Love Across Time : Mahabharat

Ninety Eight : A Shadow Lifts

-𝓐 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓭𝓸𝔀 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓽𝓼-

A frantic energy crackled through the Matsya palace, shattering the serene haven it had been for the past year. The once tranquil halls now pulsed with a frenetic tension, a stark contrast to the hushed whispers and gentle music that had filled them for so long. Outside, the rhythmic boom of war drums vibrated through the very walls, a deep, primal sound that seemed to shake the foundations of the palace itself. Punctuating this relentless rhythm were the guttural roars of battle cries, each one a chilling echo of the nightmares that had plagued Aanya's sleep in nights.

Rushing into the room, she found Draupadi sitting by the window, her head bowed and fingers tracing nervous patterns on the silken floor covering. The despair etched on her usually radiant face mirrored the turmoil within Arjun, who stood motionless by the latticed window. Sunlight streamed through the gaps, casting long shadows that seemed to writhe and contort like the anxieties gnawing at him.

"Arjun, what is all this?" Aanya whispered to her husband, her voice barely audible above the distant chaos. It emerged ragged and laced with a tremor of fear, a stark contrast to its usual confident lilt. Her question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of a brewing storm that threatened to break at any moment.

Arjun turned, his normally vibrant eyes clouded with a deep frown. He looked at Aanya, his heart twisting at the fear he saw reflected in her eyes. "King Susharma of Trigarta has attacked Matsya, Aanya," he replied, his voice devoid of its usual vibrancy, coming to hold her hand. The weight of responsibility and the helplessness of being sidelined gnawed at him. He yearned to be shoulder-to-shoulder with his brothers, defending the kingdom that had become their refuge. Yet, Yudhishthira's orders echoed in his head, a stark reminder of his assumed identity as Brihannala, the talented dancer, not the mighty warrior.

Aanya's brow furrowed in confusion. "But why? What sparked this sudden attack?" Kingdoms, especially those governed by wise rulers like Maharaj Virata, rarely went to war on a whim. Aanya sensed something more sinister at play, a hidden agenda lurking beneath the surface.

Arjun's reply was a frustrated shrug. "That's the way of the world, Aanya," he said, his voice laced with a bitterness that belied his usual optimism. "One kingdom, threatened by the rising power of another, seeks to crush it before it can blossom." He turned back towards the window, his gaze fixed on a plume of smoke rising ominously in the distance. The acrid stench of burning wood and iron carried on the wind, a grim reminder of the carnage unfolding just beyond the palace walls.

"Are you going?" Aanya asked, her voice trembling slightly despite her attempt at composure.

Arjun shook his head, his jaw clenching with a silent battle raging within. "No," he finally said, the word a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "Jyestha has asked me to stay here. Seeing a woman fighting alongside the men would raise questions about my identity, about all our identities."

A wave of dread washed over Aanya. Her eyes widened as the realization hit her. "So, Maharaj Virata knows about us now?" she questioned, a sliver of fear flickering across her features. The precariousness of their existence in Matsya had always been a looming threat. Now, with their secret exposed, the fragile web of security they had woven threatened to unravel at the seams.

Arjun gave a curt nod, a heavy silence descending upon them. The realization hung in the air, thick and suffocating. The life they had built here, the sense of normalcy and belonging, was on the verge of vanishing.

A choked gasp shattered the silence. Draupadi, who had been a silent observer till now, looked up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "These are our last days if someone finds out about us," she whispered, her voice barely a tremor. "It meant another cycle of exile, another life on the run."