-• the Chauhan siblings •-

[ December, 2015 ]

Yuvraaj hates returning home after a day at work. As huge as the Veer Mahal is, it never feels enough. Walking the same hallways, watching the same faces that look at him grimly, following the same schedule like a lifeless, monotonous robot, it's exhausting. He'd rather work tirelessly than come home to witness the bleak nights of their lives; always so loveless and cold.

Tonight is no different.

He had plans to skip their usual family dinner, somehow his heart wasn't aligned with his head today. He wanted to stay out. Preferably at his office, working like a clock constantly running to catch time, it's easier to avoid life when you're avoiding living. But then he encountered a raging headache, a frequent problem for people dealing with migraines and his secretary wrapped him up and sent him back home.

Strangely, he feels sensitive today. As if a slight push and he'll be collapsing like a deck of cards. He can't be at dinner today. His siblings will know something's wrong. And he has no answer to give them, especially Vivaan, because he knows the man won't give up unless Yuvraaj speaks his mind. But what will he even say? He has no idea what's wrong with him. He just knows something feels off, something isn't right, as if something, suddenly, in his perfectly functioning life has gone awry, he finds something amiss.

But what exactly is that something?

Yuvraaj hates having questions whose answers need to be found, and he hates them even more when they've no answers.

Tonight is one of those nights.

Like it's tormenting him awake because it can no longer torment him asleep, for he never sleeps anymore, the fear of the nightmares don't allow him to find safety in the arms of the night anymore.

He had woken up struggling to breath so many times not knowing if he's still in his bed or drowning in the water. It's a fear he cannot get rid of. If there are no sleeping pills to knock him out, he cannot sleep longer than an hour or two.

The hallway is brightly lit up when he walks sluggishly inside the palace. With every step, he winces, his head bursting with pain, provoking him to just bang it on a fucking wall and end it for once and all.

"Bhai is here, now speak,"

He looks up, frowning when he finds his brothers and father gathered in the living room. Despite the painful torture in his head, he straightens his posture, fixes the expression on his face and regards his family with a look of command, clutching the suit jacket in his hand as he walks in and settles down in the single sofa chair, crossing his legs before he drapes the jacket on the arm rest. "What's the occasion?" He asks as he uncuffs his sleeves and folds them until his elbows, revealing the hint of ink drawn across the canvas of his translucent fair skin, like streaks of lightning in the night skies, an evidence to his peace and rage coexisting harmoniously, not to be teased or tampered with.

"Dad said he has something important to share," Yuvaan replies.

Yuvraaj looks at their father. The man appears ashamed. It doesn't really faze the eldest. He has seen that face switching between only two emotions, shame and regret, there was never a moment when he remembered his father looking brave, happy, or even satisfied. He always had something to mourn about. First his love, then his marriage, then his kids, and now his relationship with those aforementioned kids.

"What is it? Out with it," Yuvraaj demands impatiently. He needs to go to his room. Swallow a pill or two. Take a fucking power nap so he can appear for dinner in his usual element and not like a man torn down by the unfortunate circumstances of his life. "Dad!" He snaps when the man doesn't speak up.

Vikram flinches, lifting his head, looking at his eldest son with a tearful gaze, guilt swimming in those similar pair of onyx eyes. He has made countless mistakes in his many years of existence, and he has owned them all, but this one, he never considered it a mistake, and yet he feels ashamed to own it.

As a man who only loved one woman throughout his entire life, the symbol of their love cannot be something he'd ever regret.

But as a father who couldn't live up to the expectations of his sons, yes he's terribly ashamed of what he's about to admit in front of them.

"There's someone you should know about but I never told you," he mutters.

"Not another mistress I suppose?" Agastya scoffs.

"Agastya," Yuvraaj addresses the young boy sternly. "If you cannot be serious during situations like these, I suggest you stay in your room instead of interrupting important conversations."

Agastya falls back in the sofa chair, rolling his eyes and casting his gaze away, holding an arrogant body posture. Yuvraaj dismisses the rudeness, it looks like he has more pressing matters to focus on tonight. His attention shifts back to their father, a frown crowning his devastatingly handsome young face. "Who?" He questions, his tone strict, demanding a straightforward answer.

"The- the night your mother died," Vikram sucks in a deep breath, "We were in London,"

"I know that." Yuvraaj grits out. "Just- just tell me who it is we should have known about." And his heart thumps, the answer whispers itself in the back of his head, so he clutches the suit jacket tightly in his hand, hoping it's not who he's assuming it to be. He has sacrificed his entire youth for these six lives, it'll absolutely break him knowing it was all in vain because there was someone else, someone who needed him too, and he wasn't there to protect that life.

Vikram sniffles, wiping the tears with the back of his hands. "I- I've a daughter." He stammers, shrinking into himself when Yuvraaj stands upright in shock, and Vivaan reels back, frozen in disbelief.

Deadly silence ascends in the royal palace. The night quietens down.

Agastya rips himself off the sofa chair and storms off upstairs. The slamming of his door breaks everyone else from their stupor.

"You're unbelievably disgusting," Yuvaan spits out, walking out of the living room to calm himself down and think rationally. He hated that his first reaction to the revelation was anger and hatred, instead of hurt and longing.

The twins follow their respective favourite brothers, leaving the two older Chauhan siblings in the living room, in the company of their despaired and broken father.

Vivaan gets up from next to his father, unable to shake off the feeling of resentment and rage towards the man he exists because of.

Yuvraaj paces back and forth, shock replacing the headache. He rakes his hand through his hair, dishevelling them further and unbuttons the collar of his shirt, trying to tame the fury. He cannot lose it now. It's not the time.

He stops in front of their father. "How old- how old is she?"

"Sixteen." Vikram whispers.

"Fuck." Vivaan turns his head away, hiding the tear that rolls down his left cheek.

Yuvraaj releases a trembling breath. "Her name?" He asks softly.

Vikram looks up. Hearing the footsteps coming from behind, he glances over his shoulder, spotting his fourth eldest with one of the twins. Yuvaan and Ayush walk back in too, stopping at the end of the hallway, anguished faces now watching him.

"What's her name?" Yuvraaj repeats, surprisingly tolerant of the old man's hesitation this time.

"Taranya Vikram Singh Chauhan," Vikram replies.

"She has your name!?" Agastya seethes, his aversion towards their supposedly new family member clear as day in his tone.

"Yes," Vikram answers. "She is my daughter. She has always had my name."

"Then why didn't we know about her!?" Vivaan hisses.

"Because her mother didn't want us to be a part of her life."

"And who is her mother?" Yuvraaj asks, knowing the answer, confirming it through the man himself.

"Scarlett Evans,"

"Her again!" Agastya slaps the banister, laughing acidly. "So, you didn't just stop at having an affair outside your marriage, you even had a bastard child!"

Vikram clenches his jaw.

"Agastya!" Yuvraaj shouts.

"What did I say wrong!?" Agastya retorts.

"You do not speak so abrasively regarding a family member under my roof, do you hear me?" Yuvraaj warns.

"So, she's already a family member now?" Agastya whispers wryly.

"She always was." Yuvraaj answers. "She'll be acknowledged soon. Back to your room."

Agastya stomps back upstairs. Arush turns around and rushes behind him.

"You need to get her back," Yuvaan speaks up.

"Yes, Bhai, we need to get her back." Vivaan walks up to his brother.

"But what about her mother?" Ayush questions. "Dad just said she doesn't want us to be a part of her life." He adds weakly.

"She's no more." Vikram sniffles.

Unwillingly so, Vivaan gravitates back to his father's side, unable to ebb off the feeling of pity he feels for the man. He might have never met that woman, but he knows how much his father loved her, loves her. Their love might not have had a happy ending it deserved, but it still sustained and survived in their respective hearts, never once withering or wavering. "Did you just find out now?" He asks the man.

Vikram nods blankly.

"Are you- are you okay?" He holds his father's hand gently.

Vikram pats the back of young man's palm. "I'll mourn the death of my lover later, let's bring back your sister first." He looks up at his sons.

"I don't think it'll be easy. She's technically a UK citizen. There will be so many formalities -"

"I'll make it happen. Give me twenty four hours." Yuvraaj cuts off his third eldest brother. "Our sister will return to where she belongs. Among us. With us." And he stalks off, an embassy diplomat's number already on his dialpad.

The remaining Chauhan men take a breath of relief. If Yuvraaj said he'll make it happen in twenty four hours, you know the first hour of the next day he'll be proving it to you why time bends to his will.

And so, two days later, Yuvraaj is in London, visiting the public school his half sister is studying in. He instructs his father to stay in the car, not wanting them to reunite in public and create a commotion.

He stops at the reception desk outside the principal's cabin.

"Yes?" The woman at the desk inquires.

"Please inform the principal that Yuvraaj Singh Chauhan is here. I've an appointment with him."

She nods and dials a number, reminding the principal of the appointment and informing that the visitor is already here. A few seconds later, the principal comes out to personally attend the Crown Prince of Jaigarh.

"Since you said your visit to London will be kept under wraps, I tried to be as discreet as I can regarding this meeting."

"Thank you, sir." Yuvraaj nods. "Is she in school right now?" He asks warily.

"Yes, she's in the classroom. Should I take you there?"

Yuvraaj nods. "Please," he gets up from the chair.

They take the woman at the reception along. "My secretary will bring her out, let's wait in the corridor. We don't want any unnecessary attention on you."

Yuvraaj concedes with a nod, hiding the trembling of his hand in the pocket of his trousers as he watches the woman approach the tenth grade classroom.

A few seconds later, the woman returns hastily. "She fainted!"

Driven by instinct, Yuvraaj storms inside the classroom past her, moving through the crowd of the kids formed around his half sister and nudges them aside, coming to an abrupt stop in front of her unconscious body.

"Tara," a girl hunched over taps her cheek, "Tara, wake up! Tara-"

"Move," Yuvraaj commands.

The raven haired, young girl steps back.

Yuvraaj bends and scoops Taranya in his arms, concerned how lightweight she feels in his embrace. Noticing her head hang back, he gently shifts his arm, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder and the sight of her shakes his soul from inside.

Fuck.

That's his sister.

"Taranya?" He whispers and she stirs. Something inside him breaks. He lifts her up and her head slides into the crook of his neck. He releases a shaky breath, turns around and strides out.

He may have failed to protect her for the last sixteen years of her life, but he vows now, never in future will she ever be touched, looked, or even glanced at wrongly.

And Yuvraaj Singh Chauhan may be a man born evil and unkind, but for his people, he'd lay his life bare and still not flinch in the face of death.

🕛

[ P R E S E N T ]

For the last four centuries, there was only one festival Veer Mahal could never celebrate with the same enthusiasm as other Hindu festivals.

Raksha Bandhan.

The festival that celebrates the strong bond of a brother and his sister.

The festival that stands significant to this day because there's a kind of love that's bestowed upon you the day you're born, a friendship that forms in your childhood, an acceptance of hearts that overlooks all your flaws, mistakes and imperfections, the only relationship that has the power to defy the saying because the water of the womb can be thicker than the blood of the covenant.

Traditionally, the festival symbolises the duties of brothers and their sisters, but as times changed, so did the meaning behind the festival, and now, it's more acceptable to tie rakhi to anyone you want, anyone who makes you feel protected and safe, whether a man or a woman, a friend or a father.

That's what the Chauhan siblings were used to doing seven years ago, before they knew of their sister's existence.

Then came Taranya, the youngest, most beloved princess of Jaigarh, and every year on this day, the Veer Mahal now lights up like a bride, happiness beaming in every corner of the palace.

Yuvraaj stands at the end of the corridor, dressed in a white kurta and pants, fondly watching his sister instruct the palace staff to help the people sent by the event management team.

"Bhai," he turns around at Vivaan's voice.

The grim look on his brother's face unnerves him. "What's wrong?"

"It's Agastya," the latter replies. "He's crying in his room. And he refuses to come down for the festival."

Yuvraaj sighs.

He should have known.

This festival means more to him than anyone else in this palace. Of course, all the Chauhan brothers are happiest on this day because their sister acknowledges and appreciates their love openly when she ties the rakhis around their wrists. But for Agastya it's different. He was the one who refused to accept her when she first came and Yuvraaj knows, somewhere he still feels guilty about it, guilty for the way he treated Taranya. Now he's shifting to London, away from his brothers, his friends, his sister. It must break his heart from within.

"He'll come down on his own." Yuvraaj nods. "He won't upset her on the day of his departure."

Vivaan licks his lower lip. "I hope so."

"Esther, you should be getting ready now. You've been constantly rambling about completing the rituals in time and it's already eleven thirty." Rudra appears next to her, offering her a water bottle that she takes greedily.

Yuvraaj and Vivaan look towards the couple.

"I love them together. He makes her so happy." Vivaan comments.

Yuvraaj hums, hating that his heart agrees.

"Thank you so much. I'm parched." She twists open the cap and swigs the water in five large gulps.

"Slowly, love, slowly," he tsks, tucking back the free strands on her face.

She chuckles. "I've no time to be slow right now." She presses a kiss on his cheeks. "Can you please check if the food tastes good or not? I'm kind of nervous these loafers of my brothers will find something to criticize about. Especially that Agastya and Arush." She grumbles.

"I don't think Agastya will be complaining about anything anytime soon." Janet descends the stairs. "He's busy crying in his room."

"What!?" Taranya slams the bottler on her husband's chest and rushes upstairs.

"Wow, he's sensitive." Shourya snorts.

Yuvraaj squints his eyes at the young man in his living room. His standoffish and cold attitude was starting to piss him off now . He was only allowing the boy to accompany his brother because of Rudra and Taranya's insistence.

"Shourya," Rudra chides. "This is not our place. Please don't make me regret bringing you here."

Shourya rolls his eyes. "They were into it with you when you fooled me with the whole story of Taranya's and my marriage. I'm sure they've some conscience left."

"Shourya," Rudra grits out, glancing towards Yuvraaj consciously and realising he's starting to get furious. "I'm sorry about him," he mutters and walks towards the man on the couch, dragging him out of his seat and outside of the living room.

Yuvraaj sighs and turns around to leave. Until Taranya finds a fitting time to perform the rituals, he should get some work done in his study.

But he takes a step forward and halts abruptly hearing someone speak a familiar name behind.

"Sara?"

Yuvraaj grows rigid.

She's here?

The place she referred to as a golden cage and promised she'll never return to?

He whips around. Swallows harshly. The two Rajawat men block his sight of her. His restlessness camouflages itself beneath the veil of curiosity. Hides it so well he doesn't acknowledge it himself.

"You're really here," he hears Shourya whisper in awe.

"It's Raksha Bandhan. My brothers are here. Where else would I be then?"

Rudra and Shourya move, clearing his sight of her and for the first time in two decades, he sees her smile genuinely.

His heart races like wheels with no brakes.

Its doom written at the next cliff.

One he's afraid is around the corner for him.

So close.