The calm before the storm: The sanguine Krishna-Arjun journey

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕠𝕟

Arjun's pov

7 years later...

It was a relief for Arjun to don a warrior's attire after being clothed in flowing, colourful apparel for  a year, as befitted to the dance teacher of the Princess of Matsya and her friends. Not that they had hindered him in any way from defeating the whole army of Hastinapur single-handedly. Arjun held his Gandiva closer to his chest.

How he had missed it the past year.

He had missed many things--his mother back in Hastinapur, his wife in Dwaraka, his nephews in Panchal, but most of all, his sons, one in Panchal, one in Dwaraka. Thankfully he had not had to miss his other half, also known as the Lord of Creation, who had kept visiting him over their exile and incognito year since he returned from heaven. Arjun just needed to touch the armband on his left arm and call to Madhav in his heart with all the love he felt.

And then there was his Gandiva, synonymous with his identity as a warrior, or as himself. He was glad he had marked his reunion with his bow with a stunning victory.

King Virata had finally got over the shock of having unknowingly harboured the six of them, and that the eunuch who had taught singing and dancing had single-handedly protected his kingdom from seizure. Soon after, he proposed his teenaged daughter Uttara's hand to Arjun.

It had put them in a bit of a fix. On one side, Arjun was four decades older then the girl, and had grown fond of her as a daughter over the past year of teaching her, and the very idea of marrying her was depraved. On the other side, King Virata had protected them in the most difficult year of their lives, and showered much love upon them without knowing their identities, and they did not want to disappoint his vision of a union between their families.

"It is better if we get Uttara married to someone younger from the family," Draupadi suggested over their discussion.

Someone younger from the family.

Instantly one person flashed in Arjun's eyes.

"How about Abhimanyu?"

He had spoke first and thought later. Once King Virata accepted the match and Arjun pondered, however, it appealed to him more and more. His favourite student, vivacious, generous, kind-hearted Uttara, as good as a daughter to him, and his son--

To whom he could attribute no adjectives...yet.

He knew his to-be daughter-in-law much better than his own son. Abhimanyu had been merely three when they left for the exile.

Arjun remembered his curly mop of hair, his ever-gleaming eyes, his tiny fists reaching for a bow whenever within sight. He remembered the way he lisped, "Father."

After that, there was a blank slate. His son was be sixteen now. All of Madhav's anecdotes of Dwaraka when he visited were not enough to quench Arjun's thirst of knowing his son.

Inside his head, he had built up an image, of course.

Abhimanyu would be indomitable on the battlefield, and compassionate off it. He would hold his bow with reverence like a prayer. He would strife to protect his own and would treat his defeated enemies with mercy. He would have a firm voice of his own, and would not stand wrong decisions--even if taken by his elders.

The image was blurred around the edges.

"I am leaving for Dwaraka," Arjun announced to his surprised audience. "Prepare for the wedding, King Virata, I will fetch the groom and his guests."

***

Madhav alerted the whole of Dwaraka to Arjun's arrival with a roar of his name so loud that the earth shook.