Nothing's Conventional About Us

XXVI ~ Lavender

Lavender is the colour of peace,
Of blissful warmth
And shimmering dreams
But for once, let us call it
The colour of extravagant victory
The colour of lifting your chin
And looking down,
The colour of planning a demise
Or a few. 

Lavender 

"Before I even forget to ask", she rolled her lips against each other, moistening them from whatever remnants of the sweet balm that she had glamoured onto them, and continued, "Where are we even going?"

He chuckled, a velvety sound warmer than the dying rays of the sun beating down upon them, and replied, "We are saving the best for the last. For now, we will just go and have some fun."

"Best?", she scoffed, "More like, the worst. And certainly the most inevitable."

"Indeed.", he hummed, the sound of their trotting horses almost drowning out the nearly inaudible response, "And that is exactly why  we need some incentive when we meet our  dear parents."

"Incentive such as the reigns of the great Lunar Dynasty under your feet?", she did not turn to look at him as her lips curled in a smirk that promised malice. 

"More like the reigns of the whole Aryavarta. How does that sound?"

Her eyes finally glided away from the dilapidated, sun-lit forest path to meet his, the smirk gone from her lips only to find its place on his, his dark crimson irises glinting like blood-rubies. 

"Beautiful. That sounds beautiful."

~~~

Subhadra was yet to figure out why they had to leave Hastinapura so early in the morning, and why her brother had simply dismissed the Panchala Princess's absence during their see-off as an afterthought. She simply thought it was strange how her brother's lips had curled into a beautiful, crooked grin when he had seemingly reassured the pensive-looking King of Hastinapura that they would stay in touch through his dearest friend Arjuna. 

It had seemed like some secret threat, sounded like a merciless premonition. 

But what had felt stranger still was how so many faces around them had suddenly blanched. How Vidura's eyes had suddenly grown panicked and met Bheeshma's, whose face had suddenly become taut with alarm. 

Right now, on their way back to Dwarka, her brother's relaxed demeanour was beginning to get under her skin. 

She knew that there was some very close-knit bond of friendship amongst her brother, the third Pandava and the Panchala Princess, but she could not tell, for the life of her, how she could just sense that this thing - whatever it was - was connected to that. It felt strange to even think that way.

So, when the convoy halted for the night, camping close to a  river, the first thing she did was seek her brother out - her brother, who sat caressing a sleepy squirrel in his hands, his feet resting on a rock that the clear river water kept damp. 

"Why did your dear friend not come to see you off?", she did not mean to sound as impolite as she probably did, but she really needed to know. 

Her brother, his presence a star-lit silhouette in the dark, seemed to relax at it, instead of tensing up. He was a creature of dark grace and light charm, a gorgeous blend of everything divine and with an insurmountable intimidation lurking underneath. She could see what people saw and respected, what charmed and what intimidated and what awed. 

The three of them were so similar in this regard, her brother and his two friends. One could never know if to love more or revere more or fear more. 

Krishna simply tilted his head slightly to a side, his fingers still diligently stroking the tiny critter's back, with a care that could stun her eyes. So very diligent, as if it were not a forest creature but a beloved child, a child of love.