BURNING HEART

Her eyes widen as she stands before the sight, unprepared and unarmed.

Her smile, her happiness at seeing him after twelve torturous years falls away in a split second that descends her into a chaotic madness, that holds her prisoner.

Her eyes are unfocused, but she cannot mistake the garland around his neck nor the bride at his side.

A choked sob falls from her throat, the aarti thali falling from her now shaking hands in tandem.

The sound is enough to alert all of the Queen's presence, but the archer had caught the essence of her presence well before his companions that stand as a means of ambush to guarantee his entry home. He can hear Duryodhana break out in a laugh that is echoed by his brothers, and the snide remark that leaves the latter's lips next, has his first wife tensing in the limelight.

She seems to sway on her feet at the words, still wrapping her head around the sudden turn of events, her maid catching her arm swiftly to steady the fire born Queen.

His hand stutters at his side, aching in desperation to reach her, to console her and yet he remains fixed at the side of his new wife.

"It seems the Queen of Indraprastha was not made aware of your nuptials dear brother. She would not be only one now, would she?"

A howl of laughter erupts and as his mothers stands at the side of his Jyesth Mata Gandhari, she has the decency to look pitiful for the predicament of the daughter-in-law she had conspired against. The Queen's back straightens regardless of the passing taunts of her marriage and her position.

Her head is held high as she looks his cousin brother in the eye, and as she silences him with a withering glare, his second brother chortles in laughter that he cannot find himself to echo.

He watches as her fists curly tightly and as she bends down to the fallen thali, protests erupting from servants and his mothers; she takes the opportunity to discreetly wipe away at a tear. The archer catches the movement whilst the others play ignorant to it, and as she stands bringing the thali to her head in asking forgiveness, she relays a hushed order to the servant he remembers travelling with her from Panchal. The former disappears upon her order and as she takes a more definitive, self-assured step forward, she passes his mother's gracefully.

She passes his mother a look of assurance. She will not create a scene, not here anyway and it is enough to satisfy his mother who looks upon his new wife with love and affection that his first wife had never truly been given. He sees it in her eyes as she watches his mother, and as her head falls a little too sharply, it is a sigh that she breathes that alerts his Jyesth Mata. She takes her into a half embrace, whispers words of love and promise that he knows does not fix the situation but grounds her enough to look in his general direction.

A mere foot away from her, his gaze softens at the true sight of her. The contours of beauty, her heavenly scent, causes his eyes to close in tranquillity. He feels her gaze then, and it pains his heart that she can only bare to look upon when his gaze is averted. His eyes open despite wishing to give her longer, it is selfish, but he needs her just as she does.

He takes a step forth, a step that is far too confident and impulsive for the circumstances they stand in. Her steps fall back in response, his mother's arm dropping from around her as she does, and the ragged breath she draws is heard by them all. He falls back beside his bride, and as his fire born looks to the Yadav princess, she smiles at her with a kindness that has his heart fracturing.

He waits patiently then for her gaze to return to him, but she denies him cruelly.

His wife does not look at him as foul words linger in the atmosphere, but as her gaze meets his Madhav's, the betrayal in her eyes turns to a numbness that causes them both to wince. Her eyes seem to meet his with reluctance then, her rapid blinking a means to conceal the tears he can almost see gather in her azure eyes, the mark of his element upon his fire born, his eyes bearing her mark upon him. His own eyes tear, despite the hand his anchor places upon him gently. Her gaze falls away from his pleading one at the motion, and her back straightens to a point of rigidity as her maid returns with a thali.

She steps forth before his mother can guide her, and takes the thal gently, a hand coming to cup the flame gently.

"I know my duties mother. I do not require the guidance." There is a slight hiss to her words, and he does not have to look at Duryodhana or his brother's to know they are smiling at the words that are uttered in a moment of hostility.

She takes a heavy breath when the words leave her and ignores the looks that are sent her away in the wake of it.

This time she takes a step forth, and he has half a mind to take one back, his heart thundering and aching at the way she keeps her eyes, her heart, shielded from him. She does her duty by keeping her eyes on his bride, offers her a warm smile, a loving hug and a blessing that leaves his family satisfied.

His mother's step forward to the new bride, as she takes a step back. She takes another as his own brother's come rushing forward in happiness that he cannot match without her, but she turns sharply on her heel and flees the scene.

And as he stands, with a smile that does not quite reach his eyes he follows his flame until he can see her no more.

He pushes from the crowd of his family when he gets the chance, ignoring the voices that sound, he runs after her like a man craving to gain absolution. He supposes he is, a man begging to repent for his sins against her, and as he pulls his crown from his head, his jewellery falling into the hands of one of the many servants in the hall, he takes quick strides to her chambers only to find them empty.

He steps forth regardless, heart pounding, and as his gaze shifts across the chamber his eyes are caught by the painting that sits perched upon a table. A painting of him. His fingertips trail over the portrait gently, an arrow locked onto his bow, hair untamed and eyes ablaze.

"She did that." His Madhav calls from behind him, but his gaze remains transfixed to the painting.

"Your father-in-law would talk about you for hours, his obsessiveness for you was so apparent that I sometimes think your wife was more jealous than enamoured by the thought of you." He laughs gently, and he feels his eyes prick with tears at the reminiscent account of when her life had been simply and pain free.

"Your father-in-law would tell her rather staunchly that she was to be yours, and when she truly began to listen to her father, the look upon her face was priceless. The beat of her heart would speed up, her smile blinding." He looks to his Madhav who smiles fondly.

"I remember watching her paint this, after a particular lengthy conversation with your father about the battle you fought for you Guru, she painted this, recounting every word to me as she did. The detailing was uncanny, and she knew in that moment that she truly was yours." He chokes on a sob then.

"A year after you left for exile, her brother brought her this as a means to still the anxiety we could all see in her gaze without you here with her. She cried when she saw it, and the following year he brought the first one she painted of you." His guide stands then and walks in the opposing direction of the portrait, his fingers fisting the red veil. He brings it down gently and his own eyes soften at the sight.

"Let me tell you it did not have a beard on it when she first painted it. That was an addition that came with her khol after what she only describes as a hit and run at Shiv's Mandir." He finds himself laughing then at the memory.

"An apt description."

"She always knew Paarth. She always knew it was you." He settles a hand upon his shoulder, squeezing gently.

"She may be hurt. She may be angry, but her love for you is constant. It is a necessity that she cannot survive without."

He shakes his head at the words. "She hates me."

He hears his Madhav sigh. "When she opened her eyes in that Yagya, she called your name. Her mind showed her you before she even stepped out because you are fated: in this life, in the next and every other life you have had Paarth. She may hate you, but she still loves you."

He stays silent despite the assurance that his Madhav provides.

"Let's go find your wife. The servants indicated that she was heading in the direction of the Mandir." He stands at the words, accompanied by his soul brother on a trek for his wife.

A gasp falls from his lips at the sight of her, tresses open, ornaments forgone. Her eyes are close as she looks upon the God of Destruction, her feet dancing the dance of destruction he had done for her in a lifetime where he wore the moon upon his forehead, and a snake around his neck. She moves to the beat of the wind, her steps wielding thunder that he was synonymous too. He hears his cousins then, watching the sight alongside his mother and remaining family members.

Her eyes close at the breath of wind that rushes to her, and as words of malice slip from the oldest son of Dhritarashtra fire erupts from the floor. He is forced to take receding steps that are mirrored by members of his family, and as a flame licks wickedly at Duryodhana he pays for his sinful words.

Unaware of the flames, she spins in erraticness, hands transitioning between forms that has the ground shaking beneath their feet. His gaze latches upon her, seeing the trickle of sweat that lingers at her temple and the tears that fall from her eyes.

His father-in-law and brother-in-law, having arrived moments prior in celebration for his long-awaited return breathe shakily at the sight. But it is his mother who gasps with alarm at the shadow of shiv the emanates from her form. He looks to his Madhav who smiles wistfully at the sight, bringing his hand up in greeting that his brother-in-law and father-in-law mimic. His own head bows at the sight of his wife, but his worry amounts, and it is concern shared by them all as the flames grow harsher and hostile.

His brother-in-law, his wife's twin steps into the flames as they bend to his will and pulls her to a halt. Her chest heaves as he speaks words aimed to calm her, but the flames remain, and her eyes harden.

"Sister, please, calm down." He speaks in repetition, changing the order of the phrase here and there as flames wrap around them. He salutes his brother-in-law's grip upon his wife despite her body emanating embers that spark the flames around them.

She pushes her brother out of the flames as gently as she can manage, and his father-in-law shakes his head with a curse slipping from his lips.

"He has always managed to calm her." His father-in-law utters, and as his Madhav looks to him in half expectations, he mirrors his gaze, looking to him.

He cannot think, but his fire born moves and begins her dance of destruction once more in a moment of elegance and grace.

He steps into the flames without a second thought, ignoring his mother's sharp call that his Madhav soon appeases.

He stands as she dances around him, the shadow of the three eyed lord behind her. Her gaze clashes into his then, ablaze.

Her chest heaves, her sindoor scattered and his gaze tenses at the flames that roar at his presence.

His mother from the side calls sharply again, and as he gazes at his wife, he too begins to dance, coaxing her moves out of its destructive nature. She repels his attempts harshly, until he gains the upper hand, pulling her into a position that sets her on a path of control.

The lasya he performs in response to her tandav causes the flames to settle into a less intimidating height, but she still burns, her form emanating a scalding heat. He hears a gasp sound from the side, knows it belongs to his newly wedded wife, who is taken aback at the shadow of Adi shakti that falls from his form in response to Shiv's radiating from her. He ignores the sound and focuses upon her instead.

He smiles gently at her and as her steps halt, his follow dutifully. They stand before each other, a step away, breathing heavily, chests laboured. She looks around then, at the flames she had called forth in the heat of her tandav. Her gaze softens a fraction and as she looks towards him, he takes a decisive step forth as her eyes continue to search his.

She heaves a breath, her skin on fire in the aftermath.

"Arjun, she will burn you." His brother-in-law warns gently, but his mother spits the same words with venom.

He shakes his head gently, his eyes never leaving hers. "She could never hurt me Mother. Not intentionally." Her eyes flicker at his words and sees her resolve fracture.

But her eyes glaze and she falls into his chest in the next breath. Her eyes close and his anxiety awakens at the sight of her unmoving and unresponsive. He calls for her desperately, his tone sharper and harsher with every passing movement, until he stands with her in his arms.

She radiates flames in his arms despite the ones surrounding them falling away as she had fallen, and as his eyes clench, he is reminded of a history when she had burnt.

He looks to his guide then, a ghost of a smile emerging on Narayan's face at the Shiv Ansh who carries his Shakti in a way far too reminiscent of an agonising past.

He looks at her in his arms, head resting against his pectoral and hands limp at her side.

He takes rushed steps to her chambers; lays her gently against the silk sheets that adorn her bed. He falls to her side on his knees then, eyes searching her face for a sign of consciousness that he knows is far too hopeful in the wake of circumstances. He settles a palm to her forehead then, breathes harshly before muttering a soft prayer to her celestial father.

The God disperse the flames from his daughter and as her tense forehead relaxes, he breathes in relief.

His hand ghosts the contours of her face then, skimming gently over her heated cheeks and ghosting to move through her hair that remains upon her face. His eyes roam across her face, taking her in after twelve long years; and as he notices every line, every break in what he had memorised years prior he takes the opportunity to unite with her in silence.

It is a coward's way he knows, but she will awake heart heavy and aching. He can almost predict the wall she will erect in response and so he watches her in the remaining night and darkening skies. A moment of solace for his burning heart.

Author's Note: So, this one shot is very close to my heart. I do hope you enjoy it. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this one.