I own NOTHING!!!The genius that is Libba Bray does. This is a oneshot about Amar and Virginia Doyle. Interesting pairing, I know. But I felt that this story had to be told. This story is set to the song "Escandalo" by Marc Anthony. Enjoy and Review.
I let out a long sigh. He had said five o'clock, and Amar was never late. In fact, he usually arrived twenty or so minutes before I did. Why wasn't he here now?
The streets of Bombay were alive with voices, some mirthful, some coarse. Loud shouts could be heard in Hindi, such a soothing tongue. Cattle roamed cumbersomely through the crowded alleyways as working-men made their way home from the fields just outside the city. It was the most pleasant time of day, or so I reflected. Surely Amar would agree with me. If he ever showed up, that was.
The kettle that I had put on for tea emitted steam and a loud shriek. I quickly pulled it off the fire. It made such an irritating sound. As I set about making the tea, I thought back to my first meeting with Amar five years ago.
It had been an evening much like this one, full of people bustling to their homes and families. I had been walking the streets with Gemma, my husband John, and my son, Tom. In the confusion of the evening, Gemma had been lost. A great search was made for her. John and Tom went down one street, I had gone down another.
My mind had been worked up to a panic. Terrible things happened to little girls left to wander the streets of Bombay alone. Gemma had been eleven years old and quite level-headed, but still, it was dangerous.
As I turned down a winding alleyway, I heard a child laughing, a little boy. I turned the corner to see him. He was about Gemma's age. He was thin and dark with big brown eyes. Upon seeing me,he had stepped quietly into the shadows.
I cannot say what made me draw closer. In fact, I often sit and imagine what my life would have been like had I turned my back and walked away. Then, there would have been no stolen nights with Amar, no feelings of guilt gnawing deep down in my soul. But such is life. Intrigued, I had walked down the alley. In the overhang of the crowded homes stood Gemma nonchalantly watching a man juggle fruit. She had turned to look up at me with the sort of look that only a child can master, innocent, yet manipulative. In my relief, I rushed to her and crushed her in a most unladylike embrace.
"Gemma," I admonished, "where on earth have you been? Your father and I have been worried sick!"
She turned to see the man who had been juggling. "How did you come to find my daughter?" My voice had been commanding, and rightfully so. Who was to know what this man had done?
"Ah, miss, she just came wandering this way. She looked about to cry, so my brother and I decided to cheer her up. Only juggling fruit!" he added helpfully.
I nodded. "What are your names?"
The man had smiled at me with perfect teeth and dark mysterious eyes. "My name is Amar. My little brother," he gestured at the little boy who was making Gemma laugh by doing cartwheels, "his name is Kartik."
"Do you live here?" My voice had dropped its harsh, inquisitorial tone.
"Here?" Amar had said, shocked, "of course not! We live…but how silly of me. I cannot say. It is a secret."
"Why?"
"I am in service of the Eastern Star. Perhaps this brotherhood is familiar to you." He paused, uncertain if it was safe to go on.
Well, well, a Rakshana. I hesitated, "So my daughter didn't wander here."
"No."
"Very well, tell me what you have been instructed to."
Over the course of the next few weeks, I saw quite a lot of the mysteriously attractive Amar. He would appear at my bedroom window when I was alone, or sneak up on me while I walked in the garden. To my shame, I soon came to love him. He had told me that Circe was growing powerful again. Soon she would come for me, and he swore to protect me when she did. From there, we met every few weeks, our relationship quickly going beyond mere business. Now I waited in a small hovel in Bombay's lower side, courtesy of the Rakshana. Our secret was well-kept. Not even Kartik, Amar's younger brother and confidante, knew. Gemma, of course had no idea, and I was content to keep it that way.
Interrupting my train of thought, three light taps sounded on the wooden door. Amar. I quickly rushed to let him in. As soon as the door closed, he drew me into a tender embrace.
"Good evening, memsahib."
"Good evening to you, Amar. Where have you been? I had begun to worry?" My voice did not betray half of my anxiety.
"Oh that. I was held up."
"By what pray tell, darling." I kissed him lightly on the cheek.
"My little brother was having a hard day. He is strong, and nearly a man, but sometimes I worry for him. He has been moody lately. Quiet too. I think he misses his mother. Every once in a while he gets like that. And of course, if I tell him that she is still alive, well, and filthy rich, he may just sneak off to pay her a visit and never come back." Amar's voice was thick with emotion as he spoke of Kartik.
"Poor boy," I crooned. "He seems so alone every time I see him. He doesn't suspect anything though, does he?"
"I don't think so. Then again, he doesn't think that I'd ever lie to him. I feel wretched betraying his trust."
"You should take him to see his parents, Amar. It would be good for him. And besides, he could benefit from their influence." I paused, "So you say he still misses them?"
Amar broke out into a hearty laugh. "Oh, you should have seen him when he had first left them. He cried every day, all night. He would look for mother everywhere. Needless to say, this earned himself quite a nickname with the brothers. The other boys teased him for years, still tease him, in fact." Amar laughed at the recollection. "He's grown up quite a bit though. Loves to read. Can't keep his nose out of a book. Does your Gemma like to read?"
At this I laughed sarcastically, "Not half as much as I'd like. She's grown quite testy. Every day she begs and begs to be sent to London. Of course I can't let her go there. Not yet. After Circe's been dealt with, then she and I will go together. But for now, it's just not safe." I shudder, "I hate to think of what Circe would do to her if she found her there."
"Could she go if she had protection?" Amar queried, a tinge of hesitancy in his voice.
"What kind of protection?" I frowned in mock suspicion. "You aren't thinking of deserting me for my young daughter, are you?"
"Of course not." Amar drew me closer to him. "You know that you're the only one for me, don't you?"
I smiled slightly and kissed him, "So you say."
"Hmm," Amar chuckled with his irresistible laugh, "No, the protection would be my little, or not-so-little-anymore, brother. The Rakshana have assigned him to protect Gemma with his life. In fact, it might be nice if those two got to know each other a little better." Amar smiled mysteriously. Then he added sadly, "Perhaps they would have the chance that we did not." I knew he was referring to my marriage and our love.
"I suppose it couldn't hurt," I said hesitantly. "But it will have to wait until she is sixteen. Otherwise, she won't believe any of it."
"No, you are right." Amar quietly looked around the small room. His voice was curt when he spoke again, "How is your family, your husband?"
"They are well and John is John." Amar usually asked very little about my home life. I told him even less. It pained me to voice such issues.
"That is good."
An uncommonly awkward silence ensued.
"I…"
"Did you.."
We both spoke at the same time.
"Sorry," I said, "you first."
"I went with Kartik to meet with the Elders yesterday. It was then that they assigned him to Gemma. The Rakshana have received word that Circe has entered India. She is close, Virginia, too close. It is only a matter of time before her assassin finds us. And Gemma. And Kartik." He sighed heavily with an emotion that I had come to recognize as restlessness.
"Ssshhh," I soothed. "Forget about Circe for now. You carry the burdens of so many, Amar. You worry for your brother, me, my daughter. Why can you not just….?" I faded off, uncertain of what I should say. Half of me wanted to lash out at him for always ruining our time together by mentioning Circe. The other half of me desired to take him in my arms, run my fingers through his exotic black locks, and reassure him that all would be well. In the end, I did neither of those things. Instead, I sat there silent with my hands folded gently in my lap.
Amar noticed my uncomfortable state and smiled knowingly at me. His lips seemed so inviting. I wanted nothing more than to sink into his arms and forget the day. I looked up at his eyes, those chocolate enigmas, and could not help but smile.
My show of ease seemed to relax him, for, in the next moment, he had taken me in his arms and begun to kiss my neck. I pulled myself closer to him and let my hands roam free over his toned, muscular chest. I had each depression and curve memorized. He was so perfect.
His fingers were toying with my sari (I always wore a sari when I left to meet him so that I would run less risk of being recognized), each touch thrilling me to no end. Around him, I felt myself to be quite the silly schoolgirl. And I would not have it any other way. He slipped off the weightless fabric of the sari leaving me in my corset. As he held me, my thoughts strayed back to the previous morning when John had presented me with a lovely gown from England. A pang of guilt flashed through me. John, so good and kind. John trying to teach me cricket. John lifting up our children and hoisting them onto his shoulders. Oh John! How could I betray him so?
With this thought I pulled away. I stood composedly and put on my sari. Amar was looking at me; I could feel his eyes on me. I covered my face with my veil and walked towards the door. Amar had risen, and was right behind me.
"Why Virginia?" he whispered hoarsely.
I did not answer. I couldn't trust myself to speak.
"It is because of John, isn't it? Is it because of your good, noble English husband?"
I nodded, "I'm sorry," I whispered.
"Yes, I suppose you are."
Amar's tone stung me. But how could he blame me? What else could I do? If we were discovered, John would be disgraced and our family ruined. But I loved Amar! Oh goodness, how much I loved him!
"Amar, please…" I pleaded. "Don't be so cross with me? What would you have me do?"
Amar did not speak for a very long time. In fact, the silence lapsed so long that I was beginning to think he hadn't heard me. But when he did speak, he was terse. "I am not sorry for losing you, Virginia. My only regret is that I failed to realize that I was but your plaything. I hope it will not be the same for Kartik. I swear, Virginia, if she breaks his heart, I'll make the rest of your days a nightmare. And you know I could do it too."
He reached past me and grabbed the door handle. With one last venomous look at me he murmured cooly, "Goodbye Mary Dowd." And with that he was gone.
I ran home and locked myself in my room and had a good cry.
THREE WEEKS LATER
"Circe is near." Amar's voice sounded in my ear.
My face must have turned white as a sheet, for Gemma looked at me oddly. In a seeming blur, I handed Gemma my necklace, sent her off, and traced my steps back to where I had last seen Amar. He was still there, giving instructions to his brother. I saw Kartik leave, embarking on his mission to protect Gemma.
Amar took my hand and kissed it. Then he was off. We had planned for this event. If anything were to happen, Amar and I were to travel separately to a predetermined meeting place, which in this case happened to be a small, abandoned teashop in the west end of the city. From there, Amar was to summon the local members of his brotherhood to aid us. Kartik would look after Gemma.
Circe. Sarah. My blood ran cold. Fifteen minutes later, I had reached the shop. I was just in time to see Amar enter the building. I dashed in after him and nearly screamed when I was stopped short by the sight of him face to face with Circe's assassin. He was consumed instantly.
I gasped. There was no hope for me with him gone. I cried out in anguish. It was then that I saw his dagger lying useless on the floor. In that moment, I knew what I had to do. And I did it.
I am dead. Dead but still breathing. I am in the Realms. Amar is here too. I only wish I knew where. Perhaps he is in the Winterlands. Perhaps he has crossed. I have no way of knowing. But for now, I wait for the words of forgiveness to set me free. Then I will find Amar and the forbidden love of our past life will be forever in eternity.
How was it? I promptly edited the end of the chapter when I found out from LunaEquus that Amar has not crossed and will appear in the third book. (Thanks so much Luna! ) Was this pairing believable? If not, why? and, if so, was it well-done? PlEASE REVIEW! I am desperate for feed back!