Tears Of Destiny

Subhadra-Arjun

The salty tang of the sea mingled with the incense smoke of Somnath, painting the air with a bittersweetness that mirrored Arjuna's heart. His exile was nearing its end, a bittersweet victory that brought with it a gnawing ache for what he'd left behind. Krishna's cryptic words, whispered before the long journey began, echoed in his mind: "Seek solace in Somnath, for there fate will weave a new thread in your tapestry."

And there, amidst the chanting priests and austere beauty of the ancient temple, he found it. Not solace, not yet, but a glimpse of the fiery thread that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed composure. He saw her, radiant in the dappled sunlight, her laughter echoing like temple bells. Subhadra, his first love, a vision draped in the silk of devotion, distributing food to the assembled sages.

Her eyes, pools of emerald still shimmering with unshed tears, didn't recognize him. He was a stranger in saffron robes, another face in the throng of seekers. Yet, to him, she was a constellation etched on his soul, a melody his heart sang even in the darkest nights of exile.

He yearned to speak, to bridge the chasm of time and circumstance, to reclaim the love they'd stolen from each other's arms. But as she turned, her gaze flitting to the woman beside her, Vritika, the words died on his tongue. A silent understanding passed between the sisters, a shared burden of secrets and unspoken wishes.

Vritika's eyes, sharp as a falcon's, met his for a fleeting moment. A flicker of recognition, a silent plea for caution. And Arjuna, ever the warrior, swallowed his yearning. He couldn't risk jeopardizing the delicate web of circumstance, the fragile hope of a future where his love might yet bloom.

So, he bowed his head, accepting the prasad she offered, the touch of her hand a whisper on his palm. And as he walked away, the scent of jasmine clinging to his robes, he carried with him not just the taste of sanctified food, but the bittersweet ache of a love that refused to be silenced.

The exile was ending, but the true battle, the battle for Subhadra's heart, was only just beginning.

The palace gates swung open, revealing Vritika and Subhadra returning from their visit to Somnath. Krishna, a mischievous glint in his eyes, intercepted them in the courtyard.

"Ah, Choti! Did the temple bring you peace?" Krishna inquired, his voice teasing.

Subhadra, her emerald eyes still holding a hint of wistfulness, managed a smile. "Yes, brother. My heart feels a little lighter now."

Krishna's smile deepened, knowing the source of her newfound peace. "No wonder, when you met the one who can mend any turmoil," he said, his words laced with a playful nudge.

Subhadra's brow furrowed slightly. "Who are you talking about, brother?" she feigned ignorance, her cheeks warming with a blush.

"Why, Bholenath, of course!" Krishna chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "He can calm the most agitated seas, can't he?"

Subhadra's smile faltered, a flicker of sadness passing through her eyes. Rukmini and Revati's summons provided a welcome distraction, and with a hurried goodbye, she retreated into the palace.

Vritika, sharp as ever, remained. "Arjun was there at Somnath, wasn't he?" she asked, her voice low and direct.

Krishna's smile turned knowing. "My dear sister, your eyes are as keen as mine. You see through every illusion."

"But how will he attend the Swayamvar?" Vritika demanded, her voice laced with frustration. "His exile ends soon, and his duty lies in Indraprastha."

Krishna sighed, the weight of his scheming evident on his face. "The web of destiny is intricate, Vritika. Duty and love can dance a delicate waltz, especially when vows offer room for interpretation." He paused, his gaze unwavering. "Tell me, wouldn't Dwarka welcome Subhadra as a daughter, a queen in spirit even if not in title? Wouldn't that ease Arjuna's burden, knowing his love is safe within these walls?"