A/N: This is written for fun, and is fairly experimental. My "research" amounts to stuff I've seen my parents and grandparents do and vague memories of comic books of Indian history I read when I was a kid – so please bear in mind that this story is almost certainly full of anachronisms, extremely creative license and convenient plot devices thinly disguised as cultural customs. Therefore please read it in the spirit in which it was intended – as a loosely-based, hopefully fun take on Emma rather than a history lesson.
Now for some (I would say "trivia", but that would imply that it's 100% factual and I'm not sure that it is) stuff to help you understand the story better. The method by which princesses pick their future husband by garlanding one suitor sitting among rows of them is actually something that happened (based on more than one incidence in my history/mythology comic books). It's one among several bizarre practices such as setting archery competitions whereby the best archer won the hand of the princess, etc. She apparently gets little or no say in it; extremely conveniently, the guy who 'wins' her or whom she picks to garland is usually the hero of the story.
Exchanging garlands is part of the Hindu marriage ceremony, and I think it's after the garlands are exchanged that the couple is really considered married. Garlanding someone in the context of picking them as your future spouse probably has some of this significance – it probably officially makes them your fiancé; note that this is conjecture on my part. Basically, garlands = something to do with marriage.
Mehendi is the Hindi word for henna, which is applied in extremely elaborate patterns on a bride's hands and arms (and feet, I think) a day or two before her wedding. Thus on her wedding day she will have this dark red pattern on her arms, hands and feet. Not sure of the origin or purpose for this practice, but it looks really pretty.
About the time period this is supposed to be set in – it's definitely pre-British rule of India when the country was divided up into heaps of little kingdoms, but beyond that I'm not really sure. Centuries ago, though.
So... despite the guesswork, possible anachronisms and slight suspension of disbelief required, hope you enjoy it – please tell me what you think, as always! Kudos to those who get the Austen reference in the title.
Love and Friendship
'From family attachment and habit, and thorough excellence of mind, he had loved her and watched over her from a girl, with an endeavour to improve her and an anxiety for her doing right which no other creature had at all shared.'
- "Emma", pg. 330
Chapter One
She remembered once, long ago, how she sat by her sister while the mehendi was being applied. It was the night before her wedding, and they had seemingly both secretly decided that they would take this time to be giggly and airy so that they did not have to think about their separation.
'How did you know?' she asked her. 'How could you be certain that he was the one?'
Her sister's eyes grew dreamy. 'I just knew,' she said, 'as soon as I saw him.' For her at least, leaving her home was the single minor drawback of the change her life was about to undergo.
The younger girl was not so fortunate. She was losing a sister, mother, playmate and friend all in one, although she was valiantly trying not to show it. 'Just like that?' she said, sceptically. 'After just seeing him among a row of all the others?'
Her sister giggled. 'Yes. I could tell all the others thought I would be doing myself a favour if I chose them. He, on the other hand...' She smiled fondly. '...he looked so nervous, and when he looked at me, I could tell he was petrified I might choose someone else. He was the only one who actually cared.' Then she laughed outright. 'He looked as if he might faint from relief when I placed the garland around his neck.'
The younger girl was still sceptical, but she said no more.
After that conversation with her sister, she had been telling her friend about it while he had been grooming the horses. She was perched on the edge of the stall in which he was working, legs swinging. As she talked he had nodded and made noises of agreement in the right places, and indeed, continued to do so even after she had ceased speaking.
She narrowed her eyes. 'Have you even been listening to me?'
He started, guiltily. 'Of course.'
'What did I say then?'
He thought for a moment. 'That it's unfair that people don't just let you rule the world?'
She tried not to smile. 'Very funny.' Then she wrinkled her nose as she regarded him. He looked hot, dirty and sweaty. 'Why do you even do all this? Why can't you just let the stable boys do their job?'
He looked over at her, seriously. 'If I'm going to be leading an army on horses some day, I should know how to care for them. And there is absolutely no shame in physical labour.'
She had to laugh at that. 'No shame in being seen like this?'
'At least I'm seen to be doing something useful – more than I ever see you doing.'
If it had been anyone else saying that to her, they would have found themselves in the dungeons for a day, but since it was him, she only rolled her eyes. 'Excuse me, but I am going to be ruling this kingdom one day – I'd say that's useful, even by your standards.'
He laughed. 'You won't rule the kingdom – you'll marry some fool after seeing him once, gazing into his eyes and knowing he's the one for you, and then he'll take over, if your new brother-in-law won't already.'
She smiled, pleased that he had been listening after all, but then she set him right on several matters. 'My new brother,' she said loftily, 'has his own kingdom to look after, and as I am never going to marry, I will be the sole ruler of this kingdom.'
He raised an eyebrow, amused. 'And your lineage will continue... how?'
She waved a hand dismissively. 'I'm sure my sister can spare one of my future nephews or nieces.'
As the years passed, much had changed. Her friend was now the general that his father had been before him and did indeed command the armies he had spoken of. Her sister was the happy mother of several children, although living too far for more than an annual visit. Her father was on his deathbed, and his last wish was that she would marry before he died, would marry someone he knew he could entrust his kingdom to.
And that was how the sceptical girl – though of age and really no longer a girl – sad-eyed and serious, acquiesced to the scheme, though with no real hope that she would meet the eyes of a stranger and know they were destined for one another. She was not the sort of person to form such an attachment – she did not love anyone easily; it took her time, though once she did, she was not fickle in her affections. Most of the few friends she made were lifelong.
Before she had finally agreed to oblige her father, she had spoken to her friend, asked his advice, almost desperate for some way out of her predicament, hoping he might take her side. However, he did not. He had looked grave and uncomfortable, but had told her in no uncertain terms that he thought it her duty to follow her father's last wishes.
She had looked up into his eyes and smiled a small, sad smile. 'Very well,' she had said, because she trusted his judgment above all others'.
And that was how she found herself decked in some of her best clothes in the grand hall, walking slowly among the rows of suitors, princes and kings from kingdoms far and wide. She had seen everyone, and had walked the full length of the hall twice without making her choice. She had not seen anyone she thought she could happily spend even an hour with, let alone the rest of her life.
Just then a movement caught her eye, and she saw one of the men – he was young and handsome – shift uncomfortably in his chair. She noticed that he seemed unable or unwilling to look at her, and was fidgeting with his cuff. Her sister's husband had been afraid that she would pick someone else, had he not? Did that mean that this young man was the one for her?
She slowed her pace in front of him, and he turned pale. The suspense was obviously affecting him, and he seemed the only one out of the potential suitors who looked like he might stand to lose more than the wealth of her kingdom and the trophy of a wife of her famed beauty. If he was the suitor in love with her, then surely it would constitute her best chance of happiness to reward him with her hand?
And yet she hesitated for a moment, the garland in her hands. She looked over to the front of the hall where her friend was standing, watching the proceedings with a grave face, no doubt in order to inform her father of her choice as soon as she made it. When she caught his eye, full of doubt, he gave her a rather strained smile which was perhaps meant to be encouraging, and she sighed and placed the garland around the neck of the man in front of her, sealing the fates of both.
Her father approved of her choice, and passed away soon afterwards in the company of the two apart from his elder daughter who were dearest to him: herself and her friend. She had not been close to her father for several years, and had indeed been a little afraid of him; sometimes the weight of his expectations had been felt to be just a little too heavy for her, and the memories of being his little girl, of having him delight in each new discovery or achievement or wonder of hers were blurred by time. But for those few brief moments, she felt as if they had made that connection once more. She only grieved that it took such circumstances to bring them back to one another.
In a quiet moment, her friend came up to speak to her. 'So?' he asked, eyebrow raised. 'Did you look into his eyes and know he was the one for you?' Perhaps she was imagining it, but his teasing sounded a little forced.
It only took her a moment to realise why. She knew that he was trying to hide his true concern for her future behind a laughing mask, and she could have kissed him for it. Still, it was the least she could do to put his mind at ease. 'I suppose so,' she said after a moment of thought. 'Like my sister.' Like her sister, she had picked the man who had looked terrified that he might not be chosen. It did not follow that he was necessarily her true love, but she would not worry her friend by admitting that. 'I think he is the one for me,' she said, more confidently than she felt.
It took her friend a moment to smile. 'That's... that's wonderful. Truly.' For a moment he was silent. Then, looking very serious, he said, 'You deserve all the happiness in the world; and I hope he gives it to you.'
He looked so solemn that for a moment she was tempted to make some teasing, playful reply to lighten his expression, but then it did not seem right when he was so much in earnest. 'Thank you,' she said quietly, instead.