Nothing's Conventional About Us

XXVII ~ Sangria

The red smoked, 
Dark and addictive and smoking low.
It was death and devastation and fear,
And yet some whispered,
 It was freedom, it was prosperity.
 Well, prosperity can also be underlined by some bloodshed.
And now that we are back, 
Shall we begin?

Sangria

Bheeshma stilled, every muscle torn between resignation and protest. But what was he to protest against? These two creatures that he had once known as two extraordinarily gifted people? These two creatures capable of unbelievable carnage? Or two young royals striving to deliver justice?

"And how do you plan to do that?", he asked still, the blood of the Gods that mingled with human crimson in his veins, raging to life. 

"You see, Grand Regent", footsteps as graceful and slow as a stalking feline predator's brought the voice closer to him from where it stood behind him in the dark, the ominous red giving way to his grand-nephew's dark, stately form, "The people would believe the Pandavas to the Kauravas any day, and all it would take is one public announcement of the assassination attempt."

Bheeshma's eyes narrowed. That was something that could throw the entire kingdom into absolute chaos. But it was not that which caused his apprehension. It was the blank expression on the Pandava Prince's perfectly sculpted, dark face and that vicious glint in his sangria eyes. 

"Or?"

Now the Prince smirked, a detached sort of expression that could chill hearts or win them, all at once. 

"Alternatively, we can draw every single person out of this already-declining Kingdom and straight into the heart of a life they have all, undoubtedly, dreamt of. The life that Lord Rama had sacrificed everything to give to his people, and the life that we can easily conquer over every bit of the known world to give them.", he looked so leisurely while speaking of wars that would bring every ruler of the known world to their knees, so in his element, and that almost irked the forever-steady Grand Regent of Hastinapura. 

"And then", his eyes now pierced that of Ganga's mortal son's, "Hastinapura can fall to war. You know it, I know it - it will fall, and none of you can stop that."

"Those are two very different ways.", the Grand Regent stated, skeptical of how just five Princes, no matter how extraordinary, could accomplish such a feat. 

"Certainly.", it was the Panchala Princess who spoke now, "But you see, it is all about knowing the right people in the right places."

"Who do you know that could make that possible?", the aging demi-God's voice was now louder, rising as his frustration rose. 

A primal snarl of rage reverberated in the silence of the Grand Regent's suite, the air seeming to heat up. 

"You do not speak to my wife like that.", the War deity's voice was calm, the coldness of the rage in it searing. 

"I-", the Grand Regent's speech floundered, maybe after decades, "I do not understand.", he finally said, bewildered and almost robbed of his voice. 

"You do not need to understand anything beyond the fact that she is mine and I am hers and you do not speak to her like that and live to see another moment - your boon be damned.", the dark God now strode to stand right in front of his so-called grandfather.

"Oh, and you do not get a choice any more. See you again when you are a Regent of a vassal state. Till then, have my respect and regards.", his words were spoken almost casually and the last sentence almost sounded like a mockery.