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

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝟷𝟿

Kaampilya, Paanchaal

 Ever since the Swayamvar had subsided, things were in a toll for the royals. 

They had not expected that outburst. 

Drupad paced back at forth at the palace corridor restlessly, peering from the balcony every now and then. The moon was bright up in the cloudless sky, the blistery winds of the winter rustling through the aged man's grey hairs. He looked down every moment, counting for an attendant to inform his son's arrival. 

He gritted his teeth, feeling terrible and empty. The audacity of those Kshatriyas. . .how dare they? How could they? 

And now he was only left with the hope that Dhrishtadyumn would return with some news of his daughter; and his patience was drowning every moment. 

He leaned against the balcony, holding his head on his palms and resting his elbows over railing. 

What did happen. . .

Only God knew who that Brahmin was, who took away his daughter. 

His heart did a dip, he seemed so familiar, but why? He had seen those large, amber eyes before; filled with prodigy and refined with purpose. The way he picked up the Kindhura with ease. . .

When he was waiting for Arjun. 

He had made Kindhura so that none but Arjun could do it. 

Was that Brahmin really, Arjun? 

He didn't knew why but his heart at the moment was filling with all the wild thoughts; replaying again and again the same news that the Pandavas couldn't escape from the Lakshagriha. All the five along with Kunti were burned to death, with their weapons. There was no chance to survive. 

He that day, had not believed a single word of his messengers. 

They were invincible. The Pandavas who had single handedly taken down half of his army. . .just couldn't perish in a mere fire. 

They couldn't. 

But now. . .

As the days passed, he had hoped of some, some news of them. He prayed someday he would get a hint of them being alive. But he still counted on the stars.

He had taken no efforts short to spread far and wide the news of Swayamvar, of his daughter, the task. . .so that atleast for once they would be there were the crowd would be. He had made sure to scatter his men everywhere, so that any suspicion among the common folk would be reported to him.

They can't meet the fate of Paandu, like that, so soon.

He had thought of his dearest friend. His progeny, were exactly like him. Devoid of the malice of what persisted in Hastinapur. When he had first saw them at the Paanchaal war, he immediately knew they were. . . .probably doing it for the sake of Dron. And they had to, he understood. 

Though he was distraught with anger with the loss of Ahicchatra and defeat, he could never hate the Pandavas. He could never, he had never. 

It was just a wrong time and wrong place.

And the only way to bridge the gap between Pandavas and him, was Draupadi. 

Just as he befriended Paandu out of everyone from Hastinapur, in-spite of the raging differences, he wanted to secure his sons as well. That was a silent promise he had made the day, he heard about the demise of his beloved friend; that if any day he got a chance,  he would whole-heartedly shelter his sons and Kunti in his abode. Only a call was all that he need from them. He didn't know why, he just didn't want the Pandavas to stay with the Hastinapur royals. It wasn't only the enmity with Hastinapur, he always felt them so. . . .they just didn't sit right with him.