Anya's ancient antics: a mahabharat tale

chapter 37

"Hey guys! Surprise extra chapter just for you! Don’t forget to *vote* and drop a comment—your comments mean the world to me (and keep the characters from going on strike)! 😄"

Duryodhan had just pulled Anya outside of the temple, and the dawn sky bathed the world in soft hues of orange and pink. The cool morning air brushed against her skin, but all she could feel was the storm of emotions swirling inside her. Married. She was married. Tears welled up in her eyes, then spilled down her cheeks like a relentless river.

Noticing her quiet sobs, Duryodhan led her gently to a large, smooth rock nearby and helped her sit. His usually fierce expression softened as he knelt down in front of her, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Anya—" he began, but her sniffles only grew louder, and before he could continue, she suddenly balled her fists and began to lightly punch his arm.

"You tricked me!" she wailed, her voice breaking with emotion as she pounded his arm, though the force behind her blows was no more than a kitten's swats. "You're a cruel idiot! This is not fair!"

Duryodhan, completely unbothered by her weak punches, raised a brow, his amusement growing. He didn’t move, standing there as if he were an immovable wall, allowing her to vent her frustrations. Her tiny fists continued to rain down on him as she pouted fiercely, though it was clear that she was more upset by the situation than by him.

"I wanted a grand wedding!" she cried, stomping her foot like a child. "I didn’t want to get married like this, in some sneaky, quick ceremony. I was supposed to be a cool single girl! I wanted to matchmake people, help others with their love stories!" She sniffled dramatically, her nose crinkling as she wiped it on the back of her hand. "And you didn’t even propose properly! No kneeling, no romantic gesture… just… 'wear this' and 'stand there!' Ugh! If you had just knelt down and asked, I might have… I mean, I *would* have said yes sooner!"

Duryodhan, his usual pride and regal demeanor momentarily forgotten, chuckled softly at her outburst. He found her pouting and frustrated tantrums endearing. She wasn’t used to this—this sudden, overwhelming shift in her life. And despite everything, she was still his Anya, the airhead who made everything seem lighter. He pulled her closer, running his large hand through her blonde hair, smoothing it down gently. Her head rested on his chest, and she buried her face there like a small, vulnerable rabbit seeking comfort.

"You’re just throwing a tantrum," Duryodhan teased, his voice a low murmur against the top of her head. His fingers trailed gently through her hair as she sniffled into his tunic.

"It’s not a tantrum," she mumbled, her voice muffled against his chest. "It’s… it’s just… not how I wanted it to be! And you didn’t even propose properly. I deserve better than that!"

At that, Duryodhan’s eyes gleamed with mischief. Though he was a man of immense pride, kneeling was not something he did—certainly not for anyone but his mother. But for Anya, his little brat of a rabbit, he would make an exception. Slowly, he pulled back from her embrace, causing her to look up at him in confusion. Before she could question him, Duryodhan dropped to one knee in front of her, taking her hand in his.

Anya gasped audibly, her eyes going wide with surprise. "W-what are you doing?" she asked, completely thrown off balance. Her heart raced as she looked down at the sight of him, the mighty Duryodhan, kneeling in front of her.

"Anya," he said, his voice deep and steady, his dark eyes locking onto hers, "will you marry me properly this time?" His expression was serious, but his lips twitched as if he were suppressing a smile.

She blinked, dumbfounded. "You’re… kneeling?" she echoed, disbelief coloring her tone. "You, of all people?"

Duryodhan’s lips curled into a smirk. "I don’t kneel for anyone but my mother," he replied, his voice low and teasing. "But for you, I’ll make an exception."

For a brief moment, Anya just stared at him, her mouth slightly open in shock. Then, a giggle escaped her, quickly followed by another. "Oh my gods," she muttered, wiping her eyes. "You’re such a show-off!" But despite her words, her heart fluttered at the sight. "Okay, okay, I accept your proposal!" she announced dramatically. "But now, you have to praise me more. I want to hear how amazing I am."

Duryodhan’s smirk deepened as he stood back up, pulling her up with him. "You’re incredible," he said softly, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "My stubborn, infuriating little rabbit." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. "And you’re all mine."

Her cheeks flushed a deep red, though she tried to cover it up with a mock scowl. "You didn’t praise me enough!" she huffed, crossing her arms. "Say it again!"

Duryodhan’s amusement grew, but he indulged her whims. "You’re wonderful, my queen. You drive me insane with your tantrums, but I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment as she relaxed into his embrace.

They stood like that for a while, Anya leaning into his chest as she played with the necklace he had given her. The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, all calmed her racing thoughts. Duryodhan’s hands never stopped moving, one tracing soothing patterns along her back, the other running through her hair.

"Do you… like me?" Duryodhan asked softly, tilting her chin up so he could see her face.

Anya huffed, puffing out her cheeks in exaggerated frustration. "Umm… no!" she lied, but her face betrayed her. When Duryodhan’s gaze didn’t waver, she fidgeted, her resolve crumbling. "Okay, yes!" she admitted finally, but then she added with a teasing grin, "But you’re still a rude fox."

Duryodhan chuckled, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "And you’re my little rabbit." He nipped playfully at her earlobe, causing her to squeal and giggle, squirming in his arms.

Her laughter filled the quiet dawn air, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stilled just for them. Anya snuggled back into his chest, her fingers playing with the necklace he wore. "I’m lazy, though," she said softly, her voice small. "I don’t think I can handle all the responsibilities like Draupadi. She’s so strong and capable, and I’m… just me."

Duryodhan’s arms tightened around her protectively. "You don’t have to be Draupadi," he reassured her, his voice firm. "You’ll sit beside me as my queen. That’s all I need."

Anya’s eyes sparkled at the word "queen." She whispered it to herself, testing it out on her lips. "Queen sounds cool…" she murmured, but then her nose wrinkled in worry. "But I don’t know how to cook properly."

Duryodhan laughed, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. "We have servants for that, my love," he said, brushing a kiss on her temple.

For a while, they sat there in comfortable silence, Duryodhan holding her on his lap as she rested against him. Then, breaking the quiet, he said softly, "Call me Arya, just once."

Anya pouted, her bratty side coming out again. "No," she muttered defiantly, but when Duryodhan didn’t press her, she relented after a long pause. "Arya," she whispered shyly, burying her face deeper into his chest to hide her embarrassment.

Duryodhan’s chest rumbled with satisfaction. He lifted her chin, gazing into her eyes. "Good girl," he murmured, brushing a tender kiss across her lips.

But reality soon came crashing back to Anya. As Duryodhan stood up, pulling her with him, he smirked. "Now, let’s go show your brother and Nakul that we’re married."

Anya froze, her eyes widening in horror. "Wait!" she yelped, tugging on his arm. "You can’t be serious! They’re going to kill you!"

Duryodhan’s smirk only grew. "Let them try," he said confidently, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Anya groaned, tugging at his arm like a stubborn child. "This is going to be a disaster," she muttered under her breath. "Why didn’t you just propose properly from the start? Maybe then they wouldn’t be so mad…"

Despite her grumbling, Duryodhan pulled her along, a triumphant grin on his face. There was no turning back now, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on everyone’s faces when they found out.