It had been a month since the Pandavas had returned to Hastinapur.

As he sat on the bed in his grand chambers, Arjun felt despair greater than he had ever known. They had won, but at what cost? They had lost practically their whole family. They had killed their own grandfather. The man who had cared for them all, that Grandfather. Arjun had killed him. Pierced him with arrows. 

They had killed their Guru. The person who had taught them all they knew, the person from whom they had gained all the knowledge required to fight the war in the first place. And they had killed him with deception. By telling him his son was dead.

𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠, Arjun thought. What if someone had done that to him? Told him his son was dead to weaken him. If not for Madhav, his Gandiva would have undoubtedly fallen from his hands.

And Arjun had already felt the pain of a dead son. But he had allowed it to happen anyways.

They had lost all their children. All the Kaurava kids were dead as well. The complete annihilation of not just their, but their children's generation had taken place.

And Yuyutsu... even though he had voluntarily joined their side against his own brothers.... well them killing all his brothers hadn't exactly endeared them to him and Arjun could tell that he hated himself too. He could not even speak to his parents or sisters in law anymore. And he wasn't exactly alone in that.

None of the five brothers could meet their Elder aunt and uncle's eyes anymore. Mata Gandhari would sit for hours in front of the Shivalinga and not talk to anyone. Tatshree had also taken to joining her nowadays. They would only eat when one of their Kaurava Daughters in law joined them and brought them food.

And speaking of their sisters in law from the other side of the family. The castle was now full of widows.

Bhanumati never spoke a word to any of them or even Draupadi or Subhadra. Most of the time she would remain locked up in her chambers. Subhadra had tried to get her to talk but she had been entirely ignored. If any message was to be delivered, it would be done by Chandramukhi, who would stay as far as possible from Bhrata Bheem and keep her head head bowed in front of them as if just waiting to be hurt by them. The other widows flitted by them in the corridors as if afraid of them.

They had secluded themselves to what had been dubbed as the Widow's Wing of the Palace. Kunti Ma, however, was decidedly not welcome there.

It pained Arjun. That they were thought of as some kind of monsters who would hurt helpless widows and grieving women. The worst part was that he couldn't even blame them. Were they not monsters who had destroyed their entire family? Would it not have been better if they had never fought this war?

They might have had to stay away from Hastinapur, but their family would have been alive. Their children would have been alive.

And... and

Angaraj Karna.

Thinking of him brought up a whole range of complicated emotions.

Pain. Grief. Disbelief. Anger. Confusion. Hatred. Self-Loathing. Guilt.

He still could not believe it. He could not believe any of it.

How on Earth was it possible that he was their eldest brother?!?!

How could their Mother have abandoned her firstborn? He was the blessing of the Sun God. Surely, even if he had been born out of wedlock, their mother who was only a teenager at the time, would not have been punished for bearing the blessing of a God? Surely, his armour and earrings would have been a proof of his divinity? 

And even if their mother could be forgiven here, for it was natural for a young girl to be afraid and take rash decisions, how could their Mother have kept silent for all these years?!?!

She had known. She had known that the Angaraaj was her son. She had recognised him all those decades ago, in the Rangabhoomi at their Kalapradarshan. She was the Queen Mother by then. Well loved, wise and untouchable by society. She could have told them that the man they were insulting, that they were raising weapons against was their eldest brother. But she didn't. She stayed quiet. She let them insult and taunt each other. She let them compete. She failed her eldest son.

Arjun had held it together all this while. Their Jyesht had broken down after learning the truth, even going so far as to curse their mother and Arjun and been there to hold him up.  

Bhrata Yuddhishtir had been like a ghost for the first week after they found out the truth. It had taken a lot of effort on all their parts to get him to even talk again.

But what about him? 

What about him? He had been the one to kill their eldest brother. He had killed him. 

And he could not believe the Angaraaj. Even when he got to know that he was their brother, right before the war, he continued to fight against them? Even though he swore that he would spare the lives of four of his younger brothers upon defeating them, he would not spare Arjun? He had spared Bheem who was the one actually killing the Kauravas, he had spared Yuddhishtir upon whose death the war would have ended in Kaurava victory, but he would fight Arjun to the death?

He wanted to rage but all he could do was cry. Was he truly so terrible? Did the Angaraaj truly hate him that much?

What did Duryodhan have that he didn't? Why did Duryodhan get to have all of Karna's love when all of them only received his hate? Why did Duryodhan get to have their brother even after death??

And how would Arjun ever wash his Eldest Brother's blood off his hands? Was it even possible? No matter how upset his other brothers felt, they had not been the ones to kill him.

He, on the other hand, had been left to rot in the hell of fratricide, with unwashable sin on his hands.

Author's Notes: So uh.. How was that? If you guys liked it, please let me know. Let me know if there's any particular thing you'd like to see. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but please don't flame. Don't forget to vote if you liked it!! 

(Also, I'll just mention here.

Chandramukhi is Dussashan's wife.

Mridula is Vikarna's wife.)