Bhanumati held her breath on the eleventh day. On one hand Pitamaha Bheeshma had fallen. That meant that the shield of protection surrounding the Kurus was gone. On the other hand, Bhrata Karna was entering the battlefield. He and Arjun would finally clash on the land of Syamantapanchaka.

And indeed on the eleventh day, the massacre began. None of the Kauravas fell that day. But the children. The children.

More than thirty of them just... gone.

The night was full of the wails of her sisters-in-law mourning their sons and Bhanumati's fear grew. What if--what if she had to join them soon?

She couldn't stop the tears constantly rolling down her face. She wanted to do something, anything to help her sisters in law, but there was nothing.

She found her Lakshman that night and clutched him tight to her chest, refusing to part from him and leave his tent despite his protests. She could lose him. She could lose him so soon and she would be able to do nothing. Even in the past ten days the fear hadn't been so fierce because of Pitamaha, but now.....

Even Duryodhan decided to spend the night in Lakshman's tent.

He had come after comforting all his brothers who had lost their sons that day as best as he could. For the first time since the war had begun, there seemed to be the barest trace of fear on his face. After all, losing children was everybody's worst fate.

("Why did you not use the Shakti astra?" Bhanumati had asked Bhrata Karna desperately that night. It was Arjun who was causing the maximum damage on the battlefield and Lord Indra's weapon was meant specially for him. She would have thought that Bhrata Karna would have used it on the first opportunity.

For a moment Karna seemed to look lost.

"I...I forgot... about...it." He slowly said, in complete disbelief and that was natural because what .

"You what?! " Duryodhan had exclaimed outrageously. "What do you mean you forgot?! You have the weapon that could unequivocally kill your nemesis and you forgot about it?! How could you forget?!" His voice pitched into a shriek by the end.

Bhrata Karna opened and closed his mouth but seemed unable to form a response. "I-I don't know, I--how did I--"

Bhrata Karna forgetting to use a weapon on Arjun that he had specifically received for him?! That was as unnatural as the Sun rising in the West. It was so unnatural in fact, that if she didn't know better, she would have thought some higher powers were at play. But surely not. After the sheer level of interference from Lord Indra, surely the Gods were not further interfering with Bhrata Karna.)

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They lost the twelfth day's battle as well. They lost major warriors that day, like Bhagdutta. Their army still remained greater than that of the Pandavas', but it was from that day that Duryodhan started to fray because it was from that day that his brothers who were born from the same flesh as him and were all like parts of him, started falling.

And of course, more of her nephews got killed as well. She would try to comfort her sisters in law but she didn't even understand who to go to. She tried, but she just felt helpless.

And not only that, Dvipata had also fallen that day, killed by Arjun himself.

When the news came that Dvipata had been killed, with her heart in her throat, Bhanumati had turned to Vrushali di, who had turned pale and had seemed on the verge of collapse. But the fact that her son was actually dead didn't seem to sink in for her until she saw his body, carried in Vrishasena's arms and then she broke down and screamed violently.

Bhanumati who had never seen Vrushali di be anything but calm and composed couldn't understand how to do anything. She knew nothing she could say would lessen her pain and grief and then she had started sobbing herself.

Their camp had never been more disheartened and grief stricken. Yet.

Duryodhan had broken down upon looking at his brothers' bodies before wiping away his tears and stomping away with a newly reestablished manic look on his face. As always, that look made Bhanumati apprehensive.

Also the news was that while Bhrata Karna had fought with Abhimanyu that day, he had been so impressed by the boy's prowess that he had not taken the opportunity to kill him. And well... Arjun had killed Dvipata.

As all his sons and his wife cried over the pyre, Karna looked on with a dark look on his face. His eyes were red and swollen, but he seemed to have run out of tears by now.

She had asked him why he hadn't used the Shakti Astra on Arjun once again because surely he couldn't have forgotten after yesterday's conversation and if he had killed Arjun their victory would have been assured and.... his son would have been alive.

His face had been puzzled and frustrated at the mention of the Shakti astra and he had not answered her, only angrily muttering in disbelief, "I don't know what is happening, am I losing my memory, going senile? Or is something else at play? Is it that--"

Bhanumati couldn't understand anything. Now as she looked at him, he looked tired and the lines on his face seemed to have deepened. It made her realise that he was quite a bit older than her.

"I must go aid in the preparation of tomorrow's battle plan as well." Bhrata Karna now announced in a terribly hoarse voice, briefly running a hand over Vrushali di's head. "Join me in a few hours." He told his sons before following in the same direction as his friend.

As Bhanumati watched him go, she wondered how these warriors could do it. Losing a child was everybody's worst fate and yet all these fathers, even after losing their sons, continued to fight in the war without hesitation. Especially since most of them wouldn't really have anything to gain after this War, except the good graces of the winning King. Her own brother had done it, so many of her brothers in law were doing it and now Bhrata Karna was doing it as well.

She went over to Vrushali di to embrace her and the older woman practically threw herself at her, clutching her tightly and sobbing into her shoulders.

"What am I going to do Bhanu! I've nine sons and as such the probability that I'm going to lose more sons is so high! How will I take it another time?! What if--what if tomorrow--"

"You don't have to worry Ma." Vrishasena growled, stepping forward and placing a hand on his mother's back. "None of us eight will fall tomorrow. We will avenge our brother. We will avenge so many of our Kaurava cousins that we've lost. I'll change my name if a child of the Pandavas doesn't fall tomorrow! They must feel the pain as well!"

Bhanumati breathed sharply. The intensity of Vrishasena's words made them seem almost like a prophecy.

And thinking of Vrushali di's words made her shiver. Losing a child once was bad enough but losing a child more than once? The pain must be unimaginable. But at least Vrushali di still had eight more sons. But...but she had only one son. What...what would she do if anything happened to Lakshman?!

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On the twelfth night, Dronacharya assured the army that they would achieve victory.

He would arrange the army in the most complicated, most dreaded Vyuhs of them all: the Chakravyuh.

Apparently only Arjun and Drupad knew how to break through the Chakravyuh and Arjun would be kept busy on a different front, fighting against the Samasthapakas and Trigarta Naresh Susharma's army. As for Drupad, he and all the other commanders would be held back by Jayadrath who had attained the boon that for one day he could defeat anyone but Arjun.

The Pandava army wouldn't be able to break through the deadly Chakravyuh that would mow through them and then the entrance would finally be kept open for long enough when Yudhishtir was nearby and eventually he would be trapped inside ,perhaps with a couple of protectors, in the inner circle, which would consist of Dronacharya, Karna, Duryodhan, Dussashan, Ashwathama and Kripacharaya. The next three circles would consist of Karna's sons, some of the Kauravas and their children and the other commanders of the army, and then the remainder of the Kauravas and their children would be placed intermittently throughout the Vyuh to instruct the soldiers in their formation.

It seemed like an almost full proof plan and if it worked, their victory would be certain.

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The thirteenth morning dawned cold but bright. There was hope on the faces of the men, hope of victory and of the war finally ending due to Dronacharaya's plan. Bhanumati tried to make herself feel hopeful, but the day seemed very wrong to her.

The cold air pricked her lungs like needles and gooseflesh peppered her arms. The world seemed to be tilted further on its axis than it should have been. For some reason, despite the fact that their army was the most well prepared that day, Bhanumati felt worse than she had ever felt since the beginning of the war.

Bile rose in her throat as she watched the men finish their preparations before they marched onto the battlefield.

They held the trump card that day and yet to her, the very air seemed to indicate that the day would not bode well.

As she performed her daily ritual of blessing her remaining nephews and son, she felt sick.

When Lakshman finally stood before her, she couldn't hold back the tears that filled her eyes.

Her son smiled at her and wiped away her tears.

"Don't cry Mata. We will be the victors today."

Yes, he was right, but her heart couldn't seem to settle.

"Yes, but...my dear I--I can't-- I keep but feel like something is going to go wrong today."

"Something goes wrong everyday for someone, Mata." Lakshman said in his soft voice, that was so unlike his father's. "But we'll win today, and we can finally put an end to these deaths."

"When did you get so wise?" Bhanumati asked him, smiling wetly.

He laughed. "I'm offended Mata, I've always been wise."

Bhanumati sniffled and pulled him into a tight hug.

"What if--what if something happens to you today? What will I do? Today doesn't feel right to me, something's going to go wro--"

"Mata!" Lakshman pulled back and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"We all go to war everyday, knowing that we might get killed. Today is no different."

"It is different, you don't understand, I can feel it--"

"Mata. I will be fine. Whatever is meant to happen to me will happen, and nothing can change that."

"But--" Why would he not understand her desperation?!

"If it reassures you Mata, I'll be in the second innermost circle, well protected by the layers around me. Because Kakashree Arjun won't be there, nobody else should be able to get that far into the Chakravyuh anyway, except when we trap them on purpose, so I should be fine."

And still Bhanumati couldn't help but feel uneasy. However, it was time for the warriors to enter the battlefield, so she merely nodded and placed a kiss on her son's forehead.

As they left, Bhanumati felt someone grasp her hand. It was Chandramukhi.

The other woman pursed her lips.

"I don't feel good about today either, Jiji. Something... something feels worse than usual. Our children are dying left and right. I cannot help but fear--"

"Hush." Bhanumati said quickly. "Don't say it. We must hope for the best. We may even win today. Then we'll not lose anyone anymore."

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Bhanumati paced restlessly in her tent, the silence getting more and more unbearable by the minute.

People died everyday, even family was dying everyday now, but today... seemed worse than all the days before. If the war didn't end today and all the days continued to feel like this, she would go mad.

Then the flap of her tent was pushed aside and a dasi stepped in. Bhanumati did not like the ashen look on her face at all.

"Well? What is the news of the battlefield?" She demanded. "Are we winning?"

The dasi pursed her lips while looking down.

"We were , Yuvrani. The Chakravyuh was battering through the Pandava Army without Rajkumar Arjun but now.."

"But? But what?!"

"It seems that the commanders were unaware that Rajkumar Abhimanyu knows how to break into the Chakravyuh."

Oh, Gods be damned! The plan would not succeed now. But wait...

"What happened to Jayadrath? Wasn't he supposed to prevent anyone else from entering the Chakravyuh like Drupad?"

"Because Rajkumar Abhimanyu was so unexpected, he managed to slip past, but Sindhuraj Jayadrath stopped anyone from following him."

Well. That meant Abhimanyu was alone inside the Chakravyuh. And while certainly she had heard that he was a great warrior and the youngest Maharathi on the battlefield, surely he could not last all alone inside the Chakravyuh? He was not Arjun after all. And while Bhanumati hated thinking about a boy younger than her own son like this, surely he could not withstand the whole Chakravyuh alone? Surely he could not be in a great condition all alone? Why was the dasi so apprehensive then?

"And? What is he doing?"

"Yuvrani, he is too good." The dasi's voice shook. "He has killed tens of thousands of soldiers and some of your nephews already and he has made his way more than halfway through the Chakravyuh and he is decimating the army!"

Bhanumati's knees wobbled and she sank down to the floor with a thump.

She remembered her son's words from this morning.

Because Kakashree Arjun won't be there, nobody else should be able to get that far into the Chakravyuh anyway. I should be fine.

But ..... Abhimanyu was destroying the Chakravyuh and all alone.

Killed some of your nephews already.

No. No. No. Her feeling from this morning had to be wrong. It had to be wrong, it had to be--

Nothing would happen to Lakshman. he would be fine.

Her instinct seemed to disagree though. She pushed it down. He would be fine . He had to be.

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By the time the army returned that day, Bhanumati was sick with worry.

She kept repeating the mantra of 'He will be fine ' in her head and--she had to be right. Any other option was simply not possible.

They had not won, she knew that much. Abhimanyu--that young boy alone had held off six warriors more than twice his age and two of them were Maharathis. He had to be killed in a joint attack that broke all rules of war because while joint attacks were not actually uncommon, in this case, Abhimanyu was without a chariot and without proper weapons.

He had caused too much destruction. He had killed so many of her Kaurava nephews. He alone was what prevented them from achieving an almost certain victory today. He had to be killed. But as a mother, she sent out prayers for him like she had done for all her other nephews.

And as for Lakshman... the only thing still holding her up was that news of his death hadn't arrived earlier like it had for Dvipata and several of her other nephews. She knew that that was not really a qualifier, that sometimes the news didn't arrive beforehand, but-- No. No. Why was she even thinking such things? What kind of a mother was she, just constantly thinking that her son might be dead? No. No, he would come and she would hold him tight, like she did everyday.

The warriors finally plodded their way into the camp, the several bodies being brought in by those who were alive.

None of the Kauravas had died that day at least, Bhanumati thought gratefully.

Her eyes roamed the masses for Duryodhan and Lakshman. Suddenly she heard a loud scream beside her and then a thump.

Chandramukhi had fallen to her knees.

Bhanumati looked up to see-- no . A very battered weary looking Dussashan, with blood and tears coating his face carried his son Durmasa in his arms.

She was bending down to attempt to comfort Chandramukhi in some way when she saw Duryodhan.

His arms were empty and his mace hung limply from one of his hands so for a moment Bhanumati felt a small wave of relief. That must mean Lakshman was fine.

But as she was about to turn back to Chakramukhi, she saw her husband's face. His eyes looked dead. His face was even more ashen that it had been the day before as he had set fire to his brothers' pyre.

He looked like someone had turned him inside out and then rubbed him raw. She had never seen such a look on his face.

The fear returned manyfold. Only one thing could have caused such a look to appear on his face. No. No. Her worries could not have come true.

Her eyes scanned the men. Lakshman had to be standing there, he had to be!

But he wasn't.

Suddenly she found herself looking at Bhrata Karna, who had been hidden amongst the men. And... And... in his arms...

Bhanumati heard the blood rushing in her ears and then she heard no more as she felt the welcoming darkness envelop her.

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Later when she woke up in her tent, she felt completely numb. All the fear, the worry she had been feeling, completely suppressed.

Lakshman would be waiting outside, wouldn't he?

And she would stroke his brow and kiss his head.

As she stepped outside, a few dasis called after her but their voices faded in the background. Her eyes found Duryodhan, dressed in white as all the warriors always were, during the funerals.

He turned to look at her and he had red, swollen eyes and a blotchy face. He was crying. He said something to her but she couldn't hear him.

Her ears rang in a beat that didn't seem to be in sync with the rest of the world.

She walked forward until she was right in front of the pyre he was standing beside.

Lakshman looked like he was sleeping. He looked calm and peaceful like he always did. She stroked his hair and leaned forward to kiss his forehead like she always did. He was just sleeping.

He was just sleeping.

He was just-- "Bhanu--"

Durydhan's voice cracked in through the haze that had surrounded her head and she gasped as she took several steps backwards from the pyre and lost her balance before Vrushali Di caught her.

"Lakshman he--he's--"

"He is--" Duryodhan's voice cracked. "He is gone Bhanu."

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What was the point of anything anymore? Bhanumati wondered as she stood in front of the still burning pyre of her son. She had already cried her heart out after she had snapped out of her daze but now there seemed to be no more tears left in her.

What was the point of this war? Her son was--was dead. So many of her nephews were dead. Around twenty five of her brothers in law were dead. What were they even fighting this war for anymore?

And the world would remember Abhimanyu, for he was the star that burned the brightest but for a tragically short time, as they should, for he deserved it more than any other for his strength, for his bravery, for his valour, but did that mean he was the only one worth remembering? The world would forget her son and the world would not even know about so many others of their generation that fell on the battlefield. Did that mean they were not as brave or that they didn't fight valiantly for their fathers? Did only the grief experienced by the Pandavas matter?

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OH BOY, THIS WAS THE TOUGHEST CHAP IN THE STORY SO FAR. I mean it's depressive but then again, it was meant to be, but it seems a little disjointed and vague to me at times. Lets hope that helps in conveying the emotions better rather than worse lol.

Soooo, have I managed to convey the grief of losing a son properly? Poor Bhanumati, she still has so much much more terrible stuff to face.

Constructive criticism is welcome for this chapter.

Also, I am absolutely NOT, in any way trying to suggest that the Pandavas did not suffer terribly in the war. They absolutely did and they didn't deserve to--Nobody did. But it just annoys me so much that most people don't even stop to consider the other side? Maybe Gandhari, but no one else! Draupadi and Subhadra weren't the only women who suffered ! :(

I wish I could have included Lakshmanaa a little more but she's in Dwarka and basically has no involvement here at all so I couldn't really find a way to include her.  :/

Also I had said last time that the story will tend in two more chaps. But it seems that I will have to write TWO more chaps AFTER THIS for the story to end.

Please don't forget to leave votes and comments if you liked the chapter!