Love Across Time

Eighty Seven

-𝓐 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷-

Aanya emerged from Kanha's chambers, a fragile shell of the woman who had entered moments ago. Kanha followed close behind, his presence a silent pillar of support. As they stepped into the corridor, a choked sob ripped through the tense silence. A figure came out from the shadows, Draupadi.

Her eyes, red-rimmed and swollen, landed on Aanya. In a single swift motion, Draupadi engulfed Aanya in a crushing hug. The contact sent a fresh wave of pain lancing through Aanya's body, but she ignored it, focusing on the trembling form pressed against her. Draupadi's sobs echoed in the stillness, a raw outpouring of grief and guilt.

Aanya hesitantly wrapped her arms around Draupadi, offering what little comfort she could muster. Tears streamed down Draupadi's face, tracing hot streaks across Aanya's skin. "Don't cry for me," Aanya whispered, her voice hoarse. "I am fine."

Draupadi pulled back, her gaze filled with a desperate intensity. Her trembling hands reached out, tracing the angry red marks marring Aanya's face and arms. "Fine? How can you say that after what they did to you?"

Aanya flinched at the touch, the memory of those hands pulling her in the court, still fresh in her mind. But she forced a weak smile, a shield against the storm of emotions threatening to engulf her. "It will heal, Draupadi. Don't worry."

Draupadi shook her head, her voice thick with unshed tears. "You shouldn't have had to endure this for me. It should have been me."

Aanya's heart clenched. The self-blame in Draupadi's eyes was a mirror to her own turmoil. "No," she said firmly, her voice gaining strength with each word. "This wasn't for you. This was about something bigger, something I don't fully understand yet."

Draupadi stared at her, a flicker of doubt warring with the despair in her eyes. "But..."

"There are no buts, Draupadi," Aanya interrupted gently. "We will face this together, as sisters, as friends. But not out of obligation or guilt. We will fight for what is right, for justice, because that is who we are."

A resolute fire flickered in Aanya's eyes, a testament to the strength Kanha had rekindled within her. The path ahead was uncertain, shrouded in the smoke of war and the scars of her violation. But for the first time since that horrific ordeal, Aanya felt a flicker of hope. She would heal, she would fight, and she would find a way to navigate this.

Her gaze, devoid of the usual warmth that had always drawn the Pandavas to her, flickered across the room, finally landing on Yudhishthir. The fire that once danced in her eyes now blazed with an inferno of righteous fury.

"How could you?" she rasped, her voice raw with a pain that cut deeper than any blade. "How could you stake your wife, your brothers, your entire lineage on a whim? Did the dice not whisper of the consequences, Jyestha?"

Yudhishthir, his shoulders bowed under a weight far greater than any physical burden, could only hang his head in shame. Regret, heavy and suffocating, clung to him like a shroud. "I... I was consumed," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "Consumed by the desperate desire to win back what was rightfully ours. My pride, my foolish pride, blinded me."

"Forgive you?" Aanya spat, the word laced with venom that sent shivers down the spines of everyone present. "Do you even grasp the depths of what they tried to do to me? What they could have subjected Draupadi to?" Her voice rose, echoing through the chamber, a desperate plea for someone, anyone, to understand the enormity of the violation.