Thousand Years | A Shubman Gill & Ishan Kishan Fanfiction ✓

Saswin and Manikandan

1557 AD, Vijayanagara

Saswin tugged his art supplies closer to his heart. His heartbeat was a tad faster, the kind of race that indicated anticipation mixed with a small bowl of anxiety. He had done this before. In fact in the last three months, he had only painted portraits of royalty. The ministers. The court musicians. The army chieftain. It was the chief minister who had been his previous and the most recent patron.

Something about Saswin’s demeanor had struck him. So much that he had recommended him to the crowned prince whom Saswin was on his way to meet.

Steadying his breath as the palace came into view, Saswin readied himself for what he'd later call the most memorable encounter of his life.

*****

Manikandan was pacing up and down in his chambers with his mind analysing the change in taxation system that had been proposed in court today. He was stroking his stubble in thought when his trusted servant, Meyappan brought a man to his chamber.

Ah, the painter, Manikandan recalled. Thank God, he had arrived.

He nodded at Meyappan and asked him to inform all the servants that he wished to be left alone while the painting was made. Bowing, Meyappan obliged.

Once they were alone, Manikandan took a good look at the painter, remembering just in time that his name was Saswin.

With a heavy heart he noted that Saswin was taller than Manikandan. He sighed. Should have anticipated this. Almost everyone around him be it in court or outside of it, was taller than him.

He saw that Saswin was playing with his satchel, twirling it, in perhaps what seemed to him, nervousness. To ease him, Manikandan smiled.

It did not even take a fraction of a second for Saswin to return his smile. Manikandan drew his breath.

“God, aren't you unreal with that all that beauty, meant to be painted, yourself?”

Saswin looked down, his cheeks flushed with the unexpected praise.

But he was a man who knew how to dodge compliments with grace and so he said,

“Beauty will perish one day, your highness. But a portrait, will remain. Will you allow me to immortalise those wavy, rebellious locks and the soft yet sturdy cheekbones?”

He had been officially invited yet he was asking for permission for reasons unknown to him. Yet his sincerity as he waited for the prince to answer, touched Manikandan.

He nodded at Saswin and asked, “You will be doing two paintings, am I right? One where I am standing and another one a closed up portrait.”

“Yes, your highness. Absolutely right.” Saswin said with his smile intact.

“How many hours will you take to complete them?” Manikandan wanted to know how long he had to get to know this pleasantly enigmatic painter.

“Eighteen hours, your highness.” Saswin took a moment to calculate before answering.

“Hmm. I will be able to give you only an hour of my day. You'll have to come back for eighteen days. Is that convenient?” Manikandan frowned as he found himself asking Saswin about his convience.

He knew he was treating Saswin differently. Ever since he had been born, a sense of entitlement layered with duty had coloured each relationship of his. But for the first time Manikandan found himself longing to establish a relationship that was not bound by compulsion. But a relationship that flourished on choice. The beloved prince did not know that he was longing for a friend.