Love Across Time

Seventy Nine

-𝓘𝓷𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮 𝓒𝓲𝓻𝓬𝓵𝓮-

Twelve years. Four thousand three hundred and eighty sunrises, each one a silent tick of the clock counting down to this moment. The promise etched in their hearts, a promise whispered on the wind, was finally about to be kept. Arjun was returning to Indraprastha.

A palpable electricity thrummed in the very air of the grand palace. Gone was the quiet hum of daily life, replaced by a vibrant undercurrent of buzzing anticipation. Flags danced a joyous jig in the warm breeze, their jubilant flutter a reflection of the excitement coursing through the veins of every inhabitant. The melody of celebration wafted through the halls, joyous music painting joyous soundscapes.

Bheem, usually a man whose booming laughter needed no coaxing, practically vibrated with suppressed energy. His booming guffaws echoed through the halls, a stark contrast to the quiet intensity that usually simmered beneath the surface. Even the ever-stoic Yudhishthira allowed a rare, genuine smile to grace his lips, the weight of leadership momentarily lighter under the promise of a reunited brotherhood. Nakul, a whirlwind of nervous energy, flitted about like a hummingbird on sugar, weaving fantastical tales of unimaginable feasts and daring escapades that awaited Arjun's return. Even the usually contemplative Sahdeva had a spring in his step, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

The days leading up to Arjun's arrival were a whirlwind of focused activity. Skilled artisans, their faces etched with a shared purpose, toiled tirelessly, crafting intricate garlands woven from exotic flowers to adorn the palace gates. From the bustling kitchens, a symphony of aromas arose promising a feast fit for a returning hero. Every corner of Indraprastha, from the bustling courtyards to the quiet chambers, whispered a silent welcome. It was a testament to the unwavering loyalty and love that had endured twelve long years of exile, a testament to the unbreakable bond that bound the Pandavas together.

Scattered by misfortune, forced to walk separate paths, they were finally on the precipice of being whole again. The return of Arjun wasn't just the homecoming of a warrior. It was the missing piece that would complete their tapestry. It was a promise of a brighter future, a hope etched in the joyous anticipation that hung heavy in the air, a promise that resonated in every beating heart within the walls of Indraprastha.

A plume of dust rose like a golden halo around the chariot thundering to a halt before the grand gates of Indraprastha. The once-familiar rumble of the wheels now echoed a foreign tune in Arjun's ears, a melody woven with the yearning of twelve long years. His deep brown eyes, though weathered by hardship, held the same warmth as he scanned the figures eagerly gathered there. A familiar warmth, a balm to his weary soul, bloomed in his chest as he saw his brothers, their smiles, the sun breaking through storm clouds.

But amidst the joyous greetings, the crushing hugs, and the vibrant displays of welcome, a different kind of longing gnawed at his heart. His gaze, sharp and hungry, swept past the familiar faces, past the jubilant throng, searching for a specific bloom in this vibrant garden. Where was she, the one who haunted his dreams and fueled his determination through years of exile?

"Are you waiting for someone, Bhrata Arjun?" Nakul's teasing voice broke through the haze of his searching. Arjun shook his head, a touch too quickly, the forced composure a stark contrast to the storm brewing within.

"Panchali?" he inquired, his voice a mere murmur.

She emerged, a radiant vision in a silken sari, the years having merely sharpened her beauty. As she performed the aarti, the rhythmic clinking of the bells seemed to mock the frantic questions hammering in his mind. The disappointment that flickered across his features settled into a frown as he realized she was alone. Where was Aanya?