each other - barely allowing that fragment of a moment to set aside their worries as the attackers rage over them. Those men walk among debris, having no patience to wait until the dust settles. Kicking away limbs and heads that obstruct their path, peering into grim smudged faces searching for people who would hold weight as hostages. All the while they made enough noise to drown out the faint sounds of moaning, or injured people stirring awake.
Of all the battlefields Amrit had imagined before arriving here, she had not expected things to follow the literal meaning of the word so well.
“Move,” Veer’s voice is faint enough to be an imagination on its own. But his grip on her arm is insistent. He mouths the same word making sure he had her attention. “Move.”
He draws her into the shadowed obscurity of a corner created by a collapsed column. Amrit swallows the urge to clap her hands on her ears and scream at the sights scattered around her and follows. Their silent, coordinated moves manage to evade the eyes taking note of survivors.
"Who are they?" Amrit whispers against Veer’s shoulder, clenching her teeth to stop them from cluttering. "What do they want?"
"There are princely states still considering which country to join," Veer's answer is similarly low toned. "Most of them are struggling through chaos. This seems to be an attempt of one to push our leaders into immediate action."
Amrit says nothing for a moment, her hand bunches on Veer’s lapel, trying to anchor herself. He dips his head fractionally and brushes a kiss against her hair.
"Stay here."
Her eyes flicker to him in alarm.
"What are you going to do?"
Veer presses his mouth into a thin line and exhales through his nose.
"We need to bring others out."
For a moment she is tempted to hold him, stop him from walking away. There is a sinking feeling of forbidding in her heart, the kind that she would not dwell upon.
"Find the candidates," one of the men tells to the others. "We need to separate them from the rest."
Amrit and Veer share a look and Amrit nods to him briefly. It takes only a dusty moment and he is gone.
**