Chapter Text
Varadha still loves Deva.
Even after these 7 years of Deva’s exile, sentenced by Varadha himself for failing to protect Baachi, the first promise Varadha directly asked from Deva.
During that hazy and drunken moment of promise, laying his head on Deva’s lap with the other’s fingers carding through them, he still remembers the warm and fuzzy feeling in his heart, knowing that everything will be alright now that his Deva was here.
No matter that their lives were at stake.
No matter that there would definitely be a war raged by the durais of Khansaar.
All that mattered was that his Deva was back. With him. After 25 years of separation filled with misery and pain and loneliness which now had light shining at him.
All because of his Deva.
His love for the other man still burned for the 25 years Deva was sent away from Khansaar for his own safety.
Varadha was not stupid.
He knew while he was a teenager that the love he felt for Deva was not platonic, that imagining kissing your best friend’s pink tinted lips, who he hadn’t seen in years, was not normally thought of in a platonic relationship.
He spent hours in the night time, wondering whether Deva’s lips would be soft, supple and sweet or strong, rough and intoxicating.
Dreamed about his fingers tangled in those wild curls as they kissed in a frenzy.
His brain buzzed with millions of questions about how Deva looked as a teen himself; Did he still have the baby fat in his cheeks or had he lost it? Had he started growing stubble or was he insistent on being clean shaven?
(Personally, Varadha hoped that Deva had some stubble, to feel the burn on his skin as the other kissed every inch of his skin.)
And what a wonderful discovery that was, even after all these years, his cheeks flush with embarrassment and excitement at his memories of his personal … experiments before bedtime.
He often remembers the ferocity of the other boy as he fought with Rudra's wrestler to retrieve Varadha’s mookku kadiyam, the gentle touch of his blood covered fingers as he slid the ring back into its rightful place.
He remembers the feeling of butterflies in his stomach and the weirdly comforting sensation of his heart rapidly beating at Deva’s touch. That ferocity lighted a fire in Varadha’s heart and brain, to see his Salaar’s loyalty and passion to him.
Even after all these years, especially these 7 miserable and torturous years, he still loved him. He just hid it behind his mask of authority and power during his rule as the Khartha of Khansaar, because the one weakness Varadharaja Mannar of the Mannarsi tribe had was Devaratha Raisaar of the Shouryanga tribe.
Their friendship nor love was meant to be.
Not in this lifetime or in this god forsaken, desolate place.
But he took a chance again.
Of course he does.
Seeing Deva again after 7 years of separation, after he broke the seal, his own seal, and revealed his existence after all these years, Varadha ordered his men to bring in Deva, Amma, and Krishnakanth’s daughter.
Surprisingly, Deva put up zero resistance while being arrested, completely different to his previous stunts of decimating the Maoist camp that he was caught captive in.
Varadha reckoned it might be because Deva didn’t want to jeopardize Amma’s or Aadhya’s safety after desperately fighting to save them from his henchmen.
Though he desperately tried to push back the small voice in his mind that said that Deva had probably missed Varadha as much as he did the other man these 7 years.
Their journey from the camp to Khansaar was a long wait for Varadha. Or so it seemed. Only a day had passed when Baba notified him of their arrival. Varadha arranged for the three of them to be brought to the dungeons and kept in separate cells rather than bring them all to the court.
Varadha first visited Deva, because of course he did. He was seeing his Deva after 7 long years of separation, clinging onto childhood memories and joyous dreams turned into heart wrenching nightmares that kept him up most nights.
He slowly stepped inside the dingy cell, pushing the metal gate and wincing at the unpleasant creaking noise, making a mental note to call someone to fix it. As his eyes adjusted to the low lighting, they immediately zoned in on the figure sitting at the dim corner of the room.
Deva was handcuffed and had his legs tied up, and was shifting every often to get into a slightly more comfortable position. Varadha stood there motionless, gawking at the other man’s presence until a shuffling noise startled him into motion.
Varadha moved towards Deva, taking small but steady steps towards him, and crouched downwards a few feet before the other man. He stared at the other man for a few seconds before settling down cross-legged to make himself more comfortable, because being in your 40s and crouching down awkwardly is the worst thing you could do to your knees and spine.
Deva stared back in a surprised manner, with eyes wide open at seeing Varadha sitting so close to him and seemingly calm and quiet. Varadha let out a deep tiring sigh and rubbed the palms of his hand against his face and kept his face covered and head downwards.
His eyes peeked up from between the gaps of the hands covering his face to see Deva looking back with a bewildered expression. Removing his hands from his face, he moved closer to the ropes that tied up Deva’s ankles, and worked on untangling the knots and twists. As the last of the knot was removed, he made a move to take back his hands, which instantly derailed when Deva’s hands quickly grabbed hold of them.
Varadha’s head shot towards Deva’s, and took in a shuddering intake of breath as Deva spoke the first words to him in 7 years. “Dei… Varadha…?”. The words were spoken in a soft and gentle manner, so… loving, everything his mind had conjured up during those restless nights, when the memories of Deva got too much to brush away.
Tears pooled in his eyes, a few tiny stray ones escaping from the corners of them. Deva’s hands moved closer to his face, fingers brushing against his cheeks to wipe away the tears staining them. At Deva’s touch, he flinched slightly, but then lunged forward to bury his face in Deva's broad chest, tackling the other man.
Tears fell freely after then, with Deva attempting his best to console Varadha and carded his fingers through the man’s hair to calm him down, making shushing sounds whenever Varadha took quick short breaths and shuddered once in a while.
Both men laid entangled together for a while, away from the judging eyes of the outside world, just content with the other’s company after missing the other for so many years.
Varadha slowly sat up from where he was lying down with his head on Deva’s chest and looked back at the other man’s face. Deva was gazing back at him, his beautiful almond eyes focusing on Varadha’s own, confused and nervous. Something he couldn’t remember seeing much on Deva’s face.
They had to talk.
“… Deva? I’m… sorry. I’m so sorry da.” Deva just looked back at him encouragingly, moving to hold Varadha’s hands in his own in an attempt to comfort him.
“After Baachi died, I was a serious mess. I had no one else to call as my own, and… you were the only one who stayed with me as a constant. I’m not proud of it, but I… I blamed it on you. I forced you to go on a exile, away from me, after we had just met 25 years later. You literally hid away for these 7 years, constantly moving and never had a peaceful moment.” Varadha hung his head shamefully, looking down at their entwined hands, waiting for a response.
Deva’s hands cupped his chin, tilting them up to gaze into Varadha’s eyes. “Varadha, naanum sorry dhan ketkannum. I made a selfish decision that day. I remembered the promise, of course I did, but, at that moment, I couldn’t help but be selfish during the battle. I… I needed to protect you, because…” Deva let out a huge sigh before trudging on, “I- I love you! You were my first friend, fuck, you’re my only friend right now. Or was… my only friend I guess.” He morosely finished, a questioning gaze directed at Varadha.
“Dei! Nee yeppovum yen friend dhan. Marandhuttiya? You’re not only my Salaar. Not just my general. The days I was away from you were like hell! I feel like a walking corpse most days, just moving around until I drop dead one day. Being a Khartha is not like it seems. Maybe my family was right. Maybe I am worthle-”.
Deva’s hand shut Varadha’s mouth before he could continue on his self-deprecating journey, the palm brushing over his lips. “You are NOT worthless Varadha! Forget what your shitty family said! They’re stupid, heartless fuckers that desecrate the very ground they walk on, who don’t know how fucking precious you are!”
Varadha’s heart skipped a beat at hearing Deva’s stubborn tone, the self made fantasies that his mind had made up about Deva came rushing to the front, eager to compare how much the dreams were similar to the other man’s words. Forcing those thoughts away, he reminded himself that Deva was his friend and that the other man viewed him as one too.
Varadha didn’t need to ruin their friendship with his pathetic romantic feelings for Deva; if the other man even caught a sliver of his feelings, Deva would obviously just run away from Varadha and Khansaar, abandoning him because he only wanted Varadha as a friend, not as a lover!
Varadha nodded his head as Deva finished talking, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thank you.” He shared his head insistently when Deva looked at him with wide eyes. “Really! I should have thanked you and talked with you during that day. I shouldn’t have pushed you away! I should have talked with you as a mature adult and resolved our problems, rather than exiling you! I mean I was 35 for fuck’s sake! Not so much a mature adult, was I?”
Deva’s low laughter shook him out of what would’ve been a lengthy rant, instead forcing his eyes on the other man’s shaking shoulders and smiling lips. Varadha’s mouth curved into a bigger smile and he too joined in on the laughter. Deva knocked his shoulder with Varadha’s own in a gentle and playful way.
Varadha shuffled around until he had his back against the wall and then proceeded to rummage around in his pockets. With a noise of triumph, he held out a bobby pin with a flourish, and turned to where Deva was resting his hands. He poked and prodded at the lock mechanism of the handcuffs until a click sound was heard and the cuffs popped open.
Deva shook them out of his wrists and rubbed at the red patch of skin to sooth them. Deva then proceeded to copy Varadha’s position but chose to rather lay his head on Varadha’s shoulders. Varadha’s heart started to beat a little fast at Deva’s actions but didn’t say anything and just laid his head on top of the other’s.
“We’ll be ok won’t we? Hmm?” asked Deva in a quiet tone after a few minutes.
“Yeah, I think so too. We have a lot of time to talk and work on us da. Adhu podhum nammalukku.” Varadha patted Deva’s cheek affectionately.
Yes. Everything will be alright with a little time and effort. The most important thing was that his Deva was back. And still loved him. (“Only as a friend” his mind whispered, which he was quick to stomp and throw away.) Deva is back. They’re both in their early forties, and it’s taken them this long to find peace and quiet together, but they’re here now. And that’s all it matters to Varadha.
With those thoughts in mind, Varadha closed his eyes to rest, and had a peaceful and nightmare free sleep after 7 long years.