Paanchaal, Kaampilya

The night at the palace was glowing, the air of vibrancy seeping through the walls. The night lamps flickered, casting long shadows on the marble floors of the corridor. The clouds shrouded the moon now and then, amalgamating with the orange gleam that lit the grandiose's vast arches and doors. 

Arjun waited at the royal metal door, peered open slightly. His fingers curled in his sweaty fist, his heart pounding noisily against his chest. 

"His Majesty is calling you in, Prince. . ." The guard walked out slowly from inside the chamber, and Arjun tried to lean to glimpse the royal curtains fluttering with the cool winds.

He nodded softly, gently pushing the door open and stepping in. He held his breath steadily.

The elderly King was facing the vast high-arched window, with his hands behind his back. A maroon angavastra glided through his robust back, deftly sculpted like a warrior who had conquered a lot. There was a remnant of a deep gash on his protruding shoulder blade, strikingly sharp enough not to miss. 

"I knew you would come," There was a slight hoarseness in his voice, his chest inflating deeply with an exhale. 

"Good evening, your Majesty. . ." Arjun greeted nervously, contrary to his radiating confidence. He felt something that would happen tonight, something that could shake the vehemence of his sturdy form. 

Drupad turned around slowly, the corners of his eyes crinkled. There was something that dilated his dark orbs suddenly, which Arjun couldn't comprehend for a while. And for the first time, he properly looked into them, without wavering. 

And all he could see was there a melting intensity in them, looking at the way he had never thought he would. There was something that he was holding back, an deep urge which he wasn't sure of.

Arjun had knew those eyes since the day they came face to face. On the battlefield, unhinged and unforgiving of each other. His gaze glowered with fierceness, and his with unabashed ferocity. There was a clash of superiority versus oath to fulfill. 

"You want to know right? Why did I. . . choose you?" Drupad began suddenly, taking Arjun off-guard. 

Arjun stared still, inhaling deeply. He clutched the edge of his angavastra with a bated breath, "I stepped into the enemy's land without expecting anything." 

"Fate is never conspicuous." Drupad added with a small smile, "And it can be never one sided, son."

The King walked closer towards Arjun, breathing gently. The latter shook his head, "Why me?"

Arjun finally blurted out, the question that was ransacking his head since then. He could no longer hold himself back. There was an unrestrained vulnerability that suddenly wetted his amber eyes, a gulp seeping down his parched throat. 

Drupad's lips tilted slightly, and even more as if the question genuinely amused him.  He almost looked away, trying to hide the smile as if Arjun's words were laced with foolish humor. Arjun blinked, curiosity amplifying over his rendered unrest. 

The King almost sighed, looking up at the ceiling and muttering something inconspicuous. 

"And fate again. . . is playing with me." Drupad mumbled slightly.

"Pardon?" Arjun tilted his chin, slightly perturbed. 

Drupad shook his head slowly with a wistful smile, almost turning into a sarcastic one, "Arjun you asked me something, which even the Gods would laugh if they heard."

Arjun blinked rapidly, his brows knitting close, "Pardon, I. . ." 

Drupad muttered softly, shaking his head, "Think it to be the selfishness of a father Arjun." 

"A father, who once upon a time was just unaware of her true fate. . . yet very much aware to whom she should be with," His words trailed off, like he was saying them to himself. Arjun's breath hitched at his words. 

"And you thought, she should be with someone who had vowed to—vowed your destruction?"

Arjun's heart thudded faster than it should, as he stepped closer to the King, "You paved the way for someone who you had sworn to kill. . . "

Drupad sighed deeply, a rueful smile curling up his lips, "Fate is bizarre. It intertwines you so deeply that at one point, you do not even know how it turned everything from the best to the worst, and vice versa. I am at that point son, that very point of fate's beam balance, which can dip to either side."

"And my conscience is holding me, or rather I am struggling to hold and balance it from both ends."

Arjun inhaled a deep breath, "And you had intertwined my fate with your daughter, to balance it?" 

It was weird, but somehow he found his heart unloading itself slightly from the brewing, unwanted guilt.

"I had to safeguard Paanchaal after all that. And you, the best student of my enemy. . .you had to be taken care of. Somehow or the other."

"Hate me all you want, Arjun." Drupad ruefully closed his eyes, "But I won't justify myself for the sake of it. My desire to have you as my son-in-law was to bring you to my side, and Draupadi was the only way I could've done it, but. . ."

"But what?" Arjun's voice choked slightly, as he stared at Drupad in anticipation. It would be a lie if he hadn't guessed it by now, but still. And for some reason, he was hoping it to be the sole reason for everything.

That would make things more acceptable. And he wanted Drupad to accept that.

Accept that all he wanted was a truce, a diplomacy. Not anything remotely close to that.

Yet all that he did for finding and getting him, seemed like a very huge price; a dangerous risk which was not certainly worth this diplomacy.

"But I. . ." Drupad breathed shakily, "I became a pawn in the game of fate where my own diplomacy shall never work."

"And I realized that soon enough." 

Arjun's lips curled up slightly, "Diplomacy makes this equation better." He looked up at the King, exhaling a heavy, deep breath. Drupad let out a sarcastic chuckle, "I knew you would've said so. Your stakes are too high to accept a possibility of something that can shake your pride." 

"Yet what you risked for would've costed the Princess' life. . . your Majesty. Costed your life as well," Arjun whispered softly, "And-"

Drupad chuckled again, shaking his head, "My son. . . I could and would risk my life any-day for you five."

Arjun's brows relaxed eventually, the faint jubilant smile that had cornered his lips vanished away. He blinked softly, staring at the elderly King who smiled enigmatically at him, and it somewhere pricked his heart once again. Drupad stole away his gaze from him the next moment, striding towards the wooden cupboard at the corner of his chamber. 

A deep silence floated uneasily in the air, as Arjun could hear the faint creaking of the hinged cupboard door. Drupad's back faced the curious Prince. Papers and bundles rustled inside the stacks. 

Arjun frowned, his brows furrowing deeply. Drupad smothered his hand affectionately over a few papers, clearing the layer of thin dust that coated them. 

"Wh-what are these. . .?" Arjun's voice unintentionally shook, even before he knew the answer. 

Drupad cued with his eyes, inching closer to him and forwarding the papers—or rather letters.

Letters?

Arjun blinked, his fingers shaking slightly as he took the bunch of letters. The pages had turned a shade of yellow with passing time. His brows knitted once again, his gaze dropping down to the contents of the letter. 

And his eyes widened, widened a bit more. 

His jaw dropped slightly, his ambers rapidly, almost horrifyingly skimming through the contents of the letters. His fingers shook deftly as he traced the letter, "Pi. . .Pitashree?"

At the top right was Paandu's salutation, engraved with dark ink and at the corner, Hastinapur's seal. 

His deep breaths almost changed into soft pants of quick heaves, as he immediately sank into the couch nearby with a heavy, shocking thud. 

The ground from below his feet was snatched away in a night; and a revelation. 

Arjun clasped his forehead hard with his palm, as he exhaled frantically. He felt his entire world had turned upside down. He couldn't take his eyes off; eyes off the phrase that wrote below, 

'If something happens to me, take care of them, my beloved friend.'

The tilt of the script, the style of words chosen, and the handwriting, all were of Paandu's. . . 

"Your Majesty, did you ask for us?" 

Drupad's eye shifted towards the door of his chamber, where the four brothers were standing, all confused and equally curious at the sudden beckon at the oddly hour. He nodded softly, letting them in.

"Arjun?" Bheem's brows knitted slightly, watching his brother sitting blankly on the couch. 

★★★★★★★★★

A/N

Ufff. . . 👀🔥

Btw, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARJUN!!!! 😍😍😍😍😍😍*twirls around happily* and HAPPY HOLI TO EVERYONE!!!!

Stay blessed, happy and safe!

Signing off for today!
Kiritija Nushkie