Chapter 9
Arjun jolted awake, his chest heaving as though a boulder had pressed against his ribs.
His heart pounded wildly, and the sting of unshed tears blurred his vision.
He inhaled sharply, a futile attempt to steady himself, but the pain inside him pulsed, sharp and relentless.
Draupadi
Her name crawled through his mind like an unwelcome ghost. His lips curled into a snarl, frustration bubbling under his skin.
How could he still think of her?
After all these years—after everything she had done, after everything she had left him with—why did her memory still have the power to break him?
The dream had been so vivid, so painfully real. It wasn't a nightmare, not even close. It was a memory.
A sweet, intoxicating memory from a time when his heart hadn't yet hardened, when he still believed in the love they once shared.
The softness of her touch, the way her eyes had glowed like embers when she laughed...
It was the girl he had met all those years ago, the one who had made him feel alive, the one who had tethered him to something more than duty and war.
But that was a lie now, wasn't it?
Arjun groaned, running his fingers through his tangled hair, tugging hard at the roots, as if the pain could ground him in the present, could stop his mind from spiraling further into that treacherous past.
The agony inside his chest was unbearable. He cursed himself. Cursed her.
She had been everything to him once. Her beauty, her grace, her fire—they had captivated him in ways he hadn't known were possible.
They had shared moments that had carved themselves into his very soul. But now, every recollection felt like a dagger.
Every smile she had gifted him, every word of love they exchanged, was nothing more than a cruel reminder of how it all shattered.
She had left him with nothing but an empty space where his heart had once thrummed with life.
He wasn't a fool—he knew the cost of love, knew that hearts could be broken, but Draupadi's betrayal had been deeper than that. It had hollowed him out, left him with a hatred so fierce that it threatened to consume him.
Yet, here he was, heart aching from a dream of her.
Arjun let out a choked scream, his fingers tangling tighter in his hair as he yanked, hoping the physical pain would drown out the emotional.
It didn't.
Instead, memories continued to flood his mind, crashing over him like a relentless wave. He saw her again—the girl he met today, and the girl from his past.
The faces blurred, their features intertwining until he could no longer separate them. His vision swam with the image of her, smiling softly, her voice a melody that once soothed his soul. But now, her image felt like poison.
"I hate you," he muttered, his voice breaking as his throat burned. "I hate you for what you did to me."
Yet, even as he spat the words, he knew it wasn't true. The hatred he felt toward her was real, yes, but it was his own helplessness that he despised even more. How could he still care? How could he still ache for her, after all this time?
He pushed himself to his feet, chest still tight with emotion, and paced the room, desperate to shake the feeling off. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale filled with pain. He was suffocating, drowning in his own fury and longing.
His eyes scanned the dark room, as if searching for something—anything—to pull him from the memories that clung to him like shackles.
With a harsh growl, he flung open the door and strode out into the night. The cold air hit him like a slap to the face, momentarily grounding him in the present. But it wasn't enough.
He needed to move. He needed to run, to feel the earth beneath his feet, to chase the wind as if he could somehow outrun his past. He needed to forget her.
Arjun's legs carried him swiftly through the corridors of the palace and out into the training grounds, his breath visible in the cool night air.
His heart was still racing, but it wasn't from the run. It was from the memory of her—Draupadi—the woman who had once been his everything, and now, the woman who haunted his every step.
He ran harder, faster, hoping that with every step he could leave behind the ache she caused. But no matter how fast he ran, the pain clung to him like a shadow, unshakable and ever-present.
***
Draupadi sat slumped against the ancient tree in the quiet gardens of Dwarka, hidden beneath its thick, protective canopy.
The celebration had been over leaving behind just a peaceful silence, she had walked all the way here...with the aim to visit the healer, but he body could no longer take her further.
The night air was cool, but it did little to soothe the burning pain that radiated from her body.
Her back pressed against the rough bark, the spot where the assassin's blade had struck her throbbed with every breath.
Blood, sticky and warm, still trickled down from the back of her head, matting her hair.
Her side, where the assassin had landed a vicious blow, ached with a dull, relentless pain that matched the throbbing in her limbs.
She could feel bruises, burns, and cuts all over her body, each adding to her exhaustion.
She had managed to get this far, just a small victory in a fight for survival.
She wanted to make it to her chambers, to find the safety of her own room, but her legs had given up on her, and her body was too tired to carry her any further.
She had promised herself just five minutes of rest beneath this tree. She closed her eyes, waiting for the energy to return. That had been... how long ago?
She couldn't remember.
Time had blurred together, and so had her thoughts. Her head was dizzy, her vision swam, and every breath felt like an effort.
She tilted her head back, feeling the bark of the tree scratch against her scalp, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
She could feel the cold seeping through her skin as blood trickled from the gash on the back of her head and the wound on her side. Her fingers, once elegant and graceful, were now stained crimson.
Her limbs ached, her breathing shallow, and the world spun in dizzying circles around her. She had wanted to go back to her room, but her body had refused. Just five minutes, she had promised herself.
Just a brief rest.
How long ago had that been? She couldn't remember. Everything was blurry. She felt heavier with each passing second, her eyelids fluttering shut against her will.
Yet, through the haze of pain and exhaustion, there was something more unbearable, something deeper than the physical agony she endured. It was the ache in her heart.
Arjun.
His name echoed in her mind, and with it came a flood of memories she had fought to keep buried. Today, he had reappeared in her life, like a storm she wasn't prepared for, and all those wounds she had sealed away over the years were suddenly ripped open, raw and bleeding.
She had promised herself she wouldn't think about him, that she had moved on. But it was a lie.
Her vision blurred, and she blinked, trying to shake off the heaviness, the dizziness, but then—there he was.
Not the man he had become today, hardened and distant, but the boy she had fallen in love with. Seventeen-year-old Arjun, standing before her, a smirk playing on his lips.
His skin glowed with youth, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and his strong, lean body was wrapped in the light armor of a young warrior, proud and ready to take on the world.
"Seriously, Draupadi?" His voice was teasing, just like it had always been. "This is where you choose to die? Under a tree in the middle of nowhere? Not very poetic, don't you think?"She blinked at him, her heart lurching. "You... you're not real." Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper.
He grinned, that infuriatingly charming grin she remembered all too well. "I'm as real as you want me to be." He crouched down in front of her, his face inches from hers. "Look at you. Blood all over. And here I thought you were invincible."
She huffed, though it came out more like a wheeze. "I am invincible."
Arjun raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh really? Because you look like you could pass out any minute."
Despite the pain wracking her body, a small smile tugged at her lips. It was just like him to tease her, even in the worst of times. "If I die, it'll be on my own terms," she muttered, her eyes closing briefly as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
"Right," he drawled sarcastically, leaning back on his heels. "Because bleeding out in a garden is the ideal way to go for the great Draupadi."She opened her eyes again, squinting at him through the fog of her vision. "You're still as irritating as ever."
"And you're still as stubborn as ever." He shot back with a grin. "Some things never change, do they?"
The banter between them, though light, was laced with the sharpness of old wounds and buried feelings. He was teasing her, yes, but his voice—his presence—was laced with a tenderness she had almost forgotten. The way he used to look at her, the way he had always known exactly how to push her buttons while making her smile at the same time.
"Arjun," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Why are you here?"He leaned in closer, his expression softening for just a moment. "Because you need me. And let's be honest, you've always needed me."
Her throat tightened as she tried to swallow the lump forming there. "I don't need you," she managed to say, though her voice lacked conviction.
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure you don't." His tone was playful, but there was something deeper in his eyes, something that made her chest tighten even more. "But tell me this: why do I always show up when you're about to fall apart?"
She couldn't answer him. She didn't want to. Because the truth was, he was right.
He had always been there, even when she had convinced herself that she had moved on, that she didn't need him.
But now, here he was, appearing in the haze of her fading consciousness, as if her soul had called out for him in her final moments.
"You're not real," she whispered again, closing her eyes.
"Maybe," he mused, his voice soft now, almost tender. "But that doesn't mean I'm not here."She opened her eyes again, and there he was, still watching her with that same mix of teasing and concern.
But this time, his face was closer, his hand reaching out toward her."What's the matter, Draupadi?" he asked quietly, his voice losing its playful edge. "Are you afraid of what comes next?"
Her heart skipped a beat at the question. Was she afraid? Afraid of death? Afraid of facing the truth she had hidden for so long?
"I'm not afraid," she lied, though her voice trembled.
Arjun's expression softened, his teasing smile fading into something more genuine. "You've never been good at lying to me, you know."
She could feel the world slipping away, the cold pressing in on her as her body screamed for rest, for healing, for anything to stop the bleeding.
But her heart ached more than any wound could, and as she looked at the boy in front of her, the boy she had once loved, she felt the weight of everything she had lost, everything they had lost.
"You left me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
His face tightened, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something deeper, something sad. "No, Draupadi. You left me."
Her breath hitched, and she felt the tears sting her eyes. She tried to respond, to tell him that it wasn't true, that she had never wanted to leave him, but the words wouldn't come.
Suddenly, he reached out, brushing a lock of her hair from her face with a tenderness that made her heart ache even more.
"You should've told me," he murmured, his voice soft, full of the unspoken things that had passed between them all those years ago.
Her lips trembled, and she closed her eyes again, feeling the warmth of his touch even though she knew it wasn't real. "I... I didn't know how."
Arjun sighed, shaking his head. "You always were too proud for your own good."
Her world was spinning again, the edges of her vision growing darker. She knew she was slipping, her body giving in to the wounds she had sustained. But in this moment, with him here, it didn't feel so lonely.
"Stay with me," she whispered, though she knew he couldn't.
Arjun smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "I'll always be with you."
The pain in her body was fading now, replaced by a numbness that spread through her limbs.
But her heart, that part of her still clung to him, to the boy she had loved, to the memories they had shared.
Her voice was barely a whisper as she spoke. "I still—"
But before she could finish, he was gone, dissolving into the shadows like smoke in the wind. And Draupadi, alone once more, let the darkness finally take her. . .
***
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