The fifteenth day dawned harsh and chilly, the cold holding down the smoke from last night's pyres, some of which still continued to burn.

The army was tired after the elongated battle of the past day. It was visible in their lethargic movements and in the way the soldiers dragged their feet.

Bhanumati forced herself to go through the routine of applying the sacred tilak on the foreheads of all the men in her family, trying not to pay attention to how few of those remained compared to the beginning. It was almost impossible though. Thirty five Kauravas remained and only thirty nine of her nephews compared to the original one hundred fifty three.

She knew that she shouldn't lose hope till the end, till Guru Drona and Bhrata Karna were still alive and fighting, but she couldn't help but feel like they were going to lose the War.

Well, she and so many other mothers had already lost the war.

Duryodhan and Dronacharaya had gotten into another argument that dawn about the older man supporting the Pandavas. Once again it had ended with Guru Drona swearing to prove his loyalty to the Kaurava side.

Feeling bone weary, she headed towards the healing camps once the men had departed for battle hoping to keep herself distracted by helping there.

Defeat had started sinking into her bones prematurely. It did not suit a Kshatrani to feel as though her side of battle would be defeated until a moment before it did, but Bhanumati couldn't help it.

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That night when the warriors returned, there was a subdued hush all over.

Defeat seemed to echo in their footsteps.

Only eighteen Kaurava brothers remained. And twenty five children. In five days, eighty-eight Kauravas and a hundred and twenty eight of their children had died. But Bhanumati had to numb herself to the pain so that she could comfort her sisters.

Banasena had been killed by Bheem as well. Vrushali di was dead on her feet by now.

But that, it seemed, was not the reason for the defeated nature of the army.

In the center of the returning party, laden by pall bearers was the body and severed head of Dronacharya.

Bhanumati gasped. Another commander of theirs had fallen and yet Drishtadyumna was still alive and unharmed even as his and Yagyaseni's father had been killed by his once friend.

Ashwathama followed behind and Duryodhan had an arm around his shoulders. Ashwathama's steps were slow but his face was thunderous.

It seemed that once again the Pandavas, the so-called upholders of Dharma in this war, had broken the rules and killed an unarmed Dronacharya after lying to him about his son's death.

Bhanumati was horrified. How could one lie to someone about their child's death? Especially to their Guru?

All the cousins fighting in this war were capable of fighting because of Guru Drona's training. Guru Drona had always favoured the Pandavas. He had always loved Arjun. And the Pandavas did this to him?!

Even the so-called Dharmaraj Yudhishtir lied? To his teacher?! It was unfathomable. And Bheem and Arjun had both lost a son each. They must have known what that grief felt like. And they still committed such treachery.

Everybody lies, Bhanumati thought, when they say that the Pandavas are upholders of Dharma.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ashwathama took an oath that night to destroy the Pandavas and their lineage. The Brahmin who had been level-headed and calm and kind for his entire life took an oath that night, which would cause him to commit the greatest sin in the Great War of Sins.

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"I'm sorry, old friend." Bhrata Karna told Ashwathama, who had finally calmed down enough that Duryodhan had been able to wrangle him into their tent.

The Panchalraj laughed bitterly.

"You, who my father never liked, apologise to me for his death, while all his favourites plotted it in such a treacherous manner."

Feeling woefully inadequate, Bhanumati said, "If you wish to talk about it, Panchalraj.... I'm here. I've lost my father as well after all, though of course, the circumstances were very different."

Ashwathama shook his head wryly.

"I thank you for the consideration My Lady, but I believe it would be best if I keep it to myself. I am far too bitter right now. I do not wish to infect others with it as well, especially since everyone is already grieving."

"Don't be ridiculous." Duryodhan stated point blank. "We are here to listen to you, to support you, no matter what. That's what friends are for."

Ashwathama's lips twisted.

"Yes well, for all your faults, you've always been a good friend. Shame that can't be said for everyone present here." As he said the last part, to her shock, his eyes drifted to Bhrata Karna for a moment.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Duryodhan demanded.

"I'm sorry." Ashwathama said, in all fairness, looking like he truly meant it. "I should not have said that. I know I am bitter, but that is not an excuse."

"No, you should not have." Duryodhan said hotly. "Karna is the best friend I could have--"

"He is right." Bhrata Karna said quietly. "I have not been a very good friend to you."

"That's nonsense!" Duryodhan protested and Bhanumati agreed. Bhrata Karna not being a good friend was like the Sun rising from the west.

"I love you, Duryodhan." Karna said. "But I loved you so much and feared losing our friendship so much that I did not stop you from walking on the path to your own destruction."

He stood up in the following silence and turned his face away from Duryodhan's gaping mouth.

"Come Duryodhan, Ashwathama. We must prepare for tomorrow's battle."

Ah, right. She had almost forgotten. Bhrata Karna would be their Commander-in-Chief now. He did not even take time to grieve anymore. Perhaps he feared that if he let himself break now, he would never be able to put himself back again.

Bhanumati felt the same and she suspected that so did almost everyone else. Allowing the grief to overpower themselves was no way to survive a war, even for those who were not actually fighting in it.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As the sixteenth day dawned, Duryodhan was left with only one real line of defence-- Bhrata Karna.

Bhanumati knew that as long as he remained alive, so would Duryodhan. But while once that thought was a reassurance, now it filled her with terror.

She had thought that Pitamaha Bheeshma and Guru Drona were undefeatable but they had been killed by trickery, so who was to say that Bhrata Karna wouldn't fall victim to the same?

Her father had died long back. She had now lost her son, her brother and so many nephews and brothers in law in this battle. What would she do if she lost Duryodhan as well? If she lost Bhrata Karna well? If she lost Dussashan as well? What would Chandramukhi do?

How would she live? Who would she live for?

She embraced Duryodhan tightly that morning, unwilling to let him go. When he finally gently extricated himself from her grip, she did not ask for any promises of safety. There was no point anymore. She merely brushed her lips against his and caressed his hair before he left to put on his armour and ready for battle.

A cold fist seemed to be permanently clenched within her chest now, making it difficult to breathe.

Eventually Bhanumati walked towards Bhrata Karna and Vrushali Di's tent and waited for them to step out. It was Vrushali who had strapped Karna into his battle gear each day of the war. He had never been armourless in his life before and now that he was, he did not trust anyone but his wife to armour him again.

When they stepped out, she went and clasped Karna's hands. But suddenly all words seemed to have fled her and she didn't know what she should or could have said to him, for asking him to look after Duryodhan would have simply been redundant( and as for looking after himself... well he was now the strongest warrior on their side. If he couldn't look after himself, nobody else could). But it seemed she didn't need to say anything.

Bhrata Karna's eyes softened and he pulled her into an embrace and placed a comforting hand on her head.

He did not say anything either but it was clear that he understood.

That dawn, as she prayed for the warriors, the wind picked up and howled as if Pawan Dev himself was showing his rage. That did not bode well at all, given who his son was. But that was hardly a novelty at this point.

Bhrata Karna roared out his speech and somehow managed to invigorate the tired army to fight again. And Bhanumati would never understand how any general ever managed to do this.

She had no idea how Bhrata Karna could encourage others, let alone himself to fight, when he was grieving his sons and so many others who were like his nephews. How Duryodhan managed it. How Dusshashan managed it. How any of the warriors and common soldiers managed it, especially since the latter knew that their chances on the battlefield each day was almost entirely decided by whether luck favoured them.

(She thought about how Bhrata Karna's cadence as he spoke to his army shockingly resembled Pitamaha Bheeshma's a little, as if the younger man had almost been inspired by him, but that was of course, impossible. It almost brought a ghost of a smile to her lips, thinking of how both the aforementioned men would have loathed the comparison so much.)

Once the men left and the war conches blared, all Bhanumati could do was sit in front of the Shivalinga with her sisters-in-law and Vrushali di. She had barely any hope left now. She no longer cared who won the war. All she wanted, all she begged to the Gods was to spare her at least some reason to live. With all those closest to her dead, what would she even live for?

GUYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. GUYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYS. CAN YOU BELIEVE I'M UPDATING?! I CANNOT. I STILL HAVE ENTRANCE EXAMS LEFT. IDK WHAT WILL HAPPEN I HAVE TO STUDY SO MUCH, BUT SIMPLY COULDN'T NOT WRITE ANYMORE.

I HAD MOST OF THIS WRITTEN ALREADY SO I JUST FINISHED UP THE LAST FEW PARAGRAPHS AND AM POSTING THIS AAAHH.

Shorter chapter this time, I knowwwwww. But like I said no time, and this is a very surprise update, for me as well. As for how many chapters left. I say two every time. And then. IT'S NEVER TWO.

Idk what I'll do about my exams aaaahhh. They're not going very well :( Physics and Maths always drag me down to the bottom. And as for the non Maths exam.... that was.... NEET... and this time as you all must know, NEET was 🤡🙃🫠🤡 I have NO idea where I'll get selected, IF I'll get selected ughhh.

So wish me luck!

And as always, I'll wait for your votes and comments if you liked the chapter!

(Also those of who have read my other fic "In the Wake of the War", I'm so sorry but there's no incoming update for that. I have simply no time. Like I said, this was already mostly written and is a shorter chapter anyway.)

If there's any discrepancy as to how the beginning and end of the chapter feel like, it's because the beginning was written months ago and I simply do not have the energy or time to change anything.