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thirst4light · 10 months

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In Memoriam

This is my first try at Vanmozhi Fanfiction. Inspired from the PS 2 movie scene. Planning to do a two part follow-up of this prologue. Let me know what you think!

Prologue

'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.’ (In Memoriam A. H. H., 27.13-17)

The sky of Thanjavur was strangely grey on a Vaikasi afternoon as the people waited for their beloved crown prince, Aditha Karikalan, to come home.

Only this time, there was no line of excited girls, wearing their best sarees, chattering away with their aarti thali on the steps of majestic Thanjavur fort, waiting to catch a glimpse of their handsome prince.

Instead, a grief-stricken royal family waited patiently. Chakrvarthi and the young prince, Ponniyin Selvan were waiting at the front, while the women of the royal family waited behind.

Slightly behind the royal family, Kodombalur Ilavarasi Vanathi was also waiting along with other royal women, looking over the sea of the people that gathered at the outer court of the fort. Since last night, as the news of the prince’s death spread, people kept coming from all corners of the Cholanadu.

While Vanathi waited, she thought of everything and nothing.

Such a contrast, Vanathi reflected, looking at the grey sky briefly before her gaze settled on the royal family who were clad in pristine white, a decorum when someone in the family passes away.

As if even the sky was mourning along with this family.

Vanathi’s thoughts got interrupted as people’s clamour suddenly increased, making her focus at the entry gate of the fort.

Finally, Aditha Karikalan had arrived in Thanjavur.

In the city where he grew up. In the city where he belongs.

A long procession of regiment came by foot, closely followed by the prince's beloved horse regiment, waving the chola flag.

From where she was standing, Vanathi could see the chariot carrying the prince’s body from a distance, closely flanked by his trusted fighting companions, Manamalyan, Parthibendran and Vanthiyadevan; not leaving their beloved prince’s side, even in death.

As the chariot slowly moved across the crowd, Vanathi could hear muffled cries while some people started to shower flower petals at the chariot, a sign of their last respect to their Ilavarase. A section of the crowd even started to tussle with the guards to touch the chariot and pray.

It took a long time for the guards to clear the way for the chariot to cross the short distance of the entry gate to the steps of the fort.

When the chariot carrying the prince's body finally stopped in front of the fort stairs, there was a momentary pause among the royal family members.

As if they could not believe what they were seeing.

The ailing Chakravarty was the first to break down as he could not support his weight anymore. Ponniyin Selvan gripped his father tightly, making sure his father could come down the stairs to meet his beloved elder son.

Raṇi varataṭcaṇai Sembiyan Mahadevi, Rani Vanavan Mahadevi, Iliya Piratti slowly started to walk behind the Chakravarty to meet their nephew, son and brother, Aditha Karikalan, one last time. Vanathi followed them as well, her steps heavy with grief.

As everyone in the family huddled at the front of the chariot and tried to caress the beloved prince’s face, the cries of the Chakravarti and Rani were the most heart-breaking. Vanathi, who was standing at the end of the chariot, could not take it anymore. She bowed her head, closed her eyes to drown out the sound of cries and desperately put her hands together in prayer.

Ishvara, may the Ilavarase join you in heaven. And…And give my beloved royal family and the people of Cholanadu the strength to overcome this difficult time.

Vanathi stayed still for a few minutes, hoping the cries had subdued. As she opened her eyes, she knew that her attempt at focusing on praying was futile.

But she had to try.

In desperation, her eyes searched for the only face that could give her strength at this moment.

As her eyes landed on Ponniyin Selvan’s face, Vanathi realized, despite being such a pillar of strength to his father, the young prince could not hold himself together anymore.

His face contorted with unspeakable grief; tears were streaming down his eyes continuously.

Vanathi had endured loss in various forms from a very young age. Her mother’s death, even though she had never met her, had left a deep wound in her childhood. Then her father’s death at Ilankai war, leaving her as an orphan in this cruel world. Then bidding farewell to her only father like figure uncle Periya Velar before every war, not knowing whether he would return alive from them was always tantamount to loss for her….Yet, no pain of these losses compared to the pain of seeing her beloved Ponniyin Selvan grieving at this moment.

Until this point, Vanathi did not realize that she had been crying along with everyone else. But seeing her Ponniyin Selvan break down like this, fresh tears blocked her vision completely. Her heart felt so heavy that for a moment she felt like she could not breathe anymore.

Wiping her tears with pallu, Vanathi took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

As the guards started to move to take the chariot away for cremation, on a whim, Vanathi decided to come at the front of the chariot and touch Ilavarase Aditha Karikalan’s feet, seeking blessings.

An opportunity she never had before.

While she looked at the crown prince’s resting face one last time, Vanathi realized, in death, Aditha Karikalan had finally found his peace.

The peace that he had been searching for a long time.

Tagging my enablers who I have on my profile: @harinishivaa @nspwriteups @balladedutempsjadis @celestesinsight @thelekhikawrites @reeeereeeereeereee @whippersnappersbookworm @sambaridli

Feel free to tag others/reblog if you like :)

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thereader-radhika · 9 months

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Fanfiction prompt: Someone advises Vanathi to be vary of Kundavai

Does Vanathi know the complete history of Kundavai and Nandini?

When they first met, Kundavai was so jealous of Nandini and called her owl-faced and bullied her. She didn't like her brothers interracting with her. But after Aditha Karikalan left for a battle, she and Nandini became best friends. When Karikalan returned after two years, he observed that Nandini's expensive clothes and jewellery were gifted by Kundavai. Nandini was shy to talk to him as in the old times but he seeked her out and both fell for each other, which angered Kundavai. Even at the end, she considered Nandini a gold-digger who pursued Veera Pandyan and her brother.

Has Vanathi ever imagined the consequences of offending her Kundavai akka in some manner? If she wasn't the Kodumbaloor princess but just another orphan girl like Nandini, she wouldn't have been considered to even dust Arulmozhi's sandals. Kundavai starts dreaming about the lost opportunity to end Chola-Pandya war by conducting Nandini-Aditha Karikalan marriage after she learns that she could have been Veera Pandyan's daughter.

Maybe it is one of the disgruntled girls in Kundavai's retuine who tells Vanathi that her position isn't as enviable as she thinks. How will Vanathi react? Will she find solace in the fact that she is actually a princess with the backing of a powerful clan and doesn't have to worry about hypothetical scenarios?

@harinishivaa @celestesinsight @ambidextrousarcher @whippersnappersbookworm @sampigehoovu @sakhiiii @thelekhikawrites

#ponniyin selvan #ponniyin selvan 2 #nandini #nandhini #kundavai #aditha karikalan #aditya karikalan #vanathi #arulmozhi varman #arulmozhi #vanmozhi #nandini x aditha #nanditha

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nspwriteups · 11 months

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Kannalane Chapter 2: Conversations and Confessions

Aditha. Why did that name sound so familiar? And that person.She was sure she had never seen him in Thanjai before, never heard a voice similar to his, never seen someone who even remotely resembles him but still ... .His presence was so comforting and familiar. Who was this Aditha? How was he able to have such an influence on her after meeting for only a handful of times? Nandini was suddenly gripped by a desire to know more about him. So she made a decision as she laid down to sleep that night. She will go back to the old Banyan tree one last time tomorrow. Just to see that person again.one more time. Maybe even have a friendly conversation as Vishaka told her to do. And then they would separate as acquaintances.She would find a new abode of peace and he can take rest under her Banyan tree with his sword and daggers as much as he wants without her interference.

The next evening Nandini seated herself under the same old place as usual, savouring a mango she got from Vishaka, after putting some mangoes aside for her family and one more for her fellow visitor. He must be from a wealthy family, he may even get baskets of mangoes if he just wished. Her mind chided her. Still, she kept one aside for him so that they could start their pleasantries on a good act of benevolence. But time flew by and her visitor failed to come. She saw the sun disappearing and decided to return to the temple, her heart heavy with disappointment at the absence of her mysterious youth. Well, not so mysterious but a name and a suspicion about his status was all she knew about him.Why was she so crestfallen ? It wasn't like they agreed to a meet and greet. Surely he must have other important duties to attend to, just like she has. With these thoughts, she made her way to the temple. She was again assigned the role of distributing prasad to the devotees.

Sometimes fate works in strange ways. That was what Nandini thought when she saw Aditha enter the temple. He was alone and seemed to be searching for someone. The moment his eyes locked on hers, he gave her a grin and made his way over standing at the end of the line.She returned to focus on her task at hand but couldn't help sneak a glance at him at times. He was standing straight, with hands at his back, moving ever so slightly as the queue started moving, looking around at the crowd with a carefree look. Suddenly she wished the queue would move faster so he could reach her quicker. Did he come to see her? Maybe apologise for not coming today? She wished to talk to someone about it. Where was Vishaka when you needed her?

After what seemed to be a long time, he stood in front of her. "Hello Chempaka" he said in a teasing tone.

"I'm not wearing any Chempaka flowers today" she said

"Do you want me to get you some?" He replied quickly, with his usual smirk.

She narrowed her eyes at him. How brashen he is. " You didn't come today" She said, meaning to say it as a question but it came out sounding like a statement. He looked at her for a minute in genuine confusion before a look of realisation came over his face.

"I'm sorry Devi. I didn't know you were waiting for me" he said, looking for confirmation in her face. She knew even if she denied it, he would catch her lie from her face. " I was ..just…wondering" she nevertheless made a somewhat convincing excuse, as she handed over the prasad to him. He received it and said " I will come tomorrow. I promise" .Then turning to pray to the deity, he walked away, not before giving her a reassuring smile. She returned the smile.

He came as promised. And what occurred was deafening silence. Nandini quickly realised she wasn't like Vishaka at all. Vishaka could make friends with anyone within minutes while Nandini took longer time to create friendship. She was even comfortable sitting in silence instead of filling the quietness with words like Vishaka. It seemed Aditha was also of the same attitude. At first they used to bask in their silence, occasionally remarking on the weather or talking about the latest events. Slowly but surely as the days passed, Nandini found herself going back on her decision and arriving at her personal abode of peace now sharing it with her newfound friend, Aditha. And as the bond of trust between them started to strengthen, they exchanged their life stories.

" I'm an orphan" Aditha said "My mother died in childbirth and my father was a soldier who was killed in war when I was seven. He was a close friend of the Sambuvarayar Shivarama. After my father died, he adopted me as his son as he and his wife were childless. I had been at Nagaipattanam for the past few months to learn sword fighting and horse riding . I wish to be a soldier like my biological father and to serve the Chozha Naadu"

"Have you never wished for a sibling?" Nandini asked

"I like to think I had a handful of siblings last life and that's why I don't have any in this life" Aditha shrugged

"Well, I have two headaches in the form of human beings as my sister and brother. You are lucky "

He laughed " I know you appreciate and love them despite their mischiefs, Chempaka. You seem like a very considerate person "

"Nandini "

"What?"

"You don't have to call me Chempaka anymore. You can call me Nandini, "she said softly.

"Nandini" He said it aloud as if testing to see how it sounded. " That's a beautiful name"

Nandini was aware of a change in her feelings towards her friend. She started waiting for his arrival and reminiscing about their conversations afterwards. Even Kaveri caught on to her changed demeanor. "Akka, why are you smiling at the food? Are you thinking of someone? Am I going to have a brother in law soon?" She would tease, only to have Nandini box her ears for her cheekiness. But try as she may, she wasn't able to settle the butterflies in her stomach whenever he said her name.

"Nandini, tell me, is there any backstory to your name?" Aditha asked once

" My father told me he thought of the name when he saw me for the first time" Nandini said

"He chose well. You really are a bringer of joy" He said with his signature smirk and Nandini tried not to let him see her blush.

"What about you?"

He let out a deep sigh " I remember my father telling me I was named after the late uncle of the current ruler, Aditha Karikalan. I have heard stories of how fierce a warrior he was and one day, I hope I can be a warrior just like him" then he turned towards her " I also remember there was a Nandini at that time. The Pazhavur Iliya Rani . People say she was the most beautiful woman to have walked the land. No one knows how she died though. Some say she passed away due to an illness, some say she was killed, others say she drowned herself"

What has gotten into his mind? Nandini wondered. Comparing her to that of the enchanting Pazhavur Iliya Rani just because they share the same name. She looked back to see he was gazing at her playfully.

"What?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at him

"You know, before she became Pazhavur Rani, Nandini Devi and Aditha Karikalan were rumoured to be lovers" Aditha continued, watching her expression.

"So?"

"So.." He took a minute to grin at her before saying " Would this Nandini like to be the lover of this Aditha?"

Her eyes widened as she processed what he just said. This time though she wasn't able to hide her blushing cheeks from him. Not giving an answer and thoroughly taken aback by his upfront manner, she did what she did best. Standing up and briskly walking off.

"Nandini come back" She heard him laugh behind her "I was just teasing you, Chempaka"

To be continued…

@ramcharanobsessed @dumdaradumdaradum @vibishalakshman @thatacademic @hollogramhallucination @kovaipaavai @rang-lo . @willkatfanfromasia @thelekhikawrites @thegleamingmoon @deafeningflowercat @yehsahihai @whippersnappersbookworm @itsfookingloosah @gemsmusings @chiyaanvikram @elvenladysakura . @matka-kulfi . @madatdisney @bumblebeeskywalker @vahnithedreamer @nkarti @dosai-maavu @utterlynotperfect @winter-birds @happy-bookworm @tumbledout @anabanana4115 @freeunknownwasteland @bhataktiatmacore @rapunzels-stuff @celestesinsight @mairablue @rationalelderberry @existenceiswhateven @arachneofthoughts @spider5884fan11 @nirmohi-premika

#ponniyin selvan #ponniyin selvan 2 #aditha karikalan #nandini #nandini x karikalan #nanditha #fanfiction series #ps fanfiction #poniyin selvan fandom

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willkatfanfromasia · 6 months

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Yeah I just randomly decided to drop this

A Night to Remember - 4

Nandini woke up the next morning. She’d always had the tendency to watch over her back since her experience with creeps as a girl. Her eyesight was hazy, she scanned the thick tartan blanked on the pillow next to her and tied it around like a robe.

Her hands pressed against the mattress, giving away that she’d been shifted mid-nap from the sofa. Eyes still blurry, she gingerly placed her feet on the floor and stood up. Her nose sensed coffee and she unsteadily walked towards the kitchenette like a baby deer.

The sight of the man busily stirring milk and decoction brought back a tsunami of memories from last night. ‘Holy shit’ flashed in hot pink letters in her mind- she just jeopardized everything she’s worked for.

Dressed in the same clothes from yesterday, he looked proper in his olive shirt if not for the few wrinkles on the fabric. Even his casual clothes belied a certain status- a prestige that always seemed to evade her.

She licked her lips and inhaled deeply as she saw his forearm muscles flex, before they placed the mug down…

He was humming what seemed like “kaadhal yaanai varugiran remo” but…..

Nandini knew he was aware of her presence. It had always been that way with them.

The different possibilities took turns assaulting her brain. She’d have laughed at this pseudo- doctor strange moment if not for her own folly.

Procrastination was her guilty pleasure – one she rarely had time for. She worked her ass off in college and at work to establish herself. Letting her imagination run wild on what life with Aditya would look like was a rare treat she allowed herself. In the darkness of her room, her siblings just a few metres away, she’d imagine him running to her breathlessly. His relief at finding her would cause a smile to bloom in his face and she’d happily accept being carried away into the sunset.

Then came the real deal. She’d imagine how his hands would feel on her skin, his yearning after years apart translated into pleasurable caresses. Nandini couldn’t help but let her imagination take over. Her lack of experience and strong moral compass were put on hold to give herself this ‘reward’. She’d try caressing herself the way she imagined he’d do, but her soft hands lacked the same passion.

My 19 year old self would have fainted if she found out about last night, she thought, gently tiptoeing to the sofa. Truly, she feared her lofty dreams would make reality boring. This was Aditya though, last night made her most intricate fantasies pale in comparison.

A flash of olive brought her back to earth. How embarrassing she thought realising Aditya now stood in front of her and had been smiling at her for a few minutes. His eyes, having regained the cockiness of youth, twinkled as he handed her a mug of coffee.

“I ain’t no Gordon Ramsay, but I take my chai-coffee seriously “ he winked. She accepted the mug and quickly began sipping, hoping to hide her agog expression.

His behaviour really threw her off. She’d expected him to either coldly dismiss her as a one night stand – a taste of his past. Or drag her back into his family home – the den of oppression – like he’d tactlessly done all those years ago.

He was sweet, attentive but didn’t force her to talk. The clinking of spoons and ceramic, the swishing of the liquid within were the only sounds in the room.

One thing she remained assured was his honor. Even if others judge her he’d never allow her name to be tarnished.

Yes he much prefers tarnishing her himself she thought with a flush. She excused herself under the guise of ‘freshening up’ and fled back to the bedroom.

She showered and draped her saree- that miraculously wasn’t torn- as she searched her phone.

A timely buzz alerted her. She didn’t remember doing this last night,so clearly Aditya must’ve charged her phone when he woke up. She unplugged it, opened her email and scrolled through. An email from her boss titled “PRIORITY” stared back. “that’s weird” Nandini huffed but opened it anyway, the news in it making her go….

“AAAHHHHH! Y’all don’t pay me enough for this crap”

@nashibirne @nspwriteups @favcolourrvibgior @vibishalakshman @thelekhikawrites @dr-scribbler @kovaipaavai @budugu @dosai-maavu @matka-kulfi @curiousgalacticsoul @harinishivaa @chiyaanvikram-blog @celestesinsight @inveter @deepti1011 @itszhunotz @babayagahunt @thegleamingmoon @ragkee @inlovewithfictionalbeings @happysharkdragon @gowrimenonop-1 @ramcharanobsessed @nature-writes29 @voidsteffy @whippersnappersbookworm @hollogramhallucination @thereader-radhika @sowlspace @rang-lo @nirmohi-premika @love-ps1ff @canonless5 @sampigehoovu @ambidextrousarcher @balladedutempsjadis

#ponniyin selvan #aditha karikalan #nandhini #nandini x aditha #ponniyin selvan fanfiction #nandini x karikalan

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holly-mckenzie · 11 months

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I leave for Thanjavur today. The King has ordered that I shall accompany him to war. To war? At your age? I may not return for a year or two.

PONNIYIN SELVAN: II dir. by Mani Ratnmam

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philtstone · 8 months

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Aditha/nandini jacket

AFTER A MILLION YEARS I FINIALLY FINISHED THIS set in this verse and a prequel to the silly asides in this fic. a mix of book and movie canon as usual! for those who responded to my wip poll im sorry i ignored literally all of your votes and instead worked on "in which vandiyadevan is trapped in the toilet" but it ended up working out for everyone (me and the 2 mutuals reading this) so whos laughing NOW anyway apologies in advance for any cultural errors or general incoherency; its one in the morning and maya is in a different time zone. i had to google things! also none of this is serious. enjoy!

Evening is cooler than Nandini expected.

After the tumultuous heat of Poonghuzhali’s van, and the station, and the day, and the week — well, she did not anticipate shivering in the dark outside this dormitory. The leather motorcycle jacket she so pointedly wore in the blistering sun now, a week later, lies untouched beside her. They have had three stare-offs in the last twenty minutes, she and the jacket. She cannot bring herself to put it on; the idea leaves a queer feeling in her belly that she doesn’t care to examine.

The dormitory itself is a relatively humble one, considering the wealth of its former occupant’s family. More a boy’s hostel than the kind of lodging the Cholas might secure for their most beloved child. Arunmozhi seems completely unbothered by the state of it. He grins widely at the orange toned walls, scuffed, and the low doors, slamming open and shut at intervals (though less now, so late into the night), and the general ruckus of the boys who greet them. They were all but cheering in welcome of their former dorm mate and his mismatched band of traveling companions, needing a place to avoid the authorities and – impossibly – his Uncles’ and her fathers’ spies, last minute. There was a lot of hugging that went around, at any rate. It’s not quite an elder siblingish relationship, Nandini thinks, though she is absurdly then struck by the question of whether the benign, chummy, kindly way Arunmozhi interacts with the younger boys is patterned after the way his own — that is to say, he has an older br — oooh.

Nandini does not want to think about it.

Just as well, because she’s many other, marginally less useless things to think of.

She is thinking of these things quite obsessively, in matter of fact. Scientific observation would suggest a verge on neuroticism. So it goes in Nandini’s head: oh, Lord, My Mother. She is Here. I’ve met Her. She is Alive after all, and so Beautiful, and so Fucking Weird.

(The capitalizations are quite manifest in her own thoughts).

If anyone else were to say the last she’d box them, but God it is true, and Nandini is nearly brought to happy tears by the realness of her mother’s strangeness. Her mother is exactly the same height as she. Her ears are not pierced. She favours her left leg, while Nandini favours neither, but when she walks she sways her hips in much the same way Nandini does when she is not thinking about it. She has hair which is nearly the same length and weight and texture, and it curls around the ears such that it must tickle – Nandini has much experience with this. Her mother’s fingers taper off as hers do; the nail beds are the same; her mother’s chin dimples against her neck in a way Nandini has always felt insecure about in herself. They have a mole in the same spot on their arm; Nandini’s left toe has a bunion near identical to the left toe of her mother; the bottom row of her mother’s teeth lay the same; her mother’s breasts are not very small, but not overly large either, and sit in the same position Nandini's do; her cheeks possess vestiges of the same roundness; her elbow wrinkles in the same way; her eyebrows are a bit unkempt in the middle, like Nandini’s were when she was a child and could not be bothered with their upkeep.

How strange it is! To see your own face so clearly in another. The slope of her nose — the curve of her mouth — the way her hair falls. Nandini wonders if this is what she will look like when she is old. She wonders if she is what her mother looked like when she was young. Surely the answer is yes. They are now inseparable in her mind, she and her mother, and it is overwhelming. She does not even need a father anymore; he has been axed from the equation. She has a mother. She knows her mother!

And when she saw her mother for the first time, cheerfully led out of the very mundane, uninspired Thanjai local jail, her mother knew her. Nandini had stood, transfixed, as Mandakini had touched her gently on the cheek, just so, and began to cry quiet little tears that slipped down her cheeks like they were the simplest thing in the world for her to give, to feel, to shed.

Nandini has always hated crying. Real crying, anyway; she is an expert fake crier, as anyone successful in the world of Tamil soaps must be. But real crying is snotty and uncontrollable and undignified.

Nandini thinks (she has been thinking all evening – it is really getting to be bad for her health) that is what makes her mother at once so unfamiliar, too.

There is so much tenderness in her face. Even without words (Nandini is so very good with words, honeyed and poisoned and flat and querulous, even, rarely, honest) her mother tells the world of her love. For her daughter (who craves it so badly); for Arunmozhi (who despite Nandini’s earliest assumptions seems to know he must earn it, however freely it is given); for simply living, it seems. Nandini cannot understand this last part. Life has been on whole pretty miserable, for her mother. What right does it have to her love?

Nandini does not think she could ever love like that.

She’s seated and steeped in these ruminations on the topmost step of the dusty concrete facing the dormitory courtyard; behind her must be the toilets, for there is a light on inside one of them, and in front of her is a small garden decorated with scraggly trees which housed the mango-stealing monkey who had earlier been tormenting the dorm’s inhabitants, and a little walking path. Earlier, in the dark, she saw Arunmozhi and her mother (her mother!) start off on a little walk along the path. She supposes it does make sense; they have not seen each other in a while, and he has explained to her how Mandakini saved him from that lake, and that rickshaw, and also his own slippery bathtub once in this very same dorm. They’re old pals: Nandini knew this going into the venture. He knows sign language and everything, and can communicate with her far better than Nandini can. So it makes sense that they must now catch each other up – she on why the police inspector was bribed to arrest her (this is still a little muddy) and he on his future career plans (vague) and current family business rescue plans (hairbrained and relying too much on the goodwill of Nandini herself, if she’s being honest). But watching them go, arm in arm, signing animatedly at one another left a strange ache in her heart. That was a while ago. Bits of the yard are illuminated by the light from one or two dorm windows, but on whole, it is past curfew, and therefore dark; Nandini is more or less alone with her thoughts and also the noise from the city beyond the wall.

Being alone, she has spent the last thirty seconds staring sightlessly at some invisible point in front of her, eyes the size of saucers, spiraling.

“Erm – ahem.”

Nandini startles so badly her bangle-clad wrist nearly knocks into her own nose.

Aditha Karikalan has never been particularly tall. When they were teenagers there was a brief month where she had an inch on him. Right now, however, he stands above her such that she has to look up, and once more notice the fact that he does carry himself with a kind of dignified height. Which Nandini appreciates. Or did appreciate. Or – well, she is not sure. The last week has been quite a lot of everything. He wears a loose linen button down in a bright orange pattern open over a t-shirt, and a simple dhoti clumsily tied (she remembers the rare time he wore one in school, when they weren’t wearing their uniforms, she had helped him tie it), and sandals, and his wrists are sporting a nice fancy watch but they’re also covered in enough bead bracelets that, paired with his hair – unruly and wild and long as ever – he really does look far more the part of children’s camp counselor than first son of any kind of business mogul-cum-politician.

Which Nandini appreciates. Or could appreciate. Or – well, she is not sure. A week ago, she would have very deliberately said, well, and what does a camp counselor make, anyway – I want to be a Bollywood actress, and glared him down out of spite.

The last week really has been a lot of everything.

Anyway; she stares at him. Amidst her up-til-now very private spiraling.

Her mother her mother her mother her mother oh she is so known but so unknown oh they cannot love the same oh perhaps Nandini cannot love at all oh that must mean that must mean must it mean? that she, Nandini, well could she be broken is that what her mother sees surely she sees –

“I just – well. There’s the – the restroom is right there. So I’d come to …” And here Aditha stops his terribly uncomfortable and verging on comical awkward explanation, tilts his head – some immaterial spark of understanding happening in his sharp lovely eyes – and says, in an abortedly gruff tone that does very little to prevent what happens next, “Nandini … are you – alright?”

Nandini, rather unexpectedly, begins blubbering. Loudly.

Her face crumples in on itself. Her shoulders hunch inward. Her nose gets snotty and her throat clogs up. And in general, she makes a very pathetic sort of hiccupy wailing noise, which she had not planned for.

“Shit,” says Aditha above her, after a moment of stunned silence. “Fuck, okay – Nandini? Well, you shouldn’t cry – come on, pull it together. The toilets are right there, look, someone’s even using them. Uh – well – alright, alright. It’s alright.”

None of his stammered, asinine condolences register much in Nandini’s ears. She is just very overwhelmed. It is only after a moment of her crying, sat on her rump outside the men’s toilets, that the stiff, chilly awkwardness of the night air changes, and there is a person quite suddenly beside her, and then not just beside her at all, but holding her – his arms carefully wrapped around her shoulders, his warm chest a perfect distance from her cheek, his large hands flattening clumsily over her back. Their knees bump together, and it isn’t very graceful at all – she refuses to move, so he must lean over ungainingly, and is probably quite uncomfortable doing it.

Nandini cries into Aditha’s shoulder for five or ten minutes. He only pats her back stupidly once, at the start, and by the end of it, it is a proper embrace, and they are even rocking back and forth just a little.

It’s nice.

Presently, Nandini’s tears slow, and she registers the position she is in more properly. Whole-bodily, in fact. She had not expected that her body’s memory would slip back into this embrace so easily, and the realization is disquieting. She does not move, and Aditha does not move – she wonders if he is having the same panicked, wary thoughts – and so they sit in a stupid little impasse, hugging, for another two minutes.

It’s getting to the point where she is noticing his cologne, so Nandini decides it is high time to pull herself together; she sits up, wiping at the snot on her face, and pretends her stomach is not in knots. A lopsided roll of toilet paper materializes in front of her nose. Oh – Aditha is holding it. She eyes it like a ticking bomb. It’s a bit squashed, like it was in his pocket. He must have brought it with him, earlier, which means he really did mean to use the bathroom, which means he hadn’t actually sought her out –

Had he? He’s still holding her, sort of, and Nandini is terribly disoriented to realize that it is not an abhorrent sort of feeling, as she has very deliberately imagined it would be in the past, when hosting her more elaborate and vindictive daydreams in which she supposed they might reunite, not because she missed him badly but because she nursed ongoing fantasies of holy vengeance; all of those ended with her dumping a bucket of slop over his head. Instead, she has stopped feeling a decent measure of her earlier anxiety, and is breathing more normally now, and the rapidity of her thoughts have veered away from the breakneck pace of before.

That could just be the crying. Her brother used to say that a tender weeping was good for one’s spirit.

Nandini’s lip wobbles again; she misses Nambi, and is overwhelmed with a trickling feeling of shame – hadn’t she just left him, for so many months, and ignored all his overly-formal emails?

The idea of emails makes her remember she has not sent a mildly threatening missive (subject line: I Know You Know Something About Mandakini Nolastname) from her ghost account to Sundura Chola in a while, and then that makes her think, well, it’s pointless now – her stalwart ally Arnunmozhi won’t have any reason to give her gently reproachful looks re: her long term haunting of his invalid father anymore – she’s found her mother – and then she is re-visited, very strongly, at once, by the dual reality of oh God her mother and oh God, Aditha is holding me.

Fuck, she needs to blow her nose.

“Here,” comes Aditha’s low voice, as though he’s read her mind. Which of course he hasn’t. But still. He tears off a piece of the toilet paper for her. Nandini trembles, and does not know whether she ought to lean in closer, or pull away entirely. She can feel his heartbeat against her shoulder, and while Nandini does not have a lot of experience with the biological sciences, it is beating rather more quickly than the average human heart ought to be.

“Oh,” she says, taking the tissue on autopilot. She dabs at her face, which must surely be smeared in kajol by now, and then her nose, which is probably ugly and red.

Good thing it’s so late at night.

After she’s done, because there doesn’t seem anything better to do – the alternative is getting up and fleeing, and Nandini is not a coward – she turns and stares at him.

Aditha clears his throat and scuffs one foot into the dirt at their feet, but he doesn’t look away. He’s grown a beard. She noticed this first thing last week. He never had one before.

“It’s just,” Nandini says, again on autopilot, “-- my mother.”

Ah, her mother. Poonghuzhali had demonstrated a very rare bout of tearful emotion and Arunmozhi his by now expected kindly friendship; Vandiyadevan had slipped her extra clementines after his grocery run and even Kundavai had been looking at her more gently than usual all afternoon.

Until now, Aditha had been avoiding her. At her words his expression flickers, oddly, a shade of genuine concern colouring his face, before settling into something not quite effortless in its knowing but careful and gentle. She’d forgotten that he could look at her like that. It’s different now, just a little bit. The Look from before was more boyish, and the look now has a kind of sadness to it that makes it feel more real. Maybe it’s the beard. Unease fills her chest again, tenses up her hands. What must he be thinking? Why did he go about all day avoiding her? Alright, so she has also been avoiding him – all week now, to be sure – but – but –

“It must be really strange,” he says suddenly. His voice is deeper than before but not by much. She has not noticed this until right now, because they are sitting so closely and he is speaking quite softly. “Finding – finding someone who is so like you, all of a sudden.”

Whatever was on the verge of backflipping in the pit of Nandini’s stomach sours. Her chin trembles; she looks away. “I suppose.”

“Can’t really prepare for it, I guess.”

She sniffs. “I’ve been looking for months,” she says, more pointedly than perhaps she means. Looking does not equal preparation; the person she was in that Sri Lankan library was not entirely well, let alone prepared. Nandini is woman enough to acknowledge this. To herself, anyway.

“It’s – it’s funny really,” he continues, deliberately gruff again, but not with the awkwardness of before; it’s more sincere now, roughened with honesty, yet in a way that is entirely oblivious to Nandini’s chin wobbles, “I can’t really understand what she’s saying half the time,” he rubs at his knee with one free hand, “but you know what I’ll tell you – I don’t think – well, I’ve never seen anyone with the same sort of sweetness in their face.”

“As what,” croaks Nandini.

He looks at her strangely. Nightlife honks and buzzes past the dorm walls, cocooning them. “As you,” he says, like she is being stupid.

Nandini flushes deep from within. No – he must be lying. Hadn’t he called her a poisonous witch just last week?

She supposes he must have meant that, but she knows Aditha well, and she knows when he is lying, even now – she has come to know, through many a painful altercation (the witch thing, and also she has threatened to kill him a few times) – and she resolves that whatever he meant last week, right now, he is also being honest. She feels somewhat dizzy. The urge to bolt is real. He, too, is looking a bit terrified, like maybe he did not exactly plan to say that in so many words, or maybe he had but now that it is out in the open he’s realizing it sounds a lot more – a lot more – than anticipated.

“Have you really watched my show?” Nandini blurts out, more loudly than she means to.

If Aditha’s eyes were wide already, they widen even further in alarm. This was a tidbit Vandiyadevan gave away two days ago; she thinks Aditha has still not forgiven him. He stammers,

“It was the only thing on TV,” with very little bravado. But then, before Nandini’s chest can deflate, as though shaking himself he says, more resolutely, “well, what was I supposed to do? That one scene of yours went viral on Twitter and the aunties at camp – who know very little about acting, may I add – just repeated what they read, blah blah blah like twittering little quails, but I am an educated person, Nandini, and a role model for children, and I have to investigate my news for myself –”

“Thank you for the tissue,” Nandini interrupts, because if she keeps her mouth occupied, then maybe that will quell its urge to spread into a large smile – maybe even emit a hysteric giggle or two – as if it’s forgotten that she only went into dead-end television acting in the first place because of the Veera Pandiyan scandal –

How much of that was really Aditha’s fault, though?

Nandini’s heart thumps rapidly. Now she’s really being crazy. Think of your mother again, girl. Go back to blubbering or something. Aditha blinks at her a few times. The light is pretty dim (they are lit from behind), but just enough that she can see the flush on his neck and ears. Have they been this close the whole time?

“You – you were shivering when I got here,” he manages, instead of answering. “It’s kind of cold, isn’t it?”

Nandini is not shivering now. In fact, the place where his arm is still held against her back is so warm she thinks she could doze off in contentment just leaned up against him, if not for the fact that her stomach is doing gymnastics beneath the crop of her top. She nods anyway.

“I will be fine.”

“You should wear your jacket,” he says, roughly.

Nandini blinks. “Oh – no, I can’t. That’s yours.”

She isn’t looking for a reaction, per se; the words just sort of come out. She can very well see the bob of his throat, though, and the slight inhale he takes – his chest moves against her shoulder – before he says,

“Come on, Nandu, it was a gift.”

Nandini is overcome by a very strong urge to scream. Or swoon. If she had ever had reasons for wanting to kill him, she’s forgotten them just now. In fact it is very easy to forget the existence of everything around them – her lingering fragility about her mother, or the fact that they are right out in the wide open air, and there’s the real possibility that Kundavai of all bloody people will interrupt them. All these are things entirely immaterial, because unbidden her hand has moved up to press gently against Aditha’s chest, and she can clearly feel the rough pad of his thumb against the bare skin of her back, and they really are sitting so very close – a puff of his breath brushes against her cheek – and her heart goes thump thump thump thump so loudly she can’t really hear anything else.

His eyes have dropped to her mouth. “Nandini, love …” he starts, in a murmured, involuntary whisper.

Nandini tilts her head so very slightly closer …

Bang!

If it is possible for two people to jump a foot apart while still being seated, Nandini and Aditha achieve this. Behind them, in the spilling light of the open bathroom door, lounges the person of Vandiyadevan, who is doing a very bad job at putting on suave and chill airs. Faintly, there is the sound of a toilet flushing behind him.

“No one could have guessed how badly this door sticks, eh?” he says loudly, holding up a roll of paper not unsimilar to Aditha’s. He tries and fails to adjust his footing, stumbling sideways a little into the door frame and then giving them both the finger guns. “Well! Beautiful night. Don’t mind me, carry on!”

“Vandiyadevan,” Aditha’s voice filters into her ears distantly, like it is coming from very far away. “How – long … have you been in there?”

“I was using the facilities! What, can’t a man take a piss after a long day’s honest espionage –? Ayyo! Wait, no, I promise I’m leaving!”

“That’s not the – we weren’t doing anything –!” Nandini hears Aditha splutter out in a strangled yell.

Which is just as well, too, because by the time he has turned back around, she is already gone, bangles clinking as she flees, scrambled away to hide behind the dark corner of the building’s edge, where stands frozen and with her eyes squeezed shut, while her errant, traitorous heart tries its damndest to beat right out of her chest.

#who cares about coherent plot when you can have lovers to enemies to lovers ft Theyre Both Idiots The Whole Run Of The Thing Too #lovenemidiots to lovers. even #ponniyin selvan #aditha karikalan #nandini #aditha x nandini #vandiyadevan #HOPE U LIKE IT MAYA #also in case it wasn’t very clear aditha and nandini have Never Kissed there are no two people on earth who radiate virgin energy more #i came so close to having aditha call nandini Nandi. SO close #the girls who get it get it…

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houseofbreadpakoda · 11 months

Text

Avalai Marakathaan

Her scream still echoed in his ears.

"vendam.....I beg of you, spare him"

But at that moment, Aditha was deaf to Nandini's pleadings. He was blind to her, begging at his feet, with folded, blood ridden hands.

His mind was clouded. Clouded by the fact that she had gotten over him. Clouded by the fact that she was in love with another man.

Veera Pandiyan lay on the cot, blood oozing out of his wounds, clinging to every millimetre of his body. With his breath beggining to run shallow, his eyes blurry, he faintly managed to call Nandini.

Ah, to hear her name, burnt his heart.

But hearing Veera Pandiyan say it burnt his soul. A soul he had considered lost when he was seperated from Nandini.

Before he himself could fully comprehend what he was doing, Aditha had strode forward and slit Veera Pandiyan's throat. Blood splattered all around the hut. It splattered on his skin and armour, quenching his thirst for revenge.

For a split second, he felt at peace which immediately turned into regret as he heard Nandini whimpering on the floor.

Her scream still echoed in his ears.

Her silhouette trembled, blood sprayed over her face. She had slouched down to her knees, falling on to her side.

"How could you forget about me Nandini?" Asked Aditha, still looking at Veera Pandiyan's corpse. He had finally begun to let his emotions surface. "How could you forget about me, our love? Was it even love? Or was it just so you could ascend the throne and become Thanjai Illaya Rani?"

Her eyebrows furrowed and eyes widened. "Why would you say something like that?" Nandini asked after a long pause.

"How could you fall in love with Veera Pandiyan!" Aditha exclaimed turning around in rage "or was that another play too, to get access to royalty?"

Nandini rose slowly, her body still shaken by the incident that had just taken place. She stared into Aditha's eyes for a minute and sighed, still maintaining eye contact.

"He was like a father to me Aditha. He took me in, gave me food, shelter and most of all, dignity."

The regret had now turned into guilt. His mental state had manipulated the situation.

"How could I ever forget you Aditha?"

Aditha looked back at Nandini, but this time he saw the old Nandini. The Nandini he'd take on horseback rides. The Nandini he'd lurk around the temples to see. This time there was a glimmer in her eyes, a slight smile on her lips.

She still loved him.

Maybe he'd be forgiven for the sin he had just committed.

He took one step closer to her, but she stepped back. Aditha looked confused.

He saw a tear trickle down Nandini's cheeks. A tear as red as blood. He tried to wipe it, when Nandini drew out her dagger. He stopped in his tracks. Her lotus like eyes looked weary, her delicate milk like skin was coated in blood, her hands which held garlands of flowers now held a dagger.

That is when it struck Aditha. Nandini had changed. And it was all because of him. She had turned into a snake, but it was he who had provided the poison.

His eyes burnt, facing the reality.

He could see the life he had imagined with Nandini burning in flames. Aditha heaved once and then again, before he dropped to the ground and began sobbing.

"Lets run away Nandini. Run away from all this mess. Run away where it's only you and me" asked Aditha with the final little hope he had.

"I can't Aditha. We can't. This was never meant to be" Nandini had completely broken down. That scarred Aditha. To him, he was always meant for her and she for him, since childhood.

Aditha was no longer the warrior who had killed thousands and conquered hundreds of kingdoms. He had crashed to the ground, trying to convince the love his life to run away with him.

For a second their eyes met, and suddenly they knew. They knew just what they hadn't known until that moment.

One arrow came through, and then another. In a second's time Nandini's body lay on the floor.

Aditha's body froze for a second before he frantically crawled to Nandini. Her body lay limp in the pool of blood. He took her into his arms, shook her and screamed to her in an attempt to bring her to consciousness. But she was gone.

"Karikalar is safe! He's well and alive!" shouted Parthibendran. And soon an army of soldiers came cheering, running towards the hut.

The chozha soldiers had found Aditha in the hut, and had seen a woman with bloodied hands, holding a dagger in front him. With the compromising position they saw Aditha in, they had assumed it would be right to shoot down the woman.

"Are you alright arase?" Parthiba whispered getting closer to Aditha. Aditha drew out his dagger in fury.

The hilt hit a glass of wine on his table, toppling it over, waking him up.

He could see the fabric of the tent wavering above him. Soon he could feel the silken sheets around. It took him a while to get up. It was a nightmare. Not the first. Not the last. Not for the sin he had committed.

One tear followed the other. He began to weep. Aditha howled in pain, he couldn't tolerate it anymore. He couldn't live like this anymore

He poured himself a glass of wine and gulped and shoved it down his throat to silence himself. He wished he could pierce that dagger of his through his heart and end all of this.

Her scream still echoed in his ears.

Had to write this after that frantic bed scene from Chinnanjiru Nilave MV.

For the "....and they knew" line, i really can't explain it. It's something i know they would want each other to know, and i let them, let the other know. It's a feeling i can't explain. I'm sorry, I'm not high i promise.

Yes, i did just make Parthibendran more horrible for myself.

It's the first fic I've ever posted, please ignore if the writing was a little weary at places. I'll work on it to get better.

(idk y'alls ids to tag, ping me so i get your Id)

;)

@vibishalakshman @thegleamingmoon @thelekhikawrites @whippersnappersbookworm @harinishivaa @chiyaanvikram @nspwriteups @willkatfanfromasia @yehsahihai

#ponniyin selvan 2 #ponniyin selvan #nandini #aditha karikalan #nandini x aditha

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