Arjun's pov
Arjun only concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other in the walk to the podium. Through his hazed gaze, he could see only disappointment.
The disappointment on Gurudev's face. The disappointment on Bheem's face and the twins'. The disappointment on Pitamah's face. The disappointment on Uncle Vidur's face.
The jeers of the crowd. The laughs of his cousins. The triumphant smile of the King of Anga's.
All his life he had seen only admiration when people looked at him. It had raised the standards to such level that the bump back to earth was intolerable.
He had never been so humiliated in his whole life.
On the stairs leading to the podium, the ground spun alarmingly. Pitamah caught his arm to steady him.
After that, Arjun exerted all efforts not to pass out. If he passed out, it would be still more humiliating--if that was even possible.
But if he passed out, at least he would not be conscious to face it...
On the podium, meeting Guru Drona's gaze was inevitable. It was the worst moment of the day so far. Gurudev looked more pained than disappointed.
Arjun wondered if he was pained at being let down in front of the kingdom.
But then he gave Arjun a small nod of encouragement. You are still my favourite student, it seemed to say.
It made him feel worse.
"To think we bothered about wishing Karna luck," Duryodhan said boisterously.
Dussashan slapped Karna on the shoulder, sniggering.
"It was hardly a satisfying victory, however," Karna said, and turned to Arjun. "You ruined its entire potential, Arjun."
Duryodhan and Dussashan's laughs went still more mocking. The King of Anga was not laughing; he genuinely looked inquisitive.
But Arjun had no idea why he had messed up. No justification, no defense.
He had come in with the preparation to give a fight--and he had been unable to. It was not like he had consciously decided and not given a fight.
Every arrow he had shot had been with the intention of intercepting his opponent's arrows or to disarm him. Why had none of them been on target? Every swerve of his had been with the intention to escape his opponent's arrows' trajectories. Why had he swerved into their trajectories?
He hardly deserved to hold his bow anymore. But it was the only thing he had to hold on to.
Maybe someday his bow would forgive him for this.
"Warriors do not cry upon defeat, brother," said Duryodhan in a derisive tone. "You are certainly doing your best to humiliate Gurudev today."
Which made Arjun realize he was crying. Another thing about which he had no idea why.
Pitamah called Karna and Arjun forward.
Uncle Dhritarashtra spoke. "The victor of the contest was undoubtedly the King of Anga, son of Adhirath and Radha, Karna. On the behalf of Hastinapur, I apologize for our treatment of the King of Anga's abilities a year ago--"
Karna looked a mix of uncomfortable and pleased.
"--when Guru Drona had declared our Prince, my nephew Arjun as the best archer of the kingdom--"
In the end, Arjun concluded that the reason his tears would not relent was the realization that his best efforts had all been for nothing.
His big brother still looked at no one with as much unbridled hatred as he looked at him.
******************
Yudhishthir's pov
Yudhishthir took a step towards the podium.
Bheem caught his arm and shook his head.
"Don't, jyesht, you will make it worse."
Nakul and Sahadev, both looking miserable, nodded nevertheless.
Bheem's voice was hoarse; he wanted to go to Arjun, too. "He will never forgive you."
Yudhishthir knew. He knew it perfectly well.
He would only be adding to his brother's humiliation if he went up to him now, for defeated warriors were not meant to be comforted. He knew Arjun would be furious. But his brain could not convince his heart, the heart of an elder brother.
You will never know, if you were not the elder brother, what it felt to see your brother bleeding in front of the world, humiliated beyond all limits, too ashamed to look anyone in the eye. He would not be a warrior to you anymore. He would simply be your baby brother.
***
It had been two weeks after their father's death that Yudhishthir had first seen Arjun cry. He might have cried earlier, but he had hidden it. It was in the middle of the night, when their mother and brothers were all asleep. Arjun's sobs were too soft to wake anyone up.
Yudhishthir, thinking himself lucky to have been awake, crossed over the sleeping bodies to reach the other end of the cot where Arjun was curled up.
At first, the latter tried to stifle his sobs into uneven breathing and pretend he was sleeping too. But when Yudhishthir had taken him in his arms, he had given in again.
"Couldn't sleep, my dear?"
"I am sorry for waking you, jyesht."
"I was already awake, but I would have been glad if you had woken me up, too." He wiped off his brother's tears, though more took their place, and held him for the hours till sunrise in silence.
Just as Sahadev was stirring awake, Yudhishthir had extracted a promise from Arjun in a whisper.
"Will you promise to wake me up whenever you are unable to sleep and feel like crying, child?"
***
Arjun had stuck to that promise for years afterwards, till it stopped. Yudhishthir could not say when exactly his brother had decided he was grown up and did not need comfort anymore.
To him, however, his younger brothers could never be grown up.
He shook off Bheem's restraining arm, tried to make himself inconspicuous, and made his way over to the podium.
It was only when he was within a foot of Arjun when he saw the tears on his cheeks.
He had gone with the intention of simply standing beside his brother, but now, he put his arm around Arjun's waist.
Arjun looked at him. Yudhishthir waited for him to push him away, scowling. That was what anyone would have done, and certainly what Arjun would have done.
Instead of indignation, Arjun reacted with surrender. He slumped against Yudhishthir and clung on.
Yudhishthir swallowed back his shock quickly.
"Are you all right?" he asked in Arjun's ear.
Arjun nodded.
Duryodhan and Dussashan were jeering, but it was meaningless noise to Yudhishthir.
He kissed Arjun's bleeding head and supported his head on the crook of his shoulder. Within a minute, his own face was soaked with Arjun's blood and Arjun's tears.
Dussashan leaned over to Duryodhan and Karna and spoke in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear and soft enough to pretend he had not meant for it to be heard.
"Look who Pitamah is making the Crown Prince, jyesht. He has to hold up his own best warrior; what will happen to the kingdom?"
Bhisma gave him a scorching look, but that was nothing compared to what Yudhishthir shot him.
Arjun's whisper in his shoulder was barely audible even to him. "I am sorry for letting you down, jyesht."
He always apologized before accepting comfort.
"You can," whispered back Yudhishthir, his voice breaking, "never let me down as long as you call me jyesht, my dear."
But all along the King and Queen's speeches concluding the contest, Guru Drona's forced, brusque acceptance that he had overshot when he had declared Arjun supreme, it was a struggle for Yudhishthir to come to terms with how out of character Arjun was acting.
It was a bit terrifying. It was also heartbreaking.
Arjun never gave up. Arjun never gave in, either.
Maybe today had stretched him beyond his limit. But why had he fought so badly, anyway? Surely he was far better with the arrow in his sleep than what he had shown today?
But Yudhishthir resolved he would not be the one to remind his brother, even inadvertently, through shocked or disappointed looks, that he had disgraced himself in the arena today. He would only focus on finding out what was wrong.
He knew his brother had finally passed out from blood loss when his inaudible sobs ceased.
Yudhishthir, helpless with a kind of anger he never felt, looked at the King of Anga with all the hatred he felt.
But Karna did not look very happy, himself; there was a strange look on his face as he studied Arjun in Yudhishthir's arms. Then he lifted his eyes to Yudhishthir's before quickly averting them.
Someday, Yudhishthir thought, he would make everyone who had ever dared to hurt his brother pay.
********************
When Yudhishthir had finally dragged Arjun out of the accursed arena and the relentless gaze of millions, Bheem and the twins were waiting.
Bheem lifted Arjun from Yudhishthir's arms.
"You--you look like a vampire, jyesht," he said in a tone of forced light-heartedness.
Yudhishthir touched his face. His fingers came away red.
"I will kill the King of Anga with my bare arms tomorrow," added Bheem.
"It was not his fault," said Yudhishthir mechanically.
Sahadev nodded wistfully. "It could have been much worse if the King of Anga had actually been trying to wound. Much worse, Bhrata Bheem. What was wrong with Bhrata Arjun, do you think?"
"I expect we will find out eventually, but none of you are to ask a single question about this to Arjun, all right?"
Yudhishthir waited for all three to assent.
"Uncle Vidur instructed us to take him to the infirmary." Nakul felt the wound on the side of Arjun's head. "It is nothing too serious, he will be okay within a day or two, jyesht."
"Yes, I know."
But it depended on how you defined 'okay.'