Geyarajan (Gandharva)

Rating: Teen
Relationship: Female Human/Male Gandharva
Additional Tags: Exophilia, Gandharva, Childhood Sweethearts, Puppy Love
Content Warnings: Blood, Broken Limb, Separation, Memory lapse
Words: 4600

A commission for @floral-and-fine​, who did the lovely artwork above of Geyarajan! An angsty story about childhood love that gets torn apart by family, race, and circumstance! Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler’s Masterlist

In Hinduism, the Gandharvas are male nature spirits and husbands of the Apsaras, the spirits of clouds and air. Some are part animal, usually a bird or horse. They have superb musical skills; they guard the Soma and make beautiful music for the gods in their palaces. Gandharvas are frequently depicted as singers in the court of the gods.

Gandharvas in the historic sense acted as messengers between the gods and humans; today they are depicted as imitators, cheaters, liars and those who have tricked themselves ‘into being god’. In Hindu law, a gandharva marriage is one contracted by mutual consent and without formal rituals.

You couldn’t remember exactly how old you were, perhaps six or seven, when you first met Geyarajan. You’d heard singing in the forest as you played in the garden behind your house, and though you knew you shouldn’t go into the woods alone, you couldn’t ignore the draw of the sound. After maybe ten minutes, you stumbled upon a clearing wherein a boy was singing, though he was unlike any other child you’d ever met.

Your village was human only; beasts and monsters were not allowed to settle there. In fact, non-human merchants were discouraged from selling their wares in the area and non-human travelers weren’t welcome in the taverns or inns. In your short life, you’d only seen a person who wasn’t human maybe twice, and only in passing. You didn’t quite understand why, but you were a small child and didn’t think to question it.

Not until you met Geyarajan. When you first saw him, you were mesmerized by his music. You sat and listened as still as a statue, afraid of spooking him, except when he stopped singing, he looked right at you and smiled as if he’d been waiting for you to come. He hopped off the rock where he had been sitting, and you got a better look at him.

He wore no clothing, but from the waist down, he was all feathers. His legs were long and spindly, ending in three-toed claws like that of a purple heron. The feathers extended up his back to his large wings, heather-grey in color, which were folded at rest behind him.

His hair was long and falling around his shoulders in ringlets, the same heather-gray as his feathers. He had a four streaks of black, two on each side, running down his neck, one stripe down his arms to his wrists, the other down the inside of his shoulders and disappearing into the feathers near his hips. His skin was dark brown and his eyes were sharp in shape, amber-gold in color, and hawk-like.

Though he was much taller than you because of his long legs, in his face, he looked to be about your age, perhaps slightly older. He was slender and graceful in his movements, taking careful steps toward you as if not to scare you, though you didn’t think you could possibly be afraid of him.

“Aren’t you from the village?” He asked, his speaking voice as musical as his song suggested. “Won’t you be in trouble for coming into the woods? My parents say that humans are scared of the woods.”

“I’m not scared,” You said, puffing up. “Papa says I’m a big girl. I can go to the corner store all by myself now. I only came ‘cause I heard you singing.”

“Oh,” He said, frowning. “I must be too close, then. I should go.”

“Wait!” You reached out, grabbing his hand. “Stay and play with me, won’t you? What’s your name?”

“Geyarajan,” He replied, not attempting to break away from your grasp. “You’re the girl who lives in the house near the river, right? What’s your name?”

You told him. “How do you know me?”

“I’ve seen you sometimes,” He said, leading you to the rock where he was sitting before. There was a bushel of flowers laying there. He began to weave them into a ring. “When I fly above the town. I know you from the ribbons.” He tugged at the blue ribbon you wore in your hair, which matched your pristine dress. Your mother insisted on dressing you like a doll, always making you wear frilly dresses and putting ribbons in your hair.

“You can fly?” You whispered in awe.

“Well, sure,” He laughed, fluffing his wings a little. “These aren’t fake, you know. I have to fly pretty high, so the only thing I can see of you clearly is the ribbons.”

“Why do you fly so high?” You asked him.

“Mother says it’s too dangerous to fly too low over the town,” Geyarajan said. “She says the people don’t like us, that they’d be mean to us if they knew we lived in the forest next to them.”

“Oh. That’s a shame. If it’s dangerous, why don’t you move?”

“Our kind lived in these woods before those humans ever settled here,” He said, pointing toward the village. “Why should we have to leave?”

“That makes sense, I guess,” You admitted. “I don’t see people like you in town. It’s only humans. I don’t know why.”

“Mother and Father say it’s because humans hate us,” He said morosely, looking at his hands as he continued to weave the garland. “Do you hate us?”

“No!” You said. “You’re so pretty! Can I… Can I touch your wings? I’ve never met a person with wings before.”

He regarded you warily, but said, “Okay, but only for a minute. Mother says our wings are a sign of divinity, that they make us holy.”

“Divine? Like an angel?”

“What’s an angel?”

You tried to explain what an angel was to him, but he just looked confused.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Do you want to touch my wings or not?” He asked impatiently.

“Yes, yes!” You exclaimed. You reached out tentatively and ran your fingertips gently down his proffered wing. He watched you carefully, his hands stilling in their work.

“Wow,” You breathed. “It’s so hard to believe they’re real.”

“Well, they are,” He sniffed, eyeing you. “It’s weird.”

“What is?”

“Well, I’ve never met a human, but my parents said they’re all cruel and heartless. They call your kind monsters, but you seem nice.”

“I am nice,” You replied. “I’m friends with everyone in town. I want to be your friend, too. Can I call you Rajan?”

“Why?”

“It’s a nickname!” You said. “It means we’re friends.”

“Oh,” He replied. “Yeah, I guess so. Can I give you a nickname?”

“Sure!”

“Alright, how about…” He looked around for inspiration and his eyes fell on the flowers in his lap. There were wild daisies, coneflowers, purple poppies, blanket flowers, black-eyed susans, and blush-pink primroses. “What about Primrose?”

“I love it!” You said excitedly. “Primrose and Rajan.”

Rajan giggled.

“What’s funny?”

“Well, my whole name, Geyarajan, means ‘king of songs,’” He replied, finishing the crown of flowers and placing it on his head. “But Rajan just means ‘king.’”

You giggled too. “I like that! You can be the king of the primroses! It’ll be a kingdom just for us!”

“Sounds fun!” He said. “Let’s play Kings and Flowers, then!”

“That’s not a real game!”

“Is too! I just made it up!”

The two of you played until it started to get dark, then Rajan escorted you home. He stopped about thirty feet away from the treeline, where you could hear your mother calling.

“I can’t go closer,” He said, still wearing the flower crown. He took it off and placed it on your head. “You should run home now. I’ll watch you to make sure you stay safe.”

“Alright,” You said brightly, standing on your tip-toe to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you again soon!”

He blushed and touched his cheek, frozen. You laughed joyfully and ran back to the garden behind your house.

“There you are!” Your mother shouted as you came out from around the house. “Where have you been? Look at the state of your dress!” She fussed. “It’s ruined! Do you know how long it took me to sew that?”

“Just make me a normal dress, Mama,” You said. “A plain one I can play in.”

“Nonsense,” Your mother said, taking your hand. “I’ll not have my daughter wallowing in the muck like some street urchin. To the bath with you!”

As she dragged you along into the house, your lovely flower crown slipped from your head and floated away on the breeze.

“Oh, Mama, my crown!”

“Leave it,” She said.

“Oh, but it was–” You stopped short before saying a present. You didn’t want your mother asking from whom. You watched as it floated into the road and was trampled by a passerby. Sighing with disappointment, you followed your mother inside.

Geyarajan became your best friend from that day on. You had to be careful, though; you couldn’t go too deep into the forest for fear of dangerous creatures and he couldn’t get too close to the village, or he’d be seen and possibly captured by the townspeople. As such, you could only see each other once a week or so, and on the days you agreed to meet, often you’d sneak out to play for a few hours after bed.

Having a secret friend was thrilling. It made you feel special and important. He’d told you that he hadn’t told his parents about you, either, because he didn’t want them to be mad at him for getting so close to humans. It was as if the pretend kingdom the two of you built together was real, and you were the only two in it.

It didn’t take long at all for you to develop a crush on Geyarajan, and it seemed to be mutual. He always held your hand whenever the two of you walked together and you often gave him quick pecks on the lips to see the surprise and delight on his face. It was the pure, innocent love of childhood, and though your time together was limited, you were both happy.

Of course, secrets are never meant to last.

Time passed. One evening when you were eleven, after you’d snuck out to see him, the two of you were stargazing in a clearing, making up constellations, your fingers intertwined loosely.

“See there,” He said. “That’s the raven. It’s good luck.”

“Who says?” You asked, laughing.

“I say!” Rajan said. “I’m a king, aren’t I?”

“Oh, right,” You replied. “Papa calls that the eagle. And that’s the dog star.”

“Why do they call it the dog star?”

“I don’t know,” You said. “Tell me another one.”

He squinted. “I can’t see it all that well from here. I usually look at the stars from up in the trees. It’s harder to see them all clearly on the ground like this.”

“How high up do you go?”

“The top, obviously,” He said, sitting up and pointing straight up to a nearby oak tree. “The tallest, strongest branch. That’s the best place.”

“I’d be scared to go that high,” You said, shivering a little.

“I could help you,” He said. “I’d fly you up there.”

“Aren’t I too heavy?” You asked him skeptically. “I was the last time you tried to lift me.”

“That was a year ago! I’m much stronger now.” He hopped to his taloned feet and flexed his skinny arms. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Are you sure?” You asked as you took his hand.

“Come on, you trust me, right?”

You straightened up and smiled at him. “Yeah, of course I do.”

He grinned back. “I won’t be able to take off from the ground,” He said. “We’ll have to climb up a little ways so I can do a drop. I’m really good at those.”

You frowned at the thought, but since he knew way more about flying than you did, you didn’t argue. Swallowing down your nervousness, you followed him up the tree.

You hadn’t known how to climb a tree when you first met him; your mother had forbade such things. Geyarajan had decided immediately that it was inappropriate for anyone to be unable to climb a tree and taught you how to do it the second time you met. You got pretty scraped up the first few times, which you had a hard time explaining away. Now, you were an expert. You were even able to keep leaves and dirt off of your nightgown.

Of course, Geyarajan was much faster than you, since he’d been climbing trees before he could even walk. We was already on the branch he planned to launch from, waiting patiently for you to catch up. He wasn’t above heckling you, though.

“Are all humans as slow as you?” He teased. “I could be halfway to the coast by the time you get up here.”

You stopped for a moment to blow a raspberry at him. In the few seconds that you were distracted, you misstepped, your foot sliding out of your evening slipper and catching you off balance.

Geyarajan leapt, reaching out to catch you, but he was too late. You fell straight down, landing on your right leg. It snapped in half upon impact. The pain shot up your body and struck your brain, and you screamed like you never had before. Geyarajan landed next to you, panicking, trying to figure out what to do. You were crying too hard to speak.

“Hold on, Primrose, hold on,” He lifted you as carefully as he could and began to run through the woods. The pain and smell of blood made you violently sick. “I’m taking you home, just hold on.”

“No!” You managed to gasp. “You can’t go there!”

“I won’t be able to stay, but I can get you there, I promise,” He said.

“No!” You said, beginning to struggle, squealing as the movement made the pain worse. “They’ll kill you! You can’t go to the village!”

Geyarajan stopped in his tracks, breathing hard and looking toward the village and back into the forest.

“I’ll get into a lot of trouble, but there’s only one other place I can take you,” He said, sweating and shaking with fear. “Hold on to me. We’ll be there soon.”

What happened next was a blur of pain, color, noise, voices, and a terrible sick feeling throughout your body, the only familiar thing through all of it was the sound of Geyarajan’s voice and his hand holding yours. At some point, you blacked out completely.

You woke up to the sound of screaming. You were lying in the back garden of your own home, a large, grey feather in your hand, and your mother rushing over to you, checking you frantically.

“Oh, god, are you okay?!” She asked. “Where have you been? What happened to you?” She saw your leg and shrieked. “Who did this to you?!”

Her shouting had attracted the attention of several men, all of whom looked tired and held burned out torches. One of them dropped their spent torch and lifted you up, carrying you into the house. There was noise and shouting and confusion all around you, made worse by your mother’s constant shrill crying in the background. You let them do as they will in silence, clutching Geyarajan’s feather.

Your leg hurt, but nowhere as badly as it had before. You looked down and saw to your surprise that the leg had been wrapped set, wrapped in cloth to stem the bleeding, and was in a makeshift splint made of straight wooden rods and vines.

The physician was called and examined your leg. During this time, you learned you’d been missing for four days. The men with torches were part of the search party, tirelessly searching the woods for any trace of you. When they found blood on the grass and a fragment of your clothes, along with several large feathers, they thought some massive monster had gobbled you up.

The physician determined that your leg had been expertly set, however, meaning it was no monster that had taken you. Since you couldn’t remember most of your time missing, you kept silent, which made everyone grim-faced. They assumed the worst and decided someone had taken you and kept you in the woods somewhere, and you were so traumatized by the incident that you’d blocked the entire event out. You couldn’t exactly argue with them, but you knew Rajan would never hurt you. Not that you could tell them that.

The search began anew, only this time it wasn’t retrieval. It was revenge. You wished you could tell them that it wasn’t necessary, you wanted to stop them, but you couldn’t do anything without telling them about Rajan and his people, and you had promised never to do so. So you could only watch anxiously as the townsfolk worked themselves into a froth, looking for a predator that didn’t exist.

Bedridden and helpless to stop the villagers from their crusade, you spent many nights crying and wishing you could see Rajan. It was too dangerous now; you thought you wouldn’t see him for a long time. You were surprised when, a week later, Rajan came straight to your window late one night. He opened it and hopped down.

“Rajan!” You breathed, elated, and reached out your arms to embrace him from the bed. He stayed out of your reach. You couldn’t see his face well in this light, but his body radiated distrust.

“How could you?” He said whispered, pain seeping into his voice. “I thought you were my friend. How could you do this to me?”

You dropped your arms. “Wha… How could I what?”

“You know what!” He retorted angrily, his voice rising in anger. “You told them! You told the humans about us! You told them where to find us!”

“I didn’t!” You replied, stricken. “I would never, you know that! I never told them anything!”

“Liar!” He snapped. “Men came! They set fire to our colony! We have no home now because of you!”

You ignored the pain in your leg and swung around to sit up properly. “I didn’t tell them anything! I don’t even know where your colony is! I’ve never been there!”

“You’re lying! You were there! My parents cared for you, they fixed your leg! This is how you repay their kindness?”

“What?” You replied, confused. “I… no, I… I don’t… I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything. The last memory I have before waking up in the garden was you carrying me. We argued because I didn’t want you to come to the village. I was worried you’d get hurt–”

“Stop,” He said, raising a hand. “Enough of this. My parents were right. You can never trust a human.”

“Don’t say that! How could you have so little faith in me? We’ve been friends since we were little! I’d never do anything to put you or your family in danger, you know that! Why would I do that?”

The light from the moon caught his face, and the pain in his eyes stopped your heart.

“You tell me.”

He climbed up onto the windowsill, walked out on the roof, unfurled his wings, and took off. You fell to the ground with a loud thump. Your father came in to find you sobbing in anguish. He lifted you and put you back to bed, petting your hair and telling you it would be alright. But it wouldn’t.

You decided that once you were healed, you’d go and find Rajan and keep protesting your innocence until he believed you. You didn’t count on your parents’ plans.

Another week passed, and your mother came into your room.

“How are you feeling, love?” She asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. You’d been sullen and depressed since Rajan’s visit. Everyone assumed it was because of your disappearance and you made no attempt to correct them. The guilt of his family’s home being destroyed weighed heavily on your mind. If only you hadn’t tried to climb that tree.  

“I’m sorry, darling,” She said. “I can’t believe monsters were living right next door to us in the woods. It’s become too dangerous in this place. Look at what they did to you!”

“They helped me!” You shouted. “They’re not monsters!”

Your mother rounded on you, her face pinching in suspicion. “How would you know that? What do you know about them?”

You scowled at her and remained silent.

“I knew you were lying when you said you couldn’t remember anything.” She stood up and looked down her nose at you. “That does it. We’re moving to Dunmountain.”

“What?!” You cried. “No! I don’t want to move!”

“The decision has already been made,” She told you, pulling out your luggage and starting to pack. “Your father and I can’t abide those disgusting creatures living so close.”

“But there are people like them in the city!” You argued.

“There are rules for them there,” Your mother said. “Most of them are ring fighters or laborers. They don’t practically nest  in the backyards of decent people.”

“Who said you were decent?” You screamed. “You can’t make me go!”

“Who’s going to stop me?” She shouted back. “Your father has agreed. We’re going!” She threw your bag on the floor next to your bed. “Pack your things yourself!” With that, she turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her and leaving you to weep bitterly into your blanket.

You had no choice. Within the month, you were all packed and in a wagon headed to the city. You had become withdrawn and quiet, unlike the girl you had been before. Your father worried over you, but your mother told you to suck it up and get over it. New city, new life, new start.

She was more right than she knew. In the city, you were a new person. The cheerful child that was friends with everyone she met was gone. You were shy, introverted, and taciturn, only speaking when spoken to. You found it difficult to make friends and were quick to tears.

Your mother, in an effort to desensitize you to “monsters,” took you to the gladiator’s ring and made you watch them fight each other. You hated it; the sight of them viciously attacking each other for no other purpose than to entertain humans made you physically ill.

As you got older, the people of your neighborhood began to call you the monster girl because of your tendency to go to the ring and talk to the fighters. Just talk. Some of them were willing participants, but there were others who were forced to fight. People with debt, criminals, the homeless, the mentally ill; anyone society deemed abnormal. Their jailers seemed to forget that they were still people.

You’d often sit outside of their cells and talk to them, comfort them, even write down messages to give to their loved ones. Your mother despaired of you, and the humans thought you were weird, but the creatures of the fighting ring called you an angel.

One day, when you were nineteen, there was a new arrival at the jail, a young woman with wings and bird feet. When you were told, you immediately went to see her first.

“Hello?” You called softly, tapping gently on one of the bars.

“Who are you?” She asked.

You told her your name. “I come here to talk to the fighters and help them when I can. What’s your name?”

“Aashiyana,” She replied. “You can help me?”

“I can try,” You replied. “Why are you here?”

“I caught a deer in a field near my home,” She said. “It was apparently owned by a nobleman or something. What kind of person owns a deer?”

“People with too much money,” You replied, laughing. “How long is your sentence?”

“Until my fine is up. Six months, I think they said.”

“How much is the fine?”

“300 gold.”

“That’s highway robbery!” You exclaimed. “Let me see what I can work out.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” She said. “This city is stifling. I hate it here.”

“So do I,” You replied, standing. You were about to turn and leave, but you were compelled to ask. “By any chance, do you know a boy named Geyarajan?”

Aashiyana sat up straighter and peered at you. “I did know a boy by that name, yes.”

Your heart hammered in your throat. “Did?”

“He doesn’t go by that name anymore. His name is Gaveshan now.”

“Why did he change his name?” You asked.

“How do you know him?”

“He saved my life years ago. He… was my friend.”

Her eyes widened and jaw dropped. “Are you Primrose?”

Your expression matched hers. “Yes! How did you know about that?”

“We met!” She said, her eyes lighting up. “Your leg was broken and my mother set it. She was the colony’s healer. You stayed in the colony with us until she felt it was safe to move you.”

“I don’t remember,” You told her. “I don’t remember anything. I was with Rajan when I broke my leg, and then I passed out. When I woke up again, I was back home and I’d been missing for four days. I don’t know what happened during that time.”

Aashiyana frowned. “You don’t remember me at all?”

You shook your head sadly. “I’m sorry. What happened to the colony?” You asked her, putting a hand on hers around the bars. “Rajan told me that it was burned, but he didn’t give me any details.”

“Men came out of the forest with torches. They set fire to everything. We had to flee with nothing. Some didn’t make it.”

“Oh, god,” You said, covering your mouth in horror. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t fallen out of the tree…”

“Did you tell the men how to find us?”

“No! I swear I didn’t! I don’t even remember being there!” You said. “I swear, Aashiyana, I swear on my life.”

He deep brown eyes searched yours for a moment, a discerning look on her face, and she said, “I believe you.”

Your face crumpled as the tears began to flow. “Thank you.” You wiped your face on a handkerchief and straightened yourself. “Let me see what I can do for you. I’ll get you out of here.”

“Thank you,” She said.

It took some time, but you managed to make a deal with the judge. It was a lucky thing that your parents were in good standing with the stadium, as your father was a financier, so you were able to pull a few favors. You returned to Aashiyana’s cell three days later and directed the jailor to open the door.

“What’s happened?”

“I’ve made a deal,” You said. “You’re free of the fighting ring, but in exchange, you must work. I’ve made arrangements for you. I’ll tell you about it once we’re in the carriage.”

“Carriage?”

You took her by the arm. “Come on.”

Outside the jail, a carriage was indeed waiting for you. You opened the door and assisted her in getting inside, as the steps weren’t built for her large claws, and got inside after her. The carriage began to move.

“So what deal did you make?” She asked.

“You are to be my personal servant for the remainder of your sentence.”

She balked. “What makes you think I want to be a slave any more than a punching bag?”

“I have no intention of giving you any order,” You told her. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll like you to take me to see Geyarajan. Or Gaveshan, I guess.”

“Do I have to stay with you?” She asked, eyeing you.

“Of course not,” You replied. “You’re free to go as soon as we get out of the city limits, as far as I’m concerned. I have no intention of ordering you around.”

“Can’t you get into trouble for this?”

“Of course. The penalty for assisting a criminal escape is taking their sentence plus five years.”

“If you know that’s going to happen when you come back, why would you do it?” She asked you, horrified.

“Simple. I’m not coming back.”

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