Natyam | A Mahabharata Fiction

4.

Arrows whined as they whipped through the air and slammed into their targets.

To say I was shocked, was a massive understatement. Rajkumar Arjun, with an uncanny amount of ease, plucked up an arrow from his quiver, nocked it and didn't hesitate as he let the arrow fly! It hit its mark.

The night had brought out the moon in all of its glory and it was under its serene light that the archer demonstrated his skill. And he looked so...beautiful. His lean figure was softly glowing under the gentle moonlight. All of him moved with purpose, knowing exactly what to do-the movements that were recorded in muscle memory. And his focus was quiet and streamlined. It seemed as though he saw nothing beyond his mark. It was breathtaking.

Arjun shot until the quiver ran out. Then he raised the bow to his brow and set it down before bringing his hands together before the weapon. And when he turned to see me, he smiled.

"That was—it was brilliant. You are brilliant. Thank you for showing your art to me."

He placed a hand on my shoulder. The gesture was soft and gentle. He smiled down at me. His smile was the sweetest one I had ever seen. Years later, that smile of his will still move me. That entire expression of his would move me. His eyelids bearing down low as he gazed at my face. And the graceful curve of his lips, looking at me with such affection and fondness.

But, at that moment, it was time to check how modern a man he was. So I asked. "Will you teach me?"

"Rajkumari," he breathed. Inhaling sharply, he lifted his hand off my shoulder. But his smile only widened.

I raised a brow.

"Are you sure you wish to learn?"

"I do."

Silence fell over us as he pondered over the proposition.

"I will teach you." My heart stopped in its tracks. I looked up at him. Arjun was perfectly serious. A prince teaching weaponry to a princess. Something only Karna had done before. And he was....Arjun. The best in our time. Right alongside Karna.

After so many years, I cannot tell you why I suddenly felt shy in that moment. Slowly, I reached out to grasp the bow he held out for me. My hand clasped around it when he tugged on the bow.

My eyes met his.

"I will teach you," he proclaimed quietly, "if you vow not to tell anyone. That I have to say so, makes me apologetic, Mrinali. However, the fact of the matter is that we live in a stringent and strict society; should anyone find out about this, they will ruin your name along with mine. I would rather avoid all of the social drama."

Ahh, so there it was!

But he was right, people would talk. They always did. And it was a small ask to not announce to the whole world that he was teaching me. It seemed reasonable enough. So I smiled and nodded. "I promise I will not breathe a word about this to anyone."

He let go of the bow.

"Take your stance." He ordered, perfectly cool and serious-the role of a teacher.

I put a foot forward, raised the bow to eye-level, nocking an arrow.

He inspected my stance and then moved forward to correct my posture. His chest was a hair's breadth away from my back as he taught me archery in the dead of the night.

*****

Arjun left two days later. He and I had spent those two days in each others' company without exception. We had only parted at night to sleep. He would walk me to my chambers with a mischievous smile and bid me good night before heading to his own chambers. He taught me archery whenever possible. Once, I took him to the fields to work with the farmers. The willingness and ease with which he agreed to accompany me to the fields surprised me pleasantly. We worked all morning until the wives called us in for lunch and then resumed working until dusk. They fussed over us immensely. And Arjun, with his quicksilver eyes and sweet smile, was fawned over by all. That night, he had given me a crooked grin before earnestly thanking me for taking him with me.

The days were filled with teasing and the night were reserved for more interesting topics like philosophy. He had far more to say in the day and I had far more to say at night. When one of us spoke, the other silently listened—speaking only to offer another point of view or an alternate discussion.

And he was amazing. Clever and witty, wildly curious and brave.

I missed him deeply. Terribly. My days went on as they were before his arrival into my life. And I was happy. But I had enjoyed his company far too much.

I remember the conversation we had had the night before his departure. "I am sorry that you are leaving. I shall miss your company." I had told him. Arjun only smiled and told me he would miss me too. The only reassurance of seeing him again was when the Pandavas would relocate to Khandavaprastha.

We had embraced each other that night. It had felt a lot like...home.

But he was gone the next morning. He had left with a polite goodbye to our whole family, his lips curling into a smile as he wished me well. I had returned his smile.

The days went by. Life continued in and I was kept busy with my responsibilities as princess of Vrikesh. But there were some evenings, when I sat in the trees or stood in my balcony, merely thinking. About a month after his departure, I was standing in the balcony, looking at the pink sky and remembering Arjun.

The cool breeze picked up its pace and the trees in the palace grounds swayed in the wind. The leaves rustled. And I could have sworn the leaves sighed his name. Arjun. Arjun. Arjun.

*****
Hello, all! Apologies for the delay! Life has a way of making one forget about their plans and duties hehe.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Love.