Warrior Hearts

Unfiltered Thoughts

A low hum of approval escapes my throat as I lean my head back. Opening my eyes, I stare up at the blanket of stars above me. Regardless of the knowledge that I have to march into war tomorrow - to face an enemy who has the potential to make tomorrow the last day I raise my weapon - tonight, I am utterly at ease. Perhaps this effect is the miracle of the comforting, ebony blanket which seems to have wrapped itself around me, or maybe it's the wind that is gingerly caressing my tresses, like a mother's fingers combing through her child's hair. Or I'm satisfied at the thought that Malhotra's tent is setup on a lower level than mine is on this mountain. 

Furrowing my brows together, I sit up, my back straight as a stick. Why in the world did that wretched man's name have to intrude into my mind much like an uninvited, unwanted guest? The sense of calm that was draped around me has now disappeared in the blink of an eye. Sighing, I shake my head in disapproval at myself.

"I thought I told you to stay put back home." Before the words have had the chance to fully click together in my mind, so that I can make sense of them, my body grows taut with tension. There's no way in the world that I would fail to recognise this voice; his voice. Pursing my lips, I continue to stare straight ahead, refusing to turn around and so much as blink in his direction. However, as the stray twigs and dried leaves crunch under the soles of his boots behind me, I cannot fight the clenching of my jaw.

"I understand by now that you have a death wish, Princess." Malhotra continues, almost as if my cold shoulder treatment is failing to convey my lack of interest in his presence to him. Perhaps he's merely too dense to comprehend my emotions. A small smile plays at the corners of my lips as I give myself the slightest nod of approval at the latter thought. "But shouldn't you save your death quota for tomorrow?"

"I'd never taken you as a man who'd stab me from behind my back," I retort. As soon as the words have escaped from the confines of my lips, I shut my eyes. For heaven's sake, why does my self control over my thoughts and actions fall short in front of this man? The plan was to completely ignore his presence - as if he did not exist for me altogether - and yet here I find myself responding to his words like a sailor to a siren's call.

A low chuckle escapes Malhotra's lips upon hearing my words. However, I do not miss the slight quiver that creeps into this sound. It could be the light chilly breeze that's getting to Malhotra, if he's come unprepared without the right attire.

"I'm not referring to myself as your enemy, Princess," he informs me. "Trust me, of all my intentions, stabbing you in the back - physically - is surely not on my list."

"As if you could even if you wished to," I murmur. Scoffing, I shake my head in disbelief at Malhotra's high hopes.

"I meant to say, you're sitting awfully close to the edge." Malhotra explains from behind me. "I'd suggest you move back by a few feet, for your own safety, of course." Narrowing my eyes, I cock my head to the side. Of all the people on this planet, I never once thought that Malhotra would be concerned about my safety. For a few seconds his words render me speechless. Clearing my throat, I shift in my position to turn my head and rest my gaze on the man behind me.

Malhotra is standing a good distance away from me, his eyes warily focused on me. Frowning, I watch him in return. His body is oddly tensed for someone who's here to strike up a casual conversation. On the contrary, I trail my gaze along the length of his frame only to find his right foot awkwardly resting in front of the other, almost as if Malhotra's ready to pounce in my direction at any given second. Truth be told, the stance that he has adorned is one that I've often seen mirrored by an animal that senses danger around him; as if he's ready to flee, or attack, whichever is necessary. As my eyes find Malhotra's face once again, I catch his gaze flit momentarily towards the edge of the mountain; a movement that I would've missed had I blinked.

"Are your nerves always acting up before marching into a battle like this?" I ask, raising my eyebrows to seek an answer from Malhotra. After all, considering his body language, this is the only plausible reason that I could come up with for his odd behaviour.

"Oh for God's sake, Princess, I'm not nervous about tomorrow." Malhotra says dismissively, scrunching up his face at my seemingly farfetched guess. "I just feel that you should move away from the ledge." Once again, I follow his gaze as it eyes the edge doubtfully, as if a demon will reach out from below and drag me down with it into the deepest pits of hell. An incredulous smile tugs my lips upwards, realisation dawning on me.

"Malhotra, are you afraid of heights?" I question in disbelief, amusement seeping into my tone at the thought. Momentarily, I witness Malhotra's brown orbs widen at my words; a cloud of panic flashing across his face. On their own volition, my shoulders begin to shake with laughter. Malhotra's expression has answered my question, without him uttering a single word. Who would've thought? The supposedly mighty, indestructible leader in front of me is afraid of heights! Lord, this is surely the greatest irony of all time.

"O-Of course not." Malhotra denies, as he furrows his brows together; quite clearly upset that I have seen through his indestructible facade. Alas, the waver in his voice, complemented by the stammer, is a telltale sign of his lie. Disbelievingly, I shake my head, unable to wipe the grin off of my face. "Good God, Princess, you're in fits of laughter as if I've cracked the joke of the century." Pouting like an offended child, Malhotra ducks his head towards the ground. I watch as he draws patterns in the soil with the toe of his right boot, quite clearly embarrassed at this revelation.

"Trust me, Malhotra, this piece of information is better than any joke." I say, the muscles of my face complaining as they begin to ache.

Pulling my knees up to my chest, I turn back around to face the view that lies beyond the mountain. Underneath us - and for miles around us - all that I can witness is barren land; a territory whose soil will be moist with the blood of soldiers tomorrow. The thought has my shoulders slouching forwards, as if a boulder has been placed on them. The truth of the matter, however, is that my shoulders may not be weighed down by a tangible boulder, but they are always weighted by the burden of responsibility. After all, as a leader I am responsible for the hundreds - at times, thousands - of souls who march into battle alongside me. However, my duty doesn't just end there. I am also to be held responsible for the families and friends they leave behind, and for the innocents who we march into battle for; the ones we have to protect inside the perimeters of our lands. As if to further remind me of the reason as to why we are camped out here tonight, I feel my eyes draw towards the boundary of the barren land, and in the direction of the walls that wrap around my lands for protection from invading, enemy forces. Beyond those walls, I can view the blurry glow of lanterns and candlesticks that have not yet been put out for the night. We march into battle and spend nights like tonight, shrouded in darkness - without a single lantern to provide us with an ounce of solace, or a sliver of light to comfort us - so that those streets, and houses never have to be overshadowed by a cloud of darkness.

Once again, I hear Malhotra's boots crunch against the ground. Glancing over my shoulder, I find him lowering himself onto the ground a few feet behind me.

"What're you doing, Malhotra?" I question, an undertone of disgust creeping into my tone. "You don't always have to play the part of the brave soldier. It's perfectly alright if you're afraid of heights and wish to go back down to your tent."

"I'm not fearful of heights," Malhotra protests once again. "At least not until a certain extent," he adds in a low murmur, more to himself than for me to hear. "And I'm not out here to prove my bravery to anyone," he clarifies, louder now. "I'm here because you are. Princess, it's a steep drop and I can't have you out here all alone in case..." Malhotra trails off, but I have already understood his unsaid words. Once again, I find myself sneaking a glance at Malhotra over my shoulder. Dubiously, I stare at his face for a few seconds in an attempt to gauge his thoughts. After all, his voice rang with conviction as he uttered those words, but I've been fooled one too many times by Malhotra to merely accept whatever flows out from the tip of his tongue as the truth. In return, Malhotra locks his gaze onto mine, almost as if he's eager for me to read the truth behind his orbs.

"Will you ever be able to forgive me for what I did?" Malhotra blurts out, eyes wide. A gasp escapes my lips at the same time that his face clouds over with alarm. Both of us, it seems, are taken aback by the words that are now lingering in the night air between us. On the contrary, actually, Malhotra seems to be more taken aback by the question he's asked than I am.