A/N:- Honestly, this is getting out of hand, I really hadn't planned on writing so much on this. I thought, I'll end this book with five chapters max and here we are. Ughh... my spiralling thoughts! Do you all think the flashbacks are unnecessary? I thought, it'll help in building the intrigue maybe. Anyway, here are some more, hehe!

*****

Flashback, Swargaloka, an year ago

Bheeshma had still not gotten adjusted to being dead. 

It was a very strange experience. On asking his seven brothers, the Vasus, they had laughed indulgently and tried their best to explain the complex nature of the human soul. 

One which had divinity mixed into it. 

He could travel at the speed of light and sail across the cosmos within a blink. He could be formless or retain his mortal features if he saw fit. He could even revert back to any age that he desired. 

He had been so confused with the litany of things that he was allowed to do and having witnessed things which he was sure bended the rules of any Earthly phenomenon that he decided, he would just remain frozen in the state that he had been in, during his death. 

Well, not exactly. 

Sometimes he still touched himself all over, searching for the thousand arrows which had speared him to the ground of the Kurukshetra. 

Bheeshma's face softened remembering the first night he had laid alone on his bed of arrows, the deadly shafts plunged into his battle hardened body.

Stinging with the lingering cinders of his many sins.

Reminding the wizened Grandsire of the Kurus, constantly of the grave mistakes he had committed while trying to uphold his stringent morality. 

Arjun had come to him then. 

When he had been beseeched by his grandchildren moments after his fall, when his friends and foes had all gathered around him, faces pale in horror and expressions downtrodden in grief and guilt, he had seen his favourite grandchild, standing far away from the others. 

His face, a mask of ice, Gandhiva held in a white knuckled grip. 

Bheeshma had asked him for the makeshift pillow of arrows and for him to bring his mother to him and Arjun had responded silently. Only his arms moving in perfect synchrony, as his eyes remained trained at the far distance - on the setting sun. 

The wise warrior knew that it was all a façade. 

For his dear Phalgun had the softest hearts amongst them all. Something which he kept carefully hidden from his compatriots. 

So, he hadn't been surprised when the shining beacon of the Kurus, his poor Pritha's youngest, had then plopped down on the ground on his knees, beside his head. 

Arjun's calloused hands had taken one of his own, hanging limp from the perch of the arrows and then he had pressed his mouth against the back of the palm. 

Bheeshma didn't think he could experience any greater pain that what he was already going through. It had been beyond what any human could possibly suffer. The threshold of tolerant agony had already surpassed him by leaps and bounds. 

But then Arjun had started crying. 

Sobbing in restrained hiccups. 

Like a child trying to hide his tears, but failing to stop the anguish from bursting out of his chest like a massive avalanche preparing to drown all creation. 

"My dear...", Bheeshma had whispered, pained.

"Forgive.. me.. Pitamaha...forgive me please...", Arjun had choked against his hand, burning tears soaking into the blood drenched ground below. 

"No... no my darling child. It was destined.. I was... fated to die.. you were an instrument... just. I am so...proud of you... so very proud."

He had realised it later that maybe that wasn't the right thing to say as Arjun had only began sobbing harder at that. The son of Ganga had cursed his miserable fates a thousand times then, as he hadn't even been able to take his son in his arms. 

Thankfully, he had heard steps and had seen Vasudeva Krishna approaching them accompanied by a much younger man in tow. 

Abhimanyu's handsome face, so reminiscent of his father had shone pale in the silver moonlight, his marble eyes, facsimile of his beautiful mother had been brimming with tears. 

For some reason, Bheeshma knew Abhimanyu truly didn't care about him at the moment. The visible grief was reserved for his own father. The pain of seeing the man he most definitely idolised in such a miserable state. 

Bheeshma himself, had done nothing to earn any affection from the young warrior. 

Brave as his father and witty as his uncle, he had been nearly unstoppable in direct combat. 

How had Bheeshma wished he had had more time with Subhadranandan. 

Not that he would have ever imagined in his wildest nightmares of how Arjun's youngest would be butchered to death by the so called super warriors of his side, only three days after. 

Krishna and his nephew had mercifully taken Arjun from there, supporting him between them, turning away from the mighty Devarata, leaving him alone to ponder about the futility of his once so jealously upheld morality and the ultimate consequence which it had wrought on his entire clan. 

Now, he was at peace. 

Yudhishtir's reign had brought a blinding prosperity to his empire. 

Hastinapur was at the pinnacle of its glory days and Gangaputra could want nothing more. 

-------------------------

Bheeshma entered his mother's realm and was slightly shocked to see all his brothers assembled there. 

His mother, Paapnashini Ganga was standing at the foot of her watery throne, her beautiful face twisted in a strangely smug look. 

The expression didn't befit her usually sublime countenance. 

And there was another woman in front of her, offering her a weapon, from the looks of it. 

The shaft was glowing so brightly that for a moment, Bheeshma thought it could very well be a chip broken off Suryadeva himself. It was much bigger than normal arrows which made it evident that it had to be a divyastra. 

A very powerful divyastra. 

".....nance to you. I will send him to you when the time is right."

The woman whom, the grandsire was sure was a Naga finished her oddly bitter words, her striking emerald eyes dulled in a helpless pain. 

"I must admit, this was not what I had envisioned when I laid the curse on your husband. But, this is all turning out to be quite a pretty enhancement", Ganga replied with raised eyebrows as she took hold of the weapon. 

The Ramabana!

A curse?

What was even happening?

"Matae, forgive me for intruding but might I ask, why do you need Lord Rama's divyastra? As far as I had heard, it had been lost after the war on Lanka?"

"Ahh Dev, come on in. Meet, Kauravi Uloopi, the daughter of Nagaraja Kauravya", the river goddess gestured uncaringly at the short heighted woman who looked at him startled. 

"Uloopi? Are you...?", his eyes sparkled in recognition the next moment.

"You are my Arjun's wife! Greetings daughter! How is everyone in Hastinapur? How is Arjun?", Bheeshma asked her eagerly, forgetting about the Ramabana and his mother's quite baffling behaviour as the prospect of news from his grandchildren thrilled him. 

Kauravi looked incredibly sad, though she bent to take his blessings. 

"Greetings, Gangaputra Bheeshma. I wish I had the chance of meeting you in life", she whispered subdued. 

"What is wrong, my dear? You look---"

"Bheeshma, you are harassing the girl needlessly. Let her go. And don't worry, you will get to meet your dear Arjun, soon enough. Then ask of his health to him, directly."

Ganga snapped at her youngest and Bheeshma looked at her bewildered. 

"Mother, what are you saying? How will I...Arjun is on bhuloka..how.."

Uloopi's expression crumbled for a second and she almost tripped on her way out, unable to face Bheeshma anymore as it seemed. His mother looked at him coolly from her perch atop the throne.

The Ramabana had disappeared, stashed somewhere in her hold. 

And when she started speaking next, Bheeshma's confusion slowly turned into horror before settling at utter anguish. 

"Matae... oh mother what have you done?", he whispered, a hand over his face. 

"What he deserved."

"No! No, he didn't. He doesn't. I was on the side of adharma, I had to be removed. It was decreed as such."

"Not like that, not that way."

"There was no other way mother..."

"You my son, are blinded by your affection for him", Ganga said irritated. 

"No mother! You don't realise. Despite the cruelty of the way you alleviated that ignominious curse, you have forgotten about one person."

Ganga raised a sharp eyebrow as if daring him to continue which he did anyways. 

"Dwarikadheesh Krishna Vasudeva."

His voice echoed off the damp halls as if the mere utterance of the Yadavasreshtha's name had sent a shockwave off, in the river palace. 

"You are about to attack the one he protects. Have you given any thought to how that will end, for any of us? For the entire Universe?"

Bheeshma's words seemed to finally make his mother look just a shade pensive for a moment. Then her expression cleared off again. 

"I have a contingency for that. Mahadeva has granted me a boon. Don't worry about Krishna."

The once stalwart of the Kururashtra and grandsire to both the Kauravas and Pandavas sighed greatly, feeling his age in a way not even his death had made him feel, then. 

"Oh Arjun, my poor boy... my dear child. It had to be you, didn't it? Mahadeva save us all..."

------------------------------

The battlefield of Manipur, at present time

Babruvahana's hawk like eyes took in the almost panoramic view of the deadliest army of Bharatvarsha, assembled in front of his own. The yellow flags of the Kurus fluttered proudly in the wind, calling onto their enemies like a lion at the mouth of his den. 

But only the Lion in question was missing. 

Or at least, not visible in the front lines. 

He had recognised the young prince of Anga - Vrishketu standing atop his chariot, bow held straight. The heir apparent of Hastinapur, Vrikodhara Bheem was accompanying his nephew, atop a horse, his massive mace resting comfortably on one mighty shoulder. The orange flag of Indraprastha fluttered a few meters away, behind the two, making it evident that the Kaurava prince Yuyutsu had taken the rear end. 

Only, the one man, the son of Chitrangada wanted to see, was absent. 

"Where is the Commander?", Babru muttered to himself, searching for Arjun's silver visage hungrily from the armoured crowd in front, but his distinguishable flagstaff with the marking of the Lord of the Monkeys was not to be found. 

"One doesn't use the Brahmasheera right off the bat, Babru. Strategizing is the key. Use your strength judiciously. The point is to keep the endurance steady and not get tired out of the combat."

His mother's words have guided him through his rigorous training all his life. And there was no teacher whose teachings he has respected as he has, her's. Even now, at the face of perhaps the biggest war he'll fight, Chitrangada's words tempered his inflamed countenance somewhat. 

And it reminded him of the queen mother's anxious face when she had performed the ceremonial aarti for him, at dawn. His wife had been so nervous, she could barely stand and he understood her fear even if not reconcile to it. 

The Serpent Queen, another woman who had been his guiding light since he was a mere toddler, was the only one who had been perfectly calm. Her crystalline gaze warming up in maternal affection as he had bent to take her blessings. 

"Remember well my king, the one who underestimates one's enemy on the battlefield has taken a step towards their own defeat."

She had said and he had inclined his head. 

"This is a fight for our self respect my son. Manipur will not bow down to any emperor, however powerful. This is not a fight for personal glory or revenge--", Chitrangada had began, hazel eyes imploring for something he couldn't pinpoint. 

He had been discomfited by her words a little. He was sure his mother had an inkling of his personal agenda behind the war. But he couldn't give in to paltry doubts at the wake of coming so close to fulfilling his oath. 

"Do not worry, mother. I will not resort to ungainly violence even if my heart hungers for it. Have faith in your student's honour", he had replied, albeit a little curt. 

Chitrangada had only smiled, a strange melancholy washing over her handsome features. And just as he was leaving she had blurted out something else. The words had almost flown out of her lips it had seemed, as she had tried keeping a desperate hold onto them. 

"Return victorious, my precious child. I will.. pray for you."

He had been a little baffled at the rare and sudden display of emotion. 

"Of course, mother. I will not disappoint you, today. Mark my words."

The conch shells started blowing in tandem and Babruvahana rotated his neck once, straightening the kinks with a snap. 

"Attack!"

He shouted at his men and the other side charged on them like a band of bloodthirsty wolves almost as if on cue. 

He nocked his bow and let lose the first arrow which hit dead centre with that of the prince of Anga, who seemed like he had been lying in wait, just for him. His golden chariot was gleaming off the morning sunshine like a brilliant daze. 

"Greetings, Manipuraj!"

"Well met, Karnaputra!"

They exchanged scathing words while showering arrows incessantly on the other, all the while. 

It was like witnessing the infamous battle between the son of Surya and the son of Indra, all those years ago, at the backdrop of the greatest war fought in the history of humankind. 

The fight was ferocious and both were unwilling to relent, injuring each other continuously by their respective arrows yet swatting them away like flies off their armoured bodies. 

Bheema had struck terror in the hearts of the Manipuri forces, as his legendary mace sent them flying by the hordes, hitting men, horses, chariots and elephants, without discrimination. 

Yuyutsu had been engaged in combat with that of the commander of the other side, Senapati Akshay, a man who was proving to be quite a challenge for the Kaurava prince. 

Within moments, the battlefield was riot with complete chaos as men clashed against each other, lusting for blood and glory as destiny laid in wait for the final act to commence, secrets and personal vendettas pushing the wheel of fate closer to turning upside down, with each passing second. 

-----------------------------

Hastinapura, a few hours later

The queen mother of the Kuru empire, sighed for the umpteenth time and rubbed her chest with a withered hand, unconsciously. 

"Kunti, what is the matter, my dear? You have been absent minded the entire morning and now are looking increasingly pale by the minute."

Gandhari's gentle words brought the daughter of Shurasena back to the present and she turned to see the former queen of Hastinapur walk towards her. The years had done nothing good for either of the two aged queens, grief and guilt fading their once beautiful persons into a shadow of their former selves. 

Gandhari could see now, having discarded the blindfold after Duryodhan's demise. Yet the patch of fair skin, not marred by the sun, still remained like a scar over her waxy face as a mark of her tremendous sacrifice. 

"Forgive me Jiji. I do not know why I am feeling so restless", Kunti replied softly. 

"Is it because of the messenger who came from Manipur, yesterday?", Gandhari asked gently and on seeing her younger sister in law's downcast expression realised the truth.

"Oh, you silly girl! Please, don't tell me the prospect of a battle with Manipur is stressing you. The king is still a mere child and surely you don't doubt your sons' prowess?"

"No Jiji, it is.. inexplicable and completely unjustified. But I can't stop this horrid feeling which has taken root in my heart since hearing about that accursed message."

"Inexplicable maybe... not unjustified. You are a mother and a mother's feeling shouldn't be discarded as unjustified, even when her children are, some of the most powerful people to exist."

Gandhari kept a hand on Kunti's trembling shoulder and sighed, turning away a little from the glare of the sun. Her sensitive eyes had still not gotten used to the brilliant light of Suryadeva. 

"Worried about Bheem?", she asked again.

"No. It is Arjun whose face keeps flashing in front of my eyes. I keep remembering his childhood. He was... such an innocent child. Always full of questions, a burning curiosity about the world. My husband... he would get tired from answering his million queries, all day long."

Kunti's melancholy had turned a little into a fond reminiscence towards the end as she pictured her youngest when was, still a toddler, stumbling behind his father, questions streaming from his lips unending. 

Pandu never tired of replying to him, though. 

'He had been a good father... if not a very good husband', Kunti thought bitterly, love and resentment festering in her soul as always, whenever she thought about her husband.

"Oh, Pritha! You are worried about our Partha? Krishna's Partha? Senility has kicked into you sooner than I thought would.. you old peach!"

Gandhari chortled through her words making her sister in law glare at her though her own lips quirked in a smile. 

"He is unconquerable, our Arjun. And even if some danger does loom on him, your divine nephew will come running to his aid at the drop of a hat. They are like conjoined twins, those two."

There was a hint of bitterness which maligned the affection in Gandharakumari's voice and as if realising the same, her face twisted a little in remorse. 

Since the day she had dared to curse the Lord of the Yadavas and the latter had accepted it, she always felt disconcerted at his mere mention let alone his presence. 

She had thought Arjun would probably never forgive her. He might have, had she cursed him instead. 

She would never understand the bond between those two. 

Something which had earned Arjun a sure victory and Duryodhan a resounding defeat at the very day they had made their choices in front of the Lord of Dwarka, before the war had even commenced. 

Gandhari knew she was being unfair and a little resentful but she couldn't help herself. 

A mother's heart after all. 

But Arjun as usual, had set his legendary focus on changing her derision into affection once they had settled in Hastinapur, after those terrifying eighteen days. 

It was near impossible to resist the gentle hearted Pandava's innocent advances and soon Gandhari had already made a little space in her old and shredded heart for Kunti's youngest. 

Yudhishtir was Duryodhan's competition so she couldn't love him.

Bheem, she would probably never forgive.

Sahadev killed her brother. Evil and manipulative and twisted as he was.

Nakul murdered her nephews. 

But Arjun, despite the way he killed Bheeshma, despite killing Karna and Vrishasena and widowing her only daughter, despite the horrifying destruction he had single handedly wrought on the Kaurava forces on the fourteenth day paving the way for their certain defeat, despite everything--- she couldn't hate him. 

It was impossible. 

"I know Jiji, I know... but.. he didn't even come to take my blessing before leaving for the expedition. Even Vrishketu came! Can you believe it?"

Kunti wrung her hands, anxiety splashed on her lined face. 

"Why won't he forgive me? Even Yudhishtir forgave me", the mother of the Pandavas whispered, pained. 

"Yudhishtir didn't kill Vasusen, Kunti...", Gandhari's words though brutal bespoke of a truth which was irrevocable. 

"Give him time. It will all be alright. For now, let us go and..."

The two queens were barely able to balance themselves when a sudden rumbling shook the floor beneath their feet. It was like an earthquake, albeit mild but left a strange disquiet in the air after leaving in a flash. 

"What was---"

Kunti's words remained unspoken as a maidservant came running in the room, panicked. 

"Princess Subhadra has fainted, my queens!"

To be continued.