Muhtesem Yuzyil Imagines ♡

Malhun Hatun (My story)

The scent of woodsmoke and determination clung to Osman Bey like a second skin. He entered the tent, his brow furrowed, a scowl etched upon his face. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Ever since the incident with the ring, a cold wind had settled between us.

"Forgive my intrusion, Hatun," he said, his voice clipped. It wasn't a request, but a formality, a reminder of the chasm that had opened between us. Shame coiled in my stomach. I, who had dreamt of being his solace, had become a source of his frustration.

"There is no intrusion, Bey," I replied, forcing a calmness I didn't possess. "Is there something I can do for you?"

He hesitated, then gestured to a seat opposite me. The air crackled with unspoken words. Finally, he spoke. "Malhun Hatun," he began, his voice heavy, "Edebali warns of a coming storm. We need an heir, a strong sapling to ensure the future of our beylik."

My breath caught. I knew what this meant. A second wife. A tremor ran through me, a cold dread settling in my bones. Yet, somewhere, a tiny bud of understanding bloomed. This wasn't about love, but about the legacy they were building, a legacy I, with my empty womb, could not yet contribute to.

"I understand, Bey," I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

He looked at me, his gaze searching, as if gauging my sincerity. A flicker of something – perhaps regret? – crossed his features before he nodded curtly. The weight of his unspoken apology pressed down on me.

The days that followed were a blur. The arrival of Bala Hatun, her gentle beauty a stark contrast to my own fiery spirit. I watched, a silent observer, as Osman Bey found solace in her quiet strength. A pang of jealousy, sharp and unexpected, pierced me, but I pushed it down. This was my duty, to the beylik, to Osman Bey.

One starlit night, I found myself drawn to the courtyard. There, bathed in the silvery moonlight, sat Osman Bey and Bala Hatun, their heads bent close, laughter bubbling from their lips. A choked sob escaped me. My love, a silent, forbidden bloom, had taken root in the most inopportune time.

Suddenly, a hand touched my shoulder. I whirled around, startled, to find Gunduz Bey regarding me with concern. "Hatun," he said softly, "you carry a burden heavier than any of us."

Tears welled up in my eyes. In Gunduz Bey's kind eyes, I found an unexpected solace. He understood, perhaps because he, too, loved someone out of reach.

"I am strong, Gunduz Bey," I said, wiping away the tears. But even as I spoke, a tremor of doubt ran through me.

As the weeks turned into months, a strange kinship blossomed between Bala Hatun and me. We were two women bound to the same extraordinary man, each playing our part in the grand tapestry of his destiny. I learned to cherish Bala Hatun's quiet wisdom, her unwavering support for Osman Bey.

One crisp morning, joy echoed through the tents. Bala Hatun bore a son, a healthy, wailing babe. Relief washed over me, a sweet, cleansing wave. The future of the beylik was secure.

Years flowed by, marked by battles won and lost, territories conquered, and alliances forged. Osman Bey, my Osman Bey, became a legend. My love for him, though unspoken, remained a constant ember within me, fueling my loyalty, my unwavering support.

And then, one glorious day, it was my turn. The heavens smiled upon me, and I bore a son, strong and healthy, with eyes that mirrored Osman Bey's own. We named him Orhan.

As I cradled my son in my arms, gazing at Osman Bey's face etched with pride, a bittersweet joy filled me. I may not have been his first love, but I was his partner, his confidante, the mother of his heir. In that moment, under the vast Anatolian sky, I knew my place in his grand story, a story that would forever be etched in the annals of history.

So this isn't based on facts, just a fanfic :)