|| Never Without You || [ The Tale Of Arjun-Draupadi ] (I)

| 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑬𝑩𝑶𝑹𝑵'𝑺 𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬 |

Forests, En-route to Kaampilya

There was an undeniably sweet fragrance in the air.

That day, Bheem had eaten less. The twins were unnaturally silent. Yudhishthir was smiling occasionally, much to everyone's surprise. The eldest seemed hardly cheerful after being awfully tricked by their cousins; even Bheem did not talk about thrashing Duryodhan that day, which was very unnatural of him.

Sahadev was busy staring at the stars, lying on Bheem's lap, while the latter was curling his luscious tresses unconsciously. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I can't," the youngest Pandav chuckled, confessing honestly. His brother chuckled back, but anyone could say it wasn't even that funny to earn a roaring laughter from Vrikodar. But they hardly seemed to care now.

"Why are you both giggling so much?" Yudhishthir strode towards him with a smile, curiously watching the two of them, who were grinning at him now. He sat on the forest floor, crossing his legs and gazing at them.

"Perhaps the reason you're smiling for Jyesth?" Bheem gave him a cryptic gaze that only Yudhishthir had the capability to decipher. The eldest would always be closest to his next sibling; that was a ritual of this world. Yudhishthir breathed in deeply, understanding it would be futile to stretch it further. He didn't want to be turned into a laughing stock by Bheem and the twins at this hour of night. He shook his head, causing them to burst out laughing again.

The third Pandav smiled softly, his lips curving up, hearing his brothers laughing.

The fire flickering in front of him illuminated his cloudy complexion. His eyes were downcast. He rested his head on his hand, supporting it by his elbow A strand of curl toppled on his forehead due to the paced-up winds, which he removed in a jiffy.

"Hmmmph," He exhaled deeply, scratching his head with a small wooden stick. Shaking his head, he wiped his hand on the floor swiftly, dissolving the faint scribble he had drawn. It had been his habit. It had been a habit for Arjun to trace out the various formations of battle, the Vyuhs, on the forest floors at times. Now deprived of his usual armory chamber, he had no option but to have his way with two-dimensional models.

His brows furrowed instinctively.

His model tonight strangely had a pair of eyes, a nose, and lips. Or was it at all, a model of his formation?

He had thought of constructing one a few moments ago. Heck, he had. But then he smiled a bit to himself. He smiled a bit more. He smiled even further, and then it turned into a grin. And for the first time, he felt ashamed that he had silently rubbed off the half-drawn Vyuh model without any remorse, with a promise that he would never do that again. He side-eyed his brother, Bheem. He was busy gossiping then and would never notice him.

Arjun pursed his lips together to hide that silly smile again. No one should be seeing him do that. Arjun had a reputation to maintain, after all. If Bheem had seen him rubbing the Vyuh and doing that, then that would be him who would be regretting it for days to come.

Well....

He stopped himself from gurgling a snicker. He tilted himself more, leaning forward. "Hmmmph." He sighed longer than before.

Brushing back his hair, Arjun lay on the floor with his head on his arm and a smile.

The warmth of the fire was so comfortable.

Fire—warm fire, flickering fire, glowing fire—fireborn.

Arjun bit the corner of his lips as he let out a short giggle. The fire in front of him was flickering too much. And so were his thoughts. He silently began brushing his hair back, his other hand gilding on the floor lazily with the wooden stick.

Eyes....yes eyes. What did he say? Eyes like the petals of a lotus?

He feathered that stick on the floor, turning around. Lotus petals. Long, curvaceous, and smooth.

Curvaceous, long eyes. Eyes like the petals of a lotus. Blue lotus.

Yeah. He had seen blue lotuses afloat on a little pond a few days ago. He wished he had watched them a bit more keenly than just filling their empty pots with cool water. But he remembered the fragrance of it. The honey bees were loitering around those florals of water.

Intoxicated by its fragrance.

Hairs. Dark blue, thick, and curled. Oh God. He felt weirdly unabashed as he feathered the stick on the floor, drawing long strokes on the mud. His fingers worked faster with the stick, and his heart raced more with each stroke.

Arjun closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply.

What was happening to him nowadays?

The winds picked up more pace, and the atmosphere turned colder. The woodfire flickered and danced madly, with the languid scent of the rain floating in the zephyrs. Clouds cackled, and a spark of lightning hit somewhere far beyond their cottage.

"It looks like it is about to rain." Sahadev sat up, as did Bheem and Yudhishthir. "Arjun! Come inside; it looks like a thunderstorm is brewing!" They brushed their clothes, hurrying up towards their hut, joining Kunti and Nakul.

"Come fast!"

"Yes! Coming...." Arjun faintly responded, gazing up at the darkened clouds, lined with a tinge of redness. The cool winds haywired his knotted tresses that were splattered over his shoulder, flowing to and fro with each gush. He dimmed his lashes as the first droplet of water fell on his palm.

"Arjun!"

"Here, coming!" His lips curled up into a smile. The sky was haywire, like his mind too.

Was this even the season for rainfall?

He exhaled deeply, feeling the light drops of drizzle. His mind felt vain. Since yesterday, a weird sense of both calmness and restlessness has galloped through him. Serene and serendipitous. Edgy and unquiet. Weird. How can he feel such contrasting feelings at the same time?

His heart thudded like thunder. Raced faster than clouds. I was struck like lightning.

The drizzle brisked into a downpour, and the distant roars of thunder echoed along the skies. The winds seemed inebriated, and the raindrops enthralled.

Like Arjun.

The voracious, raging locks of hair were finally adhering to his forehead. He exhaled deeply, his head thrown back, and his lashes dimmed. His lips curving into a smile as he pushed back his dripping hairs. The cool drops trickled down through his neck, revering those slashes of the warrior prince. Honoring them and soothing them. And asking him. Asking him once. For once to obliviate everything that bound him, every worldly negotiation that had trapped him, and for once to sway with the rhythm of his heart.

And answer the distant yearning of the heart.

Krishnaa.

★★★★★★★★★

A/N

First of all, welcome to my book! 🙈✨

This was a kind of prologue for the book; we'll be catching up with the main content from the next chapters.

So, yes, before we begin let me say a few words:-

This book is going to be different from majority of the ArDi books you've read. It will be closely from BORI CE; if I add anything from outside I will SPECIFY it. There will be hardly any sort of sugarcoating I will do, whenever truth is concerned. 

For I am hell tired of seeing how ArDi is portrayed 🙂🙂🙂🙂, and this book has been a fruit of that 'tiredness.'

I am not yet quite ready with the plot, so I will be taking TIME to update it so please do wait. Reading BORI and analyzing it and then putting it mixed with creative liberty is a bit tedious 👉👈. 

Hope you'll will love this book as much you've loved others 🥺👉👈.

Signing off for today!

Kiritija Nushkie