here comes the sun
it is the brightest star of them all
and will never fall from the sky

- sonne (translated) by rammstein

hier kommt die sonne
sie ist der hellste stern von allen
und wird nie vom himmel fallen

sonne by rammstein

opening notes: this chapter was one of the chapters I anticipated drafting when I first made the outlines. I'm so glad to finally draft and post this for reading.

Word spread quickly around the palace, spreading rampantly across every corner of the harem like an uncontrollable wildfire and reaching Sharifuddin's doorsteps.

His hands clasped behind his back, a scowl marred his face as palpable rage filled him at the news delivered to him. Bakshi had walked in, tearful and trembling, blissfully unaware of the thinly veiled frustration which marked Sharifuddin's expression.

That man refused to die, Sharifuddin seethed under his breath immediately, and Bakshi exited their hojra. His teeth ground together, and despite his palpable rage, a smug grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

Jalal might be alive but his life hung on a balance, each second dragging like a slow-swinging pendulum between life and death. And this realization brought inexplicable delight to Sharifuddin who anticipated the minute the Shehenshah would finally succumb to his injuries and pave the way to Sharifuddin's ambitions.

It is only a matter of time, he shut his eyes at the thought. Finally, his plans and his goals were about to be fulfilled. His train of thought was however interrupted by the sounds of footsteps approaching. Adham Khan strolled into his hojra with a smug expression on his face.

He wordlessly greeted him before finding his seat and reclining against his divan. A blend of fury and curiosity filled Sharifuddin at the sight of Adham pouring himself a cup of sura.

It was barely sunset and the oaf dared to help himself to some alcohol.

"Well?" he asked sharply, his eyes narrowing at Adham who took his time savouring the wine.

"Word has it that the shahi hakim has sent for the hakim at Gwalior." He stated. "It seems that the key to Jalal's survival lies in this physician's hands, Sharifuddin."

"Gwalior?" Interesting, Sharifuddin mused as his smirk deepened and darkened. "So, Jalal's life lies in the hands of one man. It means his reign and legacy ends here, Adham Khan. With him out of our way-."

"As we speak, Sharifuddin," Adham cut in amid his words. "A messenger has been dispatched to Gwalior. Do you know what that means?" He maintained eye contact even as he brought the cup to his lips.

The implications were obvious and Sharifuddin let out a growl of frustration. This hakim from Gwalior held the key to Jalal's survival and should the man reach Agra...Sharifuddin clenched his fist so hard to the point his knuckles paled. It meant his plans would be all for nothing.

It seemed Adham was not done, his tone evolving into bitterness as he continued. "We might also be compromised. Malika-e-Azaam has ordered an investigation and should she find out one of your men had replaced Jalal's weapons with duds..."

Ya Khuda, Sharifuddin swore as he processed this. His eyes narrowed as his mind began devising plans.

"We must ensure none of these come to fruition," Sharifuddin said. "That hakim must not step a foot into Agra and I will ensure my informant does not let out even a single word."

Chuckling, Adham slammed his cup down on the end table as he stood to his height. "I have some men who will take care of the messenger." He mentioned in a disturbingly casual tone as if he was discussing the weather. "The roads hide different dangers and anything can happen: dacoits, wild beasts, you name it. Gwalior is such a long route and travellers might..." He paused for a dramatic effect. "Just disappear. Things do go wrong."

The men exchanged conspiratorial glances at that, their minds simultaneously running through with a shared interest in their devious scheming. "We must act fast," Sharifuddin ordered. "You send your men to intercept the messenger and make the job clean and rapid so it doesn't leave any trail leading back to us."

"Consider it done," Adham nodded reassuringly with a mock bow. "And you, Sharifuddin? What do you plan to do"

A sinister smile flashed on Sharifuddin's face as he turned to view Adham. "I will handle my informant."

Adham laughed, a cruel sound echoing off the walls of the room. Sharifuddin maintained his menacing smile as his mind created multiple schemes on how he would deal with his insider. If there was one thing he learned, it was the fragility of alliances and that he could not afford loose ends.

From the privacy of her chambers, rest stayed the furthest thing from Jodha's mind. Instead, it became a luxury she simply could not afford. How could she rest when, in the next chamber, Jalal's life remained in danger?

As a result, here she was, her hands working on a medicinal paste she had learned from the vaidyas back in Amer. The scent of turmeric and amla filled the room as Jodha effectively measured the ingredients before grinding them into a fine powder and mixing them with water.

They might not work to fully counter the effects of the poison but hell would have to freeze over before she'd spend an extra second sitting idly within the four walls of this chamber while Jalal towed the line between life and death in the next. The herbs, at least, would help prevent any further bleeding until the hakim from Gwalior arrived.

She had just finished preparing the paste when Ammi Jaan walked in with Maham Anga and Begum Ruqaiya in tow. Standing in respect, she greeted the three women with the two of them only dignifying her with a response: Ammi Jaan gently acknowledging her and Begum Ruqaiya formerly greeting her with the taslim. Maham Anga, on the other hand, wrinkled her nose in suspicion as her eyes fell upon the medicinal paste.

"What is that?" She questioned, her tone clipped as she regarded her with a look of suspicion and disdain. Ammi Jaan's focus curiously veered to the mortar as well.

Jodha fought to suppress the surge of anger that brimmed as a result of Maham's interrogation. It was no secret by now that the older white-veiled woman hated her but her insinuating that she had something to do with Jalal's current predicament further cemented that fact.

Even now, Maham's eyes bored into the medicinal paste, viewing it as if it was poison itself.

"It is medicine, I have-."

"Medicine?" Begum Ruqaiya interjected as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her tone was just as sharp as Maham's. "What do you know about medicine, Begum Jodha? How do we know that this will work and not further complicate issues?"

Maham, ever swift to cast a vote of non-confidence when it came to her, chimed in as well, "Haan, we cannot afford to trust any concoction from a naive little girl especially when Shehenshah's life hangs on a thread. Besides, how do we know that this concoction does not contain a sort of lethal poison?"

Jodha's eyes flashed with rage and hurt with Ammi Jaan swiftly turning to Maham Anga in disbelief. Even Begum Ruqaiya was taken aback as she stared back at Maham Anga.

"I know my work, Maham Anga Ji," she replied with unwavering conviction. "I have studied Ayurvedic medicine under the vigilant eyes of Amer's best vaidyas and I swear to you that this is no random experiment in the wild. I have seen this paste work several times; it will help in preventing further bleeding until the hakim arrives."

Still, it did nothing to quell Maham's suspicion as her steely gaze lingered on her. "Yet, You expect us to believe you, Begum Jodha? You have always been at odds with Shehenshah from the beginning yet here you are..."

Jodha's eyes watered at the insinuation, her hands trembling as she clenched her fists; she had come to expect this, except that Maham did not bother to dress her accusations in subtle implications anymore.

Before she could further respond, Ammi Jaan intervened on her behalf. "That is enough, Maham Anga," she stepped in, sending a stern look to the white veiled woman before calling one of her bandhis into the chamber. "Faizat, get me the shahi hakim."

It was a matter of time before the elderly man came in, his posture bowed in deference to the women. "Adaab, Begum Sahiba, Wazir-e-Aliya, You summoned me."

Ammi Jaan picked up the paste, passing it over to the man. "Hakim sahib, please, examine this paste. Begum Jodha prepared this and we need your confirmation."

The man took the mortar, staring down at the paste with clinical observation. The room fell silent as the man wafted the scent of the medicine before dipping his fingers to feel the consistency. Jodha held her breath for a moment, her heart rate accelerating as she awaited his judgment.

After a moment, the man exclaimed, "Subhanallah, Begum Jodha, this medicine is indeed well-prepared." Then, he turned his attention to Ammi Jaan. "The herbs used are known for their healing properties, Malika-e-Azaam. However, I cannot guarantee that this will fully cure Shehenshah but this will greatly help in stopping the bleeding. It might come with its side effects but they are as rare as they come."

With expressed gratitude, Ammi Jaan nodded and the hakim left the hojra for Jalal's. Maham's lips pursed into a thin line, her mind broiling in rage. Paying her respect, she turned on her heel.

Begum Ruqaiya, on the other hand, still viewed her with suspicion despite the hakim's confirmation. "You had better pray that your medicine works, Begum Jodha, or else..." She left the rest of her words hanging before also making her exit.

Ammi Jaan made her way over, her arms around her as she consoled her. "Mujhe maaf kar do, Bete. You do not deserve any of these accusations."

Jodha gave a numb nod, a pang of bitterness and hurt hit her squarely in the chest. It seemed that regardless of her genuine concern, she would have to constantly prove herself before the court.

"It is nothing, Ammi Jaan." She added with a tight-lipped smile. "All that matters is Shehenshah's recovery and I will do everything in my power to ensure that."

A beam of happiness lit up Ammi Jaan's face. "Shukriya, Bete, Allah aap ko khush rakhe."

Jodha nodded with a silent prayer in her mind as she pleaded to Kanha on Jalal's behalf.

His journey from Gwalior to Agra had been smooth for the most part, aside from an interesting but dangerous encounter he had happened to witness on his way.

The moment one of his apprentices had rushed in with a message he claimed was from Agra, the old man spared no hesitation as he packed his satchels with the vials, jars and herbs essential for his work.

Once he was done with his preparations, he mounted the horse provided by the messenger, flanked by two of his apprentices following behind him on foot.

Taking the quickest route, as directed by the messenger, they embarked on a pathway surrounded by dense forests.

They had not ventured that far when a group of men, all draped in the imperial uniform, emerged from the thicket with their swords glinting as they held it up. Such an experience would have proven fear-inducing as the leader barked at him. "Hold it right there! What do you carry with you?"

The hakim and the messenger halted their houses upon their command and the older man studied the group impassively. Having lived a long life, the hakim could tell these men were up to no good. He had witnessed such incidents where mercenaries would dress up as soldiers and poise themselves strategically to carry out their nefarious acts of preventing aid from being delivered to the royals or nobles within the city.

Calmly, he assessed this group: they were all poorly coordinated men who were more brawn than brain. "I carry with me medicinal herbs and spices," he replied which had the leader walking up to him.

"Let me have them," he commanded and the hakim, feigning compliance reached out for a pouch. The messenger beside him stared in panic but with a look of assurance from the hakim, he kept his composure.

Because of events like this, the older man had made it a habit of his to carry two pouches: one with the actual antidotes and another with imitations with the pouches kept in different locations. Such a strategy always worked for him each time he needed to travel from Gwalior to neighbouring regions.

The leader, not bothering to make any further inspection, simply pocketed the pouch with another man piping up. "What do we do next?"

"What now?" The leader rendered him a glare. "What do you think-?!" As if things could not get more bizarre, the mercenaries began to bicker among themselves about who was the leader.

The older man only raised an eyebrow as he tailed behind the messenger who had discreetly bypassed the soldiers and taken an alternate path without drawing the attention of the men. The journey from Gwalior to Agra spanned a day and, aside from that one incident, held no further complications.

He met a contrasting scene between the outskirts which were uncharacteristically bustling as if their leader was not battling for his life and the mahal which had a sombber cloud of despair hanging over him. It was then he realized that the palace had chosen to keep this a secret from the public.

Atgah Khan, one of the ministers on Shehenshah's court, was the first to greet him in taslim as he wasted no time in directing him to the Shehenshah's chamber.

"Huzoor, I encountered something strange while making my way-."

"Gustakhi maaf, Hakim Sahab, time is of the essence as Shehenshah's life hangs on the balance." Atgah Khan cut in, his tone was apologetic but firm. "Once things are resolved, I assure you, I will ensure your concerns get addressed."

He nodded as he understood the urgency, following the minister into the Khaas Mahal. He was met with a small crowd of people: Malika-e-Azaam, Wazir-e-Aliya and a face he could recognize despite his old age. They stood anxiously, with varying expressions conveying hope and relief at his arrival.

Stepping into the chamber, he acknowledged them with a greeting before getting straight to work. He wasted no time as he examined the unconscious emperor, from his pale skin to the wound on his clavicle to the faint pulse.

Without hesitation, he prepared the antidote he had brought with him from Gwalior before administering it. As the antidote took its effect, he caught sight of a small mortar nearby with its contents partially used.

His eyes lit up in recognition of what it was - a turmeric-amla paste. "Who prepared this?" He asked softly as he lingered on the medicine.

"I did." That familiar face stepped out, her posture in a polite demeanour as she clasped her hands together.

A gentle smile lit up his face as he nodded in approval. "This was well-made, Rajkumari Jodha Bai." He noted when the room went into a murmur of surprise at his familiarity with her identity. "Turmeric to prevent infection and inflammation, amla to bolster the body's defence mechanisms. Your quick thinking has helped prevent further damage from the poison."

Malika-e-Azaam stood amazed, stepping forward, equally surprised and impressed. "Have you happened to meet Begum Jodha before today, hakim sahab?"

The older man turned to her, his smile unwavering. "Many years ago, Begum Sahiba, I had travelled to Amer and during my stay in the kingdom, I remember teaching a group of royal women Ayurvedic medicine." He turned to her, a note of pride in his expression. "The then-Rajkumari Jodha Bai was among them - and an exceptional student."

The younger woman blinked in surprise, her face fixed as if trying to place a face to him. "I remember you." She muttered as the realization dawned on her.

"Your knowledge has proven invaluable in buying enough time for Shehenshah and I hope you continue to keep up at this, Begum Jodha Bai."

"Khuda ka shukriya," Malika-e-Azaam held out her hands in prayer. "He has sent us Begum Jodha and ensured her efforts do not end in vain." Then, she turned to him. "Shukriya, Hakim Sahab, words are not enough to describe my appreciation."

The hakim observed the look of disdain the Wazir-e-Aliya had on her face at the compliment and he frowned to himself. Interesting, he slightly narrowed his eyes but chose not to comment.

He then nodded to acknowledge Malika-e-Azaam before turning his attention to Shehenshah whose symptoms started to impressively improve. The antidote was already working. "It will take time for the poison to be out of his system, Begum Sahiba but Shehenshah's pulse is stabilizing which is good news. I will spend a few more days monitoring his progress."

Relief swept through the room before Malika-e-Azaam requested the guards show him his chamber. Still, as the hakim made his way to his designated hojra, his thoughts lingered on the ambush he had encountered on his way here, wondering who had specifically sent those mercenaries. Was he the target - or was it the aid he was to render the Shehenshah?

A haze of limbo had fallen over him blurring the line between when he had succumbed to the darkness and his current state. His body felt heated, his head throbbed that even a single thought felt like shards of glass piercing through his skull and a dull ache radiated through his clavicle.

Was he dead? He thought, his eyes slowly opening only for him to shut them just as fast. Even the dim light of the dawn seared his vision as if he were staring directly at the sun. How long had he been out? How did he end up here?

His senses, which were typically fast to respond to his environment, dimmed as the world around him became distant. Memories slowly rushed in - memories of him and Jodha Begum in the Basawad jungle, her fiercely berating his choice to go on a hunt immediately after their pilgrimage, their conversation transitioning into Qutb Ibrahim's blessings, the ambush in the jungle, the poisoned arrow hitting him and...

This place felt familiar - the soft surface he lay on engulfed his weakened body and slowly, his ears picked up the sound of water drops. The scent of herbs mingled in the air, soothing his pain and weariness and his heated body cooled the moment he felt a wet cloth gently press on his forehead. Instinctively, he turned his head as if pleading for that relieving sensation to remain.

His eyes slowly opened again, his vision blurring as he could make out a feminine figure. As his vision took its time to focus, he could note the lack of jewelry and the distinct attire she had on. Even without her luxurious lehenga choli, she never failed to command his attention.

She turned to him again with the cloth in her hand, about to press it to his forehead when she froze at the sight of him awake. A flicker of surprise flashed in her dark eyes as she came face-to-face with him. "Shehenshah," she whispered and another wave of warmth, different from his feverish heat, passed through him.

His mind was still yet to reach the point of passing a coherent thought but that did not stop his voice from hoarsely breaking the silence. "Jodha...Begum..." Her name tasted foreign yet familiar on his tongue.

He strained himself to let out another word but his head throbbed with the room starting to spin again. He parted his lips again, hoping to say something to her - anything - but despite his will to fight back that incoherence, the darkness seemed to overpower him as he slipped back into unconsciousness that dragged him into its depths and the world faded back to black.

It would seem that minutes or hours passed as Jalal awoke again, this time, the oppressive fog that clouded his mind finally cleared and the sharp pain in his head faded into a dull ache. His body felt less heavy and his body temperature subsided to a steady decline.

He felt a soft hand slowly trace his features and his head turned to the direction. "Jodha Begum," he murmured as his eyes cracked open. To his disappointment, however, the face that came to meet him was none other than Ruqaiya's.

It was a blink-and-you-miss-it moment when her facial expression evolved from something unreadable to this soft look on her features.

"Ruqaiya," he rasped as he attempted to sit up. He blinked, disoriented as he tried to gather his thoughts. Had his vision of Jodha Begum been a hallucination induced by his feverish mind?

He frowned as Ruqaiya placed her hands on his shoulders gently, her face devoid of her playful demeanour or the anger she had displayed days before his journey to Ajmer Sharif. Instead, it softened with relief written on her face.

"Jalal." her lips trembled as she ran her fingers to feel his face. "I thought...I almost lost you. I don't know what I would have done if...," her voice broke as she leaned forward, her hands tracing his face as if reassuring herself of his presence.

He nodded weakly, his eyes flickering between her and the space Jodha had occupied hours ago. "What happened?" He asked, his voice hoarse. Had Jodha Begum brought him to Agra that night? How had she done that?

"You were shot by a poisoned arrow, Jalal," she answered his question before hesitating for a moment as if struggling with the decision to reveal more than what she let on. "But the hakim from Gwalior came in time to administer the antidote. And...Begum Jodha..." She trailed off.

"What about Jodha? Is she...?" His gaze flickered to the doorway as if expecting her to appear at the entrance before focusing on Ruqaiya.

Her expression stiffened, a distant look forming before she quickly blinked, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "She was here earlier," she responded, her tone betraying an emotion she fought to keep hidden from him. "She left for her khwabagh the moment the hakim arrived."

So, his eyes hadn't deceived him after all. He let out a sigh, exhaustion catching up with him. Turning his head to the side, his eyes caught sight of a mortar set aside on the end table beside his bed.

"B-Begum Jodha," Ruqaiya answered his unspoken question, initially hesitant. "Made the medicine while you were unconscious; it helped stop the bleeding and prevent the poison from causing more damage," she added.

Wordlessly, Jalal sighed with a small unnoticeable smile on his face. What more was he going to discover about Jodha Begum? She continued to surprise him in ways he could not have anticipated.

The moment Jalal faded back into unconsciousness, Jodha was quick to call for the hakim who rushed in with Begum Ruqaiya and Ammi Jaan to monitor his progress.

The old man noted his observations, stating that it was nothing to worry about as it would take time for Jalal to recover from the days he had been unconscious, which was three days.

Ammi Jaan, upon hearing this, chose that moment to accompany her back to her hojra. The women of the harem rejoiced at the news of Shehenshah's recovery, terming it an answer to their prayers.

Eventually reaching her chambers, Jodha was met by Moti and Reva. The two women were elated to see their mistress and best friend. Reva held close to her a puja thali, passing it over to her.

At the far end stood Kanha's murti, the idol staying as serene as possible while holding his bansuri to his lips. Around his murti were the diyas which filled the room with the soft glow of their light.

"They have not gone out not even once while I was away," she said softly, her heart warming at the sight. Turning to the two women, she collected the puja thali from Reva. "Dhanyavaad," she muttered in appreciation. "Thank you for keeping the diyas lit during my absence."

Kneeling before the mandir, she held the thali away from her, preparing for puja before she was joined by her dasis.

"Jodha," Reva stepped in. "We only prepared the puja thali but Malika-e-Azaam ensured the diyas remained alight while you were absent."

Pausing for a moment, Jodha let the words settle as she stared at the lit diyas. Ammi Jaan had kept the lamps lit in her absence? A warm beam lit up on her face at the information. She did not expect that the older woman would take it upon herself to light the lamps in her abscence.

Without any further ado, she commenced the puja, her lips moving as she chanted the familiar prayers softly. Yet, as she prayed, her mind kept on drifting to the few days that had passed when she and Jalal had walked through the dense, mist-covered Basawad jungle.

How could she forget the way he shielded her from the arrow - and twice at that? The first time, she had been incensed that he'd cut her off and dared encroach on her boundaries; the second time, he had laid down his very life to save hers.

It felt like she was still back there navigating her way through the densely thick and foggy forest. Vulnerability seeped through his strained words and struck deeper than a dagger.

"Perhaps..., it is a price one must pay...to maintain control."

Was it possible that something had shifted? Jodha frowned as her mind tumbled in disarray. On one hand her relationship with Jalal remained strained, each step a precarious swing between fleeting reconciliation and misunderstanding and on the other hand was the man who had bared his soul to her, even if it was unintentional on his part. Could their relationship possibly evolve beyond the bitterness which came to define them for so long?

Even with her prayers concluded, she remained kneeling before Kanha and deep in her thoughts until her ears picked up the soft rustle of fabric. Turning, she was met with none other than Ammi Jaan, the woman greeting her in taslim.

Jodha stood to her height as well in reciprocal. "Pranaam, Ammi Jaan," she slightly bowed in reverence before resting her hands at her sides.

The older woman approached, also acknowledging Moti and Reva, with a bundle in her hands. It appeared wrapped in a light olive green velvet fabric with gold tassels bordering the cloth.

"Shukriya, Ammi Jaan," she started. "I am aware that you had kept the diyas light while I was away and for that, I am grateful, Ammi Jaan."

Ammi Jaan only smiled, relief and gratitude reflecting in her eyes. "Nahi, Bete, I should be the one thanking you," she countered, the words causing Jodha to slightly shake her head but Ammi Jaan was not having any of that. "Not only did you accompany Jalal to Ajmer Sharif but you also saved his life and for that, I am eternally grateful."

Shaking her head again, Jodha took measured steps, standing in front of Ammi Jaan. "I only did what was right, Ammi Jaan. I am thankful that Shehenshah has recovered now."

The older woman's eyes brimmed as her face lit up. "Khuda brought you into our lives to bless us, Bete," she said softly as she extended the bundle toward Jodha. "Here... this is for you."

Her hands trembled as she accepted the gift, slowly unwrapping it to be met with a beautifully bound Quran which had its cover intricately decorated in gold patterns and beautiful calligraphy.

Lost in words, Jodha looked up from the Quran, her voice trembling as she sought for the right words to say. "I... I am honored, Ammi Jaan."

The older woman nodded again in acknowledgement. "Just as the Gita is sacred to the Hindus, Bete, the Quran is a source of guidance to us Muslims. May it serve as a source of guidance to you too. You have been sent to us by Khuda for a reason and I pray He continues to bless you and grant you the wishes of your heart."

Jodha's smile widened, her heart swelling with gratitude, as Ammi Jaan left her hojra. Cradling the Quran to her chest, she was left in contemplation before taking a glance back at Kanha's murti. He beamed back at her and a sense of calm befell her.

closing notes: someone on the forums once said that the shahi hakim doesn't know his work because of how he was too quick to administer the paste to Jalal without testing how effective it would be and, look, I agree. how can you be a healer and just slap anything on a person without gauging it and then give a surprised Pikachu face when it comes with side effects? 😭🙏🏾