She was sister of almighty yet had to go through may hurdles. Her life was not a bed roses but it was bed of thrones. Throughout the life she craved for love.
What will a small girl do when her own mother was tricked to give up one daughter to save...
She met his gaze, her chin held high. "They can whisper, they can scorn," she said, her voice steely with resolve, "but their words will hold no power over our love. We will face this storm together, Arjuna, stronger than ever before, for our love is not a fragile flower, but a mighty oak, rooted in trust and nurtured by sacrifice."
A flicker of hope sparked in Arjuna's eyes. He pulled her close, the rough edges of his exile fading away in the warmth of her embrace. Their love, tested and redefined, emerged from the ashes of doubt, stronger, more resilient than ever before.
The sun may have set on Indraprastha, but in their hearts, it was dawn. With each sunrise, they would rewrite their vows, not with fear, but with love, ready to face the storms that awaited them, hand in hand, a warrior and his beloved, forever bound by a love that transcended vows and defied exile itself.
Draupadi's Pov
The scent of sandalwood oil snaked around Draupadi's senses, slithering into her dreams like a serpent charming a bird. But it wasn't sandalwood she sought in her slumber, it was the familiar musk of Arjuna, the comforting earthiness of her warrior husband. Instead, a foreign sweetness hung in the air, a cloying perfume that tasted like betrayal.
She woke with a start, the dream clinging to her like dew on petals. The sunlight slanting through the window was harsh, the shadows it cast mimicking the jagged edges of unease settling in her gut. A low moan escaped her lips, drawing Yudhishthira's bleary eyes to her face.
"Draupadi?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "What troubles you?"
Draupadi hesitated. To speak the suspicion aloud felt akin to ripping open a wound, exposing its raw flesh to the world. Yet, the silence felt heavier, a suffocating cloak constricting her soul. "Arya," she whispered, her voice barely a tremor, "tell me, did Arya Arjun find solace in exile? Did he... did he find comfort in another's arms?"
Yudhishthira's face paled, the question echoing like a knell in the hushed chamber. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, the struggle etched on his features. Finally, he met her gaze, the truth mirroring the sorrow in his eyes.
"Draupadi," he began, his voice heavy with regret, "the whispers reached us too. Tales of a Naga princess named Uloopi, drawn to his strength, offering him her love in the depths of the Ganga. And in Manipur, a princess named Chitrangada, captivated by his valor, sharing her throne and her heart."
The world tilted on its axis. The scent of sandalwood became the stench of deceit, the sunlight turned into a searing blade dissecting the tapestry of their love. Two names, two whispers, cutting through the years of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and battles fought side by side.
Tears welled in her eyes, not the fiery storm she usually unleashed, but silent rivulets carving grief onto her cheeks. "And he..." she croaked, her voice barely audible, "he loved them?"
Yudhishthira reached for her hand, his touch a balm on the raw wound. "Love may come in many forms, Draupadi. Perhaps his heart, seeking solace away from our shared burden, found companionship in their care. But remember, our bond," he stressed, his eyes pleading for understanding, "it remains a singular melody, woven with threads of destiny and unyielding devotion."
His words hung in the air, a fragile bridge over the chasm that had opened in her heart. Was his explanation a salve or a justification? Did love, like sunlight, truly have the capacity to shine on multiple hearts simultaneously? Or was she, the queen of fire, destined to be consumed by the ashes of doubt?
Draupadi knew her response would echo through the halls of their shared lives, shaping the melody of their love song. In that moment, amidst the ruins of her trust, she had to choose – succumb to the bitter poison of suspicion or rise from the ashes with a love fortified by unwavering faith.
Arjun's pov
In the emerald depths of the Ganges, shrouded in secrecy and desire, Arjuna pledged himself to Uloopi. She was everything Draupadi wasn't – serpentine grace gliding through the water, her eyes reflecting the moonlit mysteries of the river. Yet, as he held her hand, a phantom touch grazed his heart – Draupadi's fiery spirit whispered in Uloopi's unwavering loyalty.
Their son, Iravan, emerged from the river's womb, bearing the mark of Arjuna's bow but inheriting Uloopi's serpent wisdom. As the child laughed, the echo of Draupadi's playful banter danced in the air, tinged with the quiet grace Uloopi had bestowed upon him.
In the vibrant jungles of Manipur, a warrior princess named Chitrangada claimed his heart. Her fiery spirit mirrored Draupadi's, ablaze with a ferocity that matched his own. Yet, in her stillness, he glimpsed Draupadi's unwavering strength, the stoic queen beneath the vibrant fire.
Their son, Babruvahana, a miniature warrior wielding blades with Draupadi's playful confidence and Chitrangada's unyielding will, became a mirror to his divided heart. Each giggle held Draupadi's infectious joy, each battle cry, Chitrangada's defiant roar.
Arjuna loved them – Uloopi, with her river whispers and quiet strength, Chitrangada, with her fiery passion and warrior grace. Each love a petal to his lotus, unique in its hue, yet woven from the same threads of devotion he held for Draupadi.
But the weight of his vows, a chain forged in good intentions, gnawed at his soul. Each night, beneath the moonlit sky, he saw Draupadi in their shadows – in Uloopi's moonlit gaze, in Chitrangada's fiery embrace. The guilt coiled around him, a serpent mirroring the one that bore his firstborn.
His love for Draupadi remained a sun, blazing in the center of his sky, unwavering, eternal. Yet, these new moons, orbiting his sun, reflected its light, adding shades of loyalty, grace, and fierce passion to his tapestry of love.
With each sunrise, he wrestled with the guilt, whispering apologies to the wind, hoping they would reach Draupadi's ears, carried on the wings of forgiveness. He longed to return, to see her fire burn bright, to confess his choices and seek her understanding.
For Arjuna, his exile was not just a physical punishment, but a labyrinth of conflicting emotions. In Uloopi and Chitrangada, he found solace, companionship, and even glimpses of Draupadi in their souls. But it was also a constant reminder of his mistake, a mirror reflecting the fractured image of his love, urging him to find his way back to the sun that warmed his heart, no matter how long and arduous the journey.
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Do share your comments on the chapter how you felt or should I change any style.
I tried to show their insecurities and their feelings in these chapters
As I said these chapters are going to be more focused on pandavs and draupadi and I haven't mentioned about their relation much in previous chapters.
