ps: unlike in the serial, in this one shot, Jodha was already aware she was to marry Jalal. that being said, let's get into it. 

edit: Jalal's POV can be read on the next page

The sound of sure and steady footsteps was enough to wake her up from the slumber she had fallen into. While not a light sleeper herself, being a Rajkumari with some intermediate knowledge of defence was enough to instil alertness in her.

That, and the fact that she was in Mughal territory. She may be a recent bride to their Shehenshah but she was not so naive to think they'd accept her readily, for obvious reasons.

For one, she hadn't missed the venomous look Maham Anga had shot her during the ceremony even as the middle-aged woman had tied the taweez around her upper arm, claiming that it was to ward off bad omens.

You are the bad omen, she had wanted to retort but the future of Amer was at stake then and there. She could not afford to endanger her homeland just because she wanted to get the last word. So, Jodha had chosen that moment to bridle her tongue.

She let out a trembling sigh as she found herself praying to Kanha. She knew what she was getting into the moment Bhapusa had walked into her chambers with a look of dejection.

She had accepted her fate - the fact that she was the sacrificial lamb for Amer's existence. She didn't bother protesting although she wished it was not so but Amer meant more to her than her happiness and if she was to lose her life to save her homeland, why not?

The sounds of the footsteps drawing nearer to her bed was enough to bring her back to the present. Whoever had breached into her tent was almost close and her hand discreetly slipped under her pillow to feel the cold jewels on the hilt of the dagger Bhaisa had gifted her.

Jodha felt the bed dip and she drew the dagger closer to herself, her heart pounding against her rib cage as her grip on the hilt tightened.

Without wasting any further time, her right hand holding the dagger shot out to attack whoever it was only for it to be blocked by their hand.

Her eyes could only widen when she came face-to-face with her unexpected visitor. The world seemed to stop as soon as she saw that glare across his face and her grip loosened.

His grip on the blade, however, tightened to the point she could see thick crimson. The sight of blood was more of an effective reminder of the man she was now married to, in case she had somehow forgotten.

Even more than ever, his presence in her tent was a reminder of how she had refused his request, more like an order, for her to sing in his court.

Was he here to-?

The sound of the dagger hitting the floor broke her out of her thoughts and she looked up at him, a twisted grin on his face as if he was impressed that she'd dare pull up a dagger at him.

But then, I also held a sword at his neck.

To be fair, she had no idea it was him as he had managed to breach Amer's security, taking the disguise of a Rajput soldier.

If she had known it was him, maybe she wouldn't be here in this tent within proximity to this jallad. To make things worse, he drew even closer towards her, his chest almost touching hers.

Some personal space, if you don't mind.

Yet, she maintained her composure, putting on a cool mask as his cold hazel eyes scanned her face.

"I summoned you into my court to sing, yet you refused my request," he started, his voice so dangerously low that her skin broke into goosebumps. "Have you forgotten I am your husband? Your vows before the holy fire? Have you forgotten your duties as my wife?"

She sat silently, noting how his anger punctuated every word he let out. She knew her silence was pushing him over the edge as he mentioned how she was already failing her wifely duties.

That tongue she had managed to hold since the wedding was ready to lash out yet she was not ready to fan the flames of his fury.

He was the one to talk about her wifely duties yet he was the one who chose to summon her like she was a common courtesan here to entertain his courtiers.

If he was going to bring up her wifely duties, then she'd remind him of his obligations to her as her husband.

"Yes, you are my husband," she replied as calmly as she could manage to be. "And, yes, I remember the vows I made before the fire."

Her eyes sparked fiercely with fire now but she kept her tone as cool as possible.

"But no religion allows a man to treat his wife as a maid or force his will on her," she continued. watching as his glare gave way to a sardonic smile. "My wedding vows are not a permit for you to treat me like a courtesan whose purpose is to entertain the members of your court. For a man, his wife's honour takes priority over his own wishes."

At the end of her speech, a chuckle escaped Jalal and if not for their close proximity, he'd probably have broken into a sarcastic applause. He was that unpredictable of a man.

"Well said," his voice dripped with sarcasm. "I came to you with a complaint yet you manage to make me the guilty one."

Somehow, he had gotten closer to her and she swallowed. A huge mistake on her part as she gave away her fear of him.

Soon, his countenance was back to that glare, "you stare at me in fear and apprehension of what my next move would be...I like that."

Her eyes fluttered shut at that as her heart rate doubled. Oh Kanha, what monster had she gotten married to? A man who delighted in her fear of him?

"You should be scared," he smirked, finally moving away from her and she could finally let out a shaky sigh of relief as soon as she opened her eyes to see his feet back on the floor.

His eyes stared at the discarded dagger which lay on the floor of the tent before staring back at her. The intensity of this gaze had her squeezing the material of her dupatta. He was right about her apprehension of his next moves.

"You won't need that dagger to protect you next time. I will shield you from every danger that threatens to harm you," that was almost heartwarming. "But no one, no one, Jodha Begum, will be there to save you from me."

With that, he left her tent and only then could Jodha pull herself together. No matter how sweet that statement had started, the final part was enough to rattle her.

He hadn't even bothered to sugarcoat it, it was a threat - no, a promise - of what was to come for her the moment she stepped into Agra as one of his many begums.

Indeed, no one would save her from him if everyone in Agra was like him. Even then, who would dare stand up to him? Of all men? He was the shehenshah after all.

She could only gaze at the idol of Krishna on the opposite end as she silently said her prayer.

Give me strength, Kanha.