Warrior Hearts

Navigating The Unknown

"You'll have to sit up, Malhotra." I say, as I place the pitcher of water back on the table. "Otherwise I fear that you will choke."

"Your wish is my command, Madame. But I'll be needing your help," Malhotra says. However, before the words are out of his lips, I am already on my feet, ready to help him up. Truth be told, regardless of whether he agreed or not, I'd ensure that he drank this goblet of water while sitting up.

"Oh, so now I'm your nurse?" I ask, even though in all honesty, I have no issues with tending to Malhotra. This is a duty that I owe to both, my friend and Father's saviour.

"More like my wife," Malhotra retorts. Positioning myself beside his head, I slide my arm across his shoulder blades and grip his left forearm firmly. "Or my mother. To be honest, I'm unsure whether a wife would take care of me to such a great extent. Heck, I doubt anyone can love another like that." Distracted by the task at hand, I turn a deaf ear to Malhotra's words, as I lock my other arm underneath his armpit. Lord, please don't let me disturb his bandages, I pray.

"This might hurt just a bit." I warn, as I push Malhotra away from the pillows. At once, a cry escapes his lips; a sound that leaves every hair on my skin standing. However, I don't react in this manner because of fear, or a faint heart. In fact, the wounds I've incurred and witnessed in the battlefield are nothing compared to Malhotra's. On the contrary, I find myself reacting to his pain in this manner because his cry causes my heart to constrict in its place. I don't want him to undergo any sort of agony, regardless of the magnitude. Especially not when the situation isn't even of his own making.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star." I sing in a whisper, as every last ounce of my strength goes into pulling Malhotra up into a sitting position. "How I wonder what you are." I continue, as my eyes squeeze shut on their own volition, due to the strain on my muscles. Lord, this man is muscular. "Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky." Releasing a sigh, I let my arm rest behind Malhotra's neck, as I grab the goblet with my free hand.

"Have small sips," I instruct. Lowering myself onto the empty spot beside Malhotra, I hold the goblet up to his lips. Without a word, he obliges.

"That's it," Malhotra says, once he's had his share.

"You're not a bad patient, I must admit." I say, as I return the goblet back to its place on the table. "Well, at least a better one than Noel, that's for sure." When I look back towards Malhotra, I realise that he's shifted down a few inches.

"I'm comfortable like this." Malhotra explains, as I begin to pull my arm out from behind him. "No, Princess, leave it there." My friend's eyes shy away from me. At the same time a smile spreads across my lips. I wish to call him out on the over enthusiastic tone in which he just said that. However, I fear that if I do so, he will ask me to remove my arm, and so I let his reaction slide just this once. Truth be told, I find it ironic how Malhotra never seems to mind my touch, and I was once repulsed at his.

"As you so often say, your wish is my command, Malhotra." I repeat his all-time favourite line, as I place my right palm on his forehead, pushing back the stray strands of hair that have fallen across it. Once I'm done with doing so, instead of removing my hand, I begin to pass it over his soft hair. For some reason, I have begun to crave physical contact with Malhotra. In fact, I'm unsure of how I even know what to do, or if I'm doing the right actions because I've never touched another affectionately in this manner before. However, all that I do, does feel like second nature to me. At least I feel right doing it all, but I'm unsure of how Malhotra's receiving the said actions.

"Princess, I do apologise but I have to ask, were you just singing me a nursery rhyme?" Malhotra asks, as he turns his head to gain a better view of my face. Smiling, I nod my head.

"It's one of my favourite's," I admit, glancing down at my lap. This isn't the easiest confession for an adult to make. "In fact, I sang it to Noel so many times that it's become the one nursery rhyme she absolutely cannot stand anymore. Malhotra, I would always sing this to her whenever she'd be ill, and was unable to sleep. It always worked like a charm then, and distracted her from bitter concoctions, or raging fever headaches. I don't know why it came out where you're concerned, but look at the silver lining, you did forget your pain." Shrugging my shoulders, I look up to meet Malhotra's gaze, only to find amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"So now you sing, too, Princess?" He asks incredulously, shaking his head. "Dear God, you're like Pandora's box. No one knows what's inside, but there's so much to discover."

"I don't sing," I murmur, rolling my eyes at this false praise of Malhotra's. "It was just this once because you were in pain. Never again," I state firmly.

"Oh come on, you can't lure me to the honey, only to snatch it away from the very bottom of my nose," Malhotra argues. "It's inhumane." Furrowing my brows in confusion, I look down at my friend questioningly.

"Help me better understand this," I say. "You're telling me that you enjoyed hearing me sing that nursery rhyme to you?"

"Most certainly, yes!" Malhotra exclaims, causing me to raise my eyebrows in surprise.

"To the dungeons with me, but you, Sir, are most certainly not in your senses." I announce, as a bark of laughter escapes my lips. "Just this once, though, you can blame the concoctions."

"Always selling yourself short." Malhotra whispers, his voice so low that I nearly missed his words.

"Okay, forget about me. We yet have to decide whether I'm your mother, or nurse." I say, abruptly changing the topic. Truth be told, I am not used to Malhotra's praises. I most definitely love hearing them and replaying them in my head. However, that doesn't quite mean I am comfortable with them just yet.

"What about the wife option?" Malhotra asks, pouting.

"That's off the table," I reply dismissively. "I just don't see that ever happening, be it in the near future or a decade from now." Scrunching up his face at me, Malhotra stares at me like a child who has just been told he won't be receiving any presents on his birthday. "Don't push your luck," I warn, hearing his unsaid thoughts. "I'll demote you to being my brother."

"Wife, or nurse is fine." Malhotra says hastily, my words having their desired effect. "Speaking of wives and nurses, you've reminded me of something Mother once told me. Do you wish to know, Princess?" Eagerly, I nod my head, urging Malhotra to spill the beans. For dramatic effect, without which his night would surely be incomplete, Malhotra clears his throat before beginning his narration.

"A year or so ago, I came down with a fever and Mother was tending to me with wet cloths and all of that nonsense," Malhotra begins. "That night, somehow, the conversation drifted towards the topic of love. So Mother told me to find a lady, who would take care of me during my sick times the way a parent would; the way a mother would. She told me that my lady love should bear the strength to stay awake by my side, hold my hand through the chills, ensuring that the cloth on my head never dried out, before my fever broke."

Scoffing, Malhotra shakes his head. I can tell that his mother's words, in this instance, hold no value for him. It's either because he doesn't believe in finding such a lady love, or he doesn't believe in love at all.

"Mother told me that when I chanced upon, or found such a woman, then she's the one for me. Why, you may ask, Princess? Because I was told that night that no one's love is beyond that of a parent's, and when my partner's actions begin mirroring such a love, it means that she loves me truly and wholly."

"Did she, by any chance, tell you as to how a lady would know whether she's found the one for herself?" I ask curiously. My mother isn't around to shed such wisdom upon me, but perhaps, Malhotra's mother can unintentionally do so.

"Mother said I'd know if I love that girl equally - if not more - is if I'd do the same for her. What I mean to say is, if I'd, too, willingly sacrifice my sleep for her, and compromise with my peace for hers, without a second thought, then that's the epitome of love from my end." Malhotra explains. Nodding, I absorb his words.

"So love is sacrifice?" I ask, tilting my head to the side ever so slightly, as I try to fully comprehend the knowledge my friend has just parted with me.

"Love comes at the price of pain." Malhotra agrees, nodding his head.