The royal guards breathed in relief as the five horses and palanquin entered the gates of the palace. 

The footpaths of Hastinapur were not visible due to the crowd gathered. Everyone came out of their houses, left their shops unattended just to get a glimpse of their saviours, their princes. They had returned, the Pandavas had returned. 

The route that took only half an hour to cover, was completed in four hours. The five princes awkwardly addressed the crowds, nodding, waving and joining their hands. The people of Hastinapur were rejoicing. The chants were clear.

'Yudhishtira'

'Bhima'

'Arjuna'

'Nakul'

'Sahdev'

Meanwhile, Draupadi was sweating, she had no idea how the royal women managed to travel in palanquins. She had no interest in not seeing the beauty of the world, but as tradition, the bride had to arrive in a palanquin. She never had used a palanquin, she liked her stallion just fine. The tall woman had to crouch her head a little to fit in. The drapes were very thick but the sun managed to seep in, making the small space too hot. Draupadi resisted the thought of escaping from the palanquin and jumping on the back of a horse, right now she would even walk. The clothes didn't make it any easier. She had threatened him last time, she knew she had to murder him now. It seemed to Draupadi that the designer had appareled her with the heaviest clothes he could find, and thick too. She had one piece of cloth attached to her hair, another draped around her shoulders, another like a cape, and one more curling around her forearms. She had no idea how she would even get out of the palanquin, leaving walking. But anyhow, she wanted to get out of the sweaty palanquin. The palanquin finally came to a stop. Draupadi breathed a sigh of relief. Finally.

Arjuna was at the right of the eldest Pandava, next to Nakul. On Yudhistira's left stood Bhima, the second twin beside him. The five of them had just stepped down from their horses. They turned around to the sound of anklets tinkling. Arjuna had talked to Draupadi about he could not suppress his feelings how she did, to which she had replied, I just keep reminding myself that my memories cannot be taken away from me. Arjuna had not yet mastered at the suppression, his mouth fell open. Draupadi looked majestic, even if Draupadi wanted to strangle the designer with the dupatta he only made, she couldn't help admiring the work he had done, she felt majestic. She walked towards the Pandavas, her long red net cape caressing the flowers laid down on the ground. Her red and gold embroidered angavastram pinned, fluttered as much as it could. The gold silk dupatta draped across her shoulders made her look more regal if it was possible. The one curled around the forearms flowed freely in the air. Her 10 kg lehenga had gold work so intricate that one would need a magnifying glass to see all the finer details. The gold piece of cloth covering her black locks adorned with the chudamani, defining her facial features. Her arched eyebrows crowning her fiery eyes, her long sculpted nose adorned with a nath giving attention to her cheekbones, her lips neither thin nor full, reddened with beetroot extract. Her sharp jawline attracted attention. So did her collar bones barely visible through the cascade of jewellery on her bosom. Her bangles on her wrists and the anklets jingled as she walked. Laboriously she walked to her husbands, all mouths open by now. She smirked.

"Close your mouths husbands, do not want a fly entering them." loud enough so that only they could hear. The brothers got themselves together, making way for their wife. Now Draupadi stood between Yudhistira and Arjuna. They walked the extremely long flight of stairs, now standing in front of the interim King and Queen of Hastinapur. Beside them stood a barrel-chested man bedecked with white apparels and silver jewellery, his face hidden with a white flowing beard, showcasing a hint of a smile. Senapati Bhishma. On his left stood a modest-looking man, the only one wearing a turban, his face emitting knowledge. Mahamantri Vidur. On the other side of the blind ruler stood a dark-skinned muscular man, his curly hair reaching his shoulders. He wore clothes fit for a Crown Prince, his purple angavastram added to his menacing aura. His face showing disgust.  Yuvraj Duryodhana. On his right stood an old man half his size, one of his legs crippled. He was clad in clothes which were only worn in the regions in the north-west of India. He was smiling creepily. Gandharraj Shakuni.

"Pranipat Tatshree!" said Yudhistira kneeling to touch the feet of Dhritarashtra. The brothers and Draupadi followed suit. 

"Where are the other four brides, Panduputras? We were told all five of you have wedded." asked Shakuni.

Draupadi spoke, "Pranipat, Gandharraj! Why do you need four more daughters-in-laws when I am here. I am myself called by five names. I am Yodhini, the woman who carries weapons. I am Panchali, the woman who rules Panchal. I am Yagyaseni, the woman born from fire. I am Draupadi, the woman who is the Kulvadhu of the Kuruvansh."

Author's note: I am providing a vocabulary for words you may be unfamiliar with:

Mahamantri - A position like that of a Prime Minister

Vidur - The Mahamantri of Hastinapur the smallest brother of Dhritrashtra and Pandu

Yuvraj - Hindi for Crown Prince

Gandharraj - Literally the King of Gandhar, current-day Afghanistan

Shakuni - The king of Gandhar, the maternal uncle of Duryodhana

Tatshree - Hindi for elder paternal uncle