Krishna's eyes widened as he stared at the pool forming on the floor beneath Devashree.He stood frozen for a heartbeat longer before snapping into action. 

"Right! Right! Okay, okay... don't panic, everything's going to be fine!" he rambled, though his voice betrayed a slight tremble.

"Calm Swami."

"Right, right. Stay calm. I'm calm. Don't panic Shree" He clearly wasn't calm because his hands fumbled slightly as he wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her.

Devashree raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not panicking, Swami. You are."

Krishna's eyes widened. "Me? No, no... I'm calm! Completely calm!" He glanced around wildly. "I just need to—uh—get someone! Dau! DAU! Guards!" he yelled. "Fetch the midwives! Now! And prepare the birthing chamber!"

 Devashree grabbed his hand. "Swami, breathe." Her voice was steady, though a flicker of nervousness crossed her features. "It's happening. Our baby is coming."

"But... but it's too early! It's a month and a half too early!"

Realization dawned on her. "

Oh no... you're right. Swami... it's too early!" Her calm demeanor shattered, and pure panic flickered across her face. "What if something goes wrong? Swami... what do we do?"

His own heart was pounding as he grabbed her by the shoulders. "Shh, Priye, it's going to be okay," he said.

Devashree nodded shakily, "But... it's  really too soon," she whispered again, her breath hitching as she felt another pang. "What if something—"

Krishna cupped her face gently, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Shh, Devashree. Listen to me. It's going to be okay. We're going to get you to the birthing chamber right now. I'll grab the things, help you change into a robe, and we'll be ready. Just breathe, okay?"

She nodded, though her breath came in shallow, rapid bursts. "But... it shouldn't be happening this early.....especially now that the amniotic sac has ruptured.... "

Krishna shook his head firmly, though panic was clawing at the back of his mind. "No, no, Priye. Don't think like that. Our child will be fine. We'll get you the best care. But first, we have to stay calm. Let's go"

Devashree winced as a small contraction gripped her, but she kept walking, trusting in her husband's presence beside her.

Once inside their chamber, Krishna grabbed a soft robe from a nearby chest and helped Devashree change out of her saree "I've got you, Priye," he murmured. "We'll get through this together."

Devashree nodded, trying to stay calm as another contraction rippled through her abdomen. "Swami..." she whispered, her voice strained. Krishna met her gaze, brushing a gentle kiss across her forehead.

"I'm here," he promised, helping her slip into the robe. 

Together, they made their way down the corridor, moving as fast as they could. When they reached the entrance of the birthing chamber, the sight before them gave Krishna some relief—Mata Rohini, Mata Devaki, Revati Bhabhi, and Mata Madhulika were already there, surrounded by midwives.

"Bring her inside," Mata Rohini instructed though her eyes betrayed her worry. "Quickly, before the labor advances."

Krishna moved to follow, but Mata Devaki stepped in his way. "You can't come in, Krishna," she said gently but with authority. "This is the women's space now."

Krishna's eyes widened in protest. "But Mata I need to—"

Mata Devaki placed a firm hand on his shoulder, her gaze softening as she looked at her son. "No, you don't. Right now, your place is outside. The midwives and we will take care of Devashree. You've done all you can."

Krishna's mouth opened to argue again, but Mata Devaki shook her head. "Krishna, you must trust us. Trust the women who have done this many times before. She is in capable hands."

Krishna's breath hitched in his throat, torn between the overwhelming urge to be by Devashree's side and the logic of his mother's words. His gaze flickered to Devashree, who was being led further into the chamber by her mother and the midwives, her back hunched as she winced through another contraction. His heart ached to be near her, to offer her comfort.

 "She'll be fine, Devarji. Your role now is to wait. Let us take care of her." Revati placed a comforting hand on his arm.

Krishna clenched his fists at his sides, frustrated and helpless. But seeing the resolute expressions of the women surrounding him, he knew there was no winning this argument. "I don't like this," he muttered under his breath, but he took a step back nonetheless.

Mata Rohini gave him a reassuring smile. "None of us do, Krishna. But this is how it's always been. Trust in your wife's strength, and trust us to bring her and your child safely through this."

Krishna exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as the door was closed in his face. "It's not my wife I don't trust," he murmured, "She's the strongest woman I've ever known. It's the games of destiny that worry me... " he whispered to himself as he sank to the ground in front of the closed door, a wave of helplessness washing over him. His back rested against the cool stone, and he let out a heavy sigh, allowing his head to fall back slightly as he closed his eyes. 

Just then, he felt a gentle but firm hand land on his shoulder. 

He opened his eyes to see Pita Vasudev standing beside him, his expression calm yet filled with an understanding that only a father could possess. 

"Krishna," he began, his voice soothing, "I know this feels overwhelming, but you must remember that your presence, even from here, can offer Devashree strength. She knows you are with her."

"But I should be there for her. I should be holding her hand, telling her that everything will be all right," he replied.

Soon the screams started from inside the chamber.

"Devashree!" he shouted instinctively. The scream was followed by another, more desperate than the last.

Pita Vasudev's grip on his shoulder tightened, but Krishna shook it off, desperation rising like a tide within him. "I have to go in there!" he insisted, moving towards the door.

"Krishna, you must stay," his father urged. "She is surrounded by those who love her and know what to do. You cannot help her by rushing in. You must be strong, for her sake and for the child."

But Krishna's mind was in turmoil. The sounds of struggle, the echoes of his wife's cries, were unbearable. He felt as if his very soul were being torn apart by her pain. "I can't just sit here!" he shouted, his voice hoarse.

Just then, another scream pierced the air, more agonizing than the last, and Krishna's heart sank further. 

"Trust them, Krishna," Pita Vasudev said firmly. "Your place is to wait, to be the strength outside, even if it feels like a prison right now."

 You're mistaken Pitashree. He wanted to say but the respect for his father held him back. Krishna bit back tears of frustration and helplessness as he leaned against the door.

Time had never moved so slowly. Each moment testing his patience. He paced back and forth, anxiety gnawing at him. Every muffled cry from Devashree sent a fresh wave of worry through him, tightening the knot in his stomach. He leaned against the wall, pressing his ear against the heavy door, desperate for any sign of progress.

Minutes dragged on like hours and the hours dragged on mercilessly, time stretching like an endless thread. Krishna paced again, running a hand through his hair, unable to shake the gnawing tension in his chest.

Another cry from within the chamber—the sound more guttural, more painful than before—sent a shiver through him. His hand instinctively reached for the door handle, but he stopped himself. He had to trust the midwives. 

But gods, it was harder than any war he had ever fought.

Would Devashree be alright? Would their child come into this world safely?

He closed his eyes, whispering a silent prayer to the gods.

Please... protect them both.

Inside the chamber, Devashree lay on the bed, her brow slick with sweat, the pain from each contraction hitting her like waves crashing against a shore. She gripped the sheets, her knuckles white as she fought against the waves of agony, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

Mata Rohini and Mata Devaki moved around her, "Stay with us, Devashree," Mata Rohini urged,  as she wiped the sweat from Devashree's brow. "You're doing wonderfully. Just breathe."

Devashree nodded, though the strain of her breaths betrayed her struggle. "It hurts," she gasped, a fresh wave of contractions gripping her abdomen, forcing a soft cry from her lips.

"It's alright, my dear," Mata Devaki encouraged. "You're strong. Remember, every moment brings you closer to holding your child. Just think about the moment you will hold your baby in your arms."

"Is it supposed to take this long?" Devashree managed to whisper, her voice strained. She recalled how none of her previous pregnancies were this long. Maybe being immortal made the difference.

"It often does," Mata Rohini replied. "You're doing all the right things. Trust in your body and in this process. It's the path every mother walks."

The midwives exchanged concerned glances as they checked Devashree's progress. One of them looked grave as she turned to the others. "She's not even two centimeters dilated yet," she reported, her tone low and urgent. "This is concerning, especially since the labor began so early."

"With a premature birth, we need to be cautious. If she isn't progressing soon, we may have to consider other options. It's not safe for her or the baby to continue like this for much longer"

The mothers huddled closer, their faces painted with anxiety. "Is there nothing we can do to help her?" Mata Madhulika asked, desperation creeping into her voice.

"We'll keep her as comfortable as possible," the older midwife replied, "But the truth is, we need her body to do the work.

"I can't... I can't do this forever," Devashree gasped between contractions. They were hitting now with full might. Why wasn't it dilated yet?  Her body trembled as another wave of pain crashed over her, sharper and more relentless than before. Her fingers dug into the soft bedding beneath her, knuckles turning white as she tried to find something to anchor her through the agony.She bit back a scream. 

"If the dilation doesn't progress soon, we may need to intervene. The sac is already broken so the baby needs to come out soon." 

Devashree heard the midwife and fear clawed at her insides. "What does that mean?" she gasped, looking up at them with wide, frightened eyes.

"The baby's not in the right position," one whispered urgently.

"Her body's not progressing enough for delivery. It's been too long."

"The baby hasn't moved. I'm worried about both the mother and the child."

Devashree's heart dropped. Her breathing became ragged, and a cold wave of fear swept over her. 

Worried about the baby? The words echoed like a curse in her mind. Panic surged through her, seeping into her bones and overwhelming her senses.

Something's wrong, her mind screamed. What if her child didn't make it? What if she couldn't bring this life into the world? What if she missed this chance again? To have her baby?

Her mind began to spiral. 

What if she fails her Tanu?

Terror seized her chest, and suddenly, the walls of the chamber seemed to close in. Every word the midwives spoke felt like an omen. The fear became unbearable, clawing at her sanity.

"No, no, no..." she whimpered, "Swami..." The word slipped from her lips as a desperate cry, barely a whisper at first, but then louder—"SWAMI!" 

The desperate sound of Devashree's cry pierced through him like an arrow. His patience snapped, and something deep within him surged to the surface.

Without a second thought, Krishna stormed toward the doors of the birthing chamber. They opened for him as though commanded by his very will, the wood groaning as it gave way to his  presence.

"Krishna!" Vasudev called, moving to stop him, but Krishna ignored his father's attempts to hold him back. Balram stepped forward too, but the look in Krishna's eyes silenced them both. 

He moved like a force of nature, determined, unrelenting.

The midwives froze in shock as he crossed the room with long, determined strides, heading straight for Devashree. She lay there, drenched in sweat, her eyes wide with panic, her face pale from exhaustion. When she saw him, she reached out, grasping for him as though he were her only tether to reality.

"Save my baby, Krishna, please!" she cried, her voice trembling, the fear in her eyes unlike anything he had ever seen.

Krishna knelt beside her, cupping her face gently, his heart breaking at the sight of her distress. "Shh, Priye. I'm here. I won't leave you. And nothing will happen to our baby."

"No man is allowed in here. You must leave at once—" The head midwife stepped forward, her voice stern.

"She's my wife!" Krishna snapped. "And she has been screaming for over twelve hours! Something is wrong here. Tell me what's happening!"

The midwife swallowed nervously.

"Putra, listen to me," Mata Devaki stepped forward as she laid a hand on Krishna's shoulder, "The labor has been going on for hours now, and there's been very little progress. And Devashree... she's growing weaker with every passing moment."

Krishna's brows furrowed as he turned to look at his mother.  "What does that mean, Maa?" His voice trembled, "Is Devashree—are they both in danger?"

 "Yes, my son," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The situation... it's not good. Devashree is strong, but she's exhausted. The baby is not coming as it should. The contractions are intense, but the dilation—" she paused, "—it's barely progressed."

"If the labor does not progress soon, both mother and child could face serious risks."

Krishna swallowed hard, the words hitting him like a punch to the chest. His gaze fell Devashree. She let out a small sob, her body trembling as another wave of pain rippled through her. "I... I can't lose him, Swami. I can't..."

Krishna closed his eyes. 

Images of his son flashed in his eyes. The tiny life he had dreamed of holding in his arms. The precious memories of his tiny fingers and the warmth of that first embrace, of taking his first steps and the sound of tiny feet pattering against the floor....he could see it all until was blanketed by a huge beam of hellfire, turning it all to ash.

His eyes snapped open as he was forced back into the present. There was no time for fear, no space for doubt.

Krishna's gaze locked with Devashree's, boring straight into her soul. "Shree, I know this is terrifying," he said softly. "But I need you to listen to me carefully now."

He took her hand in his, squeezing gently. "There is no force in this universe—none—that will stop our child from coming into this world. Not fate, not destiny, not even the gods themselves can stand in the way of this." 

His words were like a vow. 

"You are right Swami." Devashree breathed. "There is absolutely no force which would have the audacity to do that. Not even fate. It cannot be so foolish right?" If fate was foolish enough to try its tricks, she would make sure it regretted ever testing them.

The eerie smile that stretched on his wife's lips honestly scared Krishna. There was a fierceness in her eyes, a defiance that he had rarely seen, even in her most powerful moments. It was the sharp edge of madness that comes when pushed beyond the limits of endurance.He prayed silently that fate, destiny, or whatever forces might be at play were wise enough not to test her resolve.

"Right?" she whispered again, her voice laced with a dangerous edge, almost as if daring the universe to defy her. 

His wife was going a little crazy. Which is why it was time for him to be a little sensible. It was time to match her craziness and so Krishna just nodded, brushing the damp strands of hair from her forehead.

"Yes, Priye," he repeated, his voice now but filled with the same intensity. "Fate wouldn't dare."

The madness in her eyes flickered at his words, but she held his gaze, waiting for more.

"And even if fate tries something foolish," he continued, "it will have to face me first. And I will tear down the heavens if I have to." He offered her a smile then, one that matched the fierceness in her eyes. "Because there is nothing—nothing—that will take you or our child away from me."

Devashree stared at him for a moment, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths. Then, slowly, the manic edge in her eyes softened, and she let out a shaky laugh—half disbelief, half relief. "You're as crazy as me," she whispered, her voice hoarse but lighter now.

"Of course," Krishna replied, squeezing her hand gently. "How else would we survive this?"

"Water" Devashree gasped as a strong contraction hit her.

"Okay."

"No, water."

"Huh?"

"Our baby loves the water. We need water."

"You are right. Dasiyon, arrange warm water in the pool right now!"

The midwife's eyes widened in disbelief "A water birth?" she echoed, incredulous. "Dwarkadhish, that's not how we've—"

"We need to have a water birth. The water will shorten the labor process while relaxing the muscles reducing the risk of tearing of the lining of the uterus and any complications."

"But—"

"Tell me I'm wrong. We don't have time to debate this."

The midwife hesitated, glancing around the room at the other women, who seemed equally surprised. Finally, she sighed and gave a reluctant nod. 

"You're not wrong, Dwarkadhish. What you said is true and in certain cases, water births can be beneficial... But this is risky. It's a premature birth, and the baby's position is uncertain and also the lungs are not fully developed yet. So the baby should not be born inside the water. If it breaths inside the water then—"

"Don't worry I will not let that happen. As soon as the crowning starts, we will move out."

The midwives exchanged quick glances, and without further hesitation, they moved swiftly to arrange the water. Within moments, the warm water was poured into the birthing pool, steam rising as it filled.

Once the water was ready, the midwives carefully guided Devashree into the pool. She winced as her body sank into the warmth.

Krishna knelt by the edge, never once letting go of her hand. "Better?"

Devashree nodded. But the respite was brief. 

Before she could fully catch her breath, another contraction tore through her body, more intense than before.

Her grip on Krishna's hand tightened until her knuckles turned white, her fingers trembling with the force of the pain. A low, guttural moan escaped her lips, her eyes snapping close in agony "Krishna!" she gasped.

"Breathe, Priye, breathe," Krishna urged.

"Yes keep breathing, Maharani. You're doing well." The midwives began to nod in approval. 

Another contraction hit, more violent than the last. Devashree screamed. The midwives moved quickly around her, whispering words of encouragement as the labor progressed faster than anticipated.

"She's crowning."

Krishna's heart skipped a beat, his grip tightening on Devashree's hand. "You're almost there, Priye. Just a little more."

"We need to get her out of the water now, Dwarkadhish," she said urgently. "It's time." The midwife moved closer, her hands hovering just above the water, ready to guide the baby.

Krishna nodded and supported Devashree as the midwives helped lift her out of the pool, the warm water streaming from her body as she was moved onto the prepared bed beside the pool.

"When you feel the urge, Maharani, push with all your strength," one instructed. 

The next contraction hit her with brutal force and her body arched as her scream filled the room.

"Push Devi."

Devashree's eyes fluttered open, her gaze finding his amidst the haze of pain. Her breath came in ragged gasps, but she pushed with all her might. Her nails dug into Krishna's hand but he paid it no heed. Her pain was unbearable for him. Tears stung the corners of his eyes and his throat tightened with helplessness. He had faced countless battles and defied the laws of fate, but nothing had prepared him for the torment of watching the woman he loved suffer like this, powerless to take her pain away.  He had never felt more helpless in his life.

"I'm here, Shree," he whispered. "Breathe for me"

Another contraction hit, and her body arched again, her scream piercing the air. Krishna's vision blurred as tears finally spilled down his cheeks. He pressed his forehead against hers. 

"Push, my love! 

"I...I can't..." she whispered. Her voice was so faint it nearly broke him.

"One more push, Maharani. You're almost there. We can see the head."

Krishna wiped his tears hastily and clutched her hand in a death grip. "You can do this, Priye. You're almost there. Just one more push."

With a shaky nod, Devashree closed her eyes and summoned what little strength she had left. She bore down with everything she had and a scream ripped from her throat as the midwife's hands caught the baby. 

Time seemed to stand still.

A cry—a small, weak sound at first—rose from the newborn's lips, growing louder with each second.

"It's a prince!" the midwife announced as she held up the newborn.

Krishna exhaled. "Our son..." he whispered, barely able to speak.

The midwife quickly put the baby on his mother's chest, who, despite her exhaustion, reached out with trembling hands to hold him. Her chest heaved with a sob as she cradled their son against her, the pain forgotten in the rush of pure, overwhelming love.

"Swami... our son," she whispered, tears streaming down her face as she looked down at the tiny, crying figure in her arms. "My little baby. Oh, you are so small. You don't know how much we have waited for you."

Krishna let out a soft chuckle. "When I asked you to arrive early, I didn't mean this early, my wrinkly little bean. Impatient, just like his mother," he teased gently gazing at his son, his heart swelling with love. The tiny boy squirmed softly and his newborn cries were fading into small whimpers. 

Krishna leaned in closer, his eyes tracing the delicate features—the soft, dark hair, the tiny nose, the flutter of his closed eyelids. He brushed a tear from his cheek.

Devashree smiled weakly. "He looks just like you, Swami," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she ran her fingers gently across the baby's head, feeling the warmth and life she had fought so hard to bring into the world.

"But I think he has your spirit, Priye. Arriving on his own terms, just like you. I suppose I'll need to get used to things happening at a moment's notice. You both love surprising me."

"I thought you liked a little excitement in life, Swami."

"Oh, I do. But this?" Krishna gestured playfully toward their son. "This level of excitement? No, thank you. My heart was almost in my mouth."

"You're telling me! I thought I was going to give you a heart attack right there in the birthing room."

"You might have succeeded. I swear, I aged a decade in those last few hours."

"Yes, I can already see a few grey hairs."

"Are you calling me old Shree?"

"What else would you call a man with such hair? You need help, Swami. You might want to start using some of that hair oil of yours. It could work wonders on those new greys."

"How dare you suggest I need help! I'm still the most handsome man in Dwarka, greys or not!"

"No. You are the second most! First is this tiny guy right here. Aren't you, my baby?

"Well, I suppose I can share the title with this wrinkly bean... for now."

Devashree giggled as the baby wriggled slightly, his tiny fists flexing and releasing against her chest. "Oh my baby, are we neglecting you?" she cooed looking down at the tiny face nestled against her. "I'm so sorry! Your father and I were very excited to meet you."

"Maharani, we need to clean the prince now. He will be returned to you shortly," one of the midwives said.

Devashree hesitated for a moment, reluctant to let go. "He'll be right back, Priye. They just need to take care of him."

Reluctantly, Devashree allowed the midwives to take her son. Krishna stayed by her side, his hand never leaving hers.

Devashree kept her eyes on the midwives as they washed her son with gentle hands, wiping away the birth fluids and wrapping him in a soft cloth. The tiny boy let out small, quiet cries, but soon, the midwives were back.

"Here he is, Maharani," one of them whispered, smiling as she placed the newborn in Devashree's arms.

"I've wanted to hold him for so long," she murmured softly, almost to herself. "To finally have him in my arms—it's like a dream."

Krishna brushed a gentle finger against their son's tiny hand, watching as the baby instinctively wrapped his fingers around it. "I know, Priye. I want to tell him all our stories," Krishna said, his eyes glinting with excitement. "The tales of bravery. I want him to know who he is, especially how he came into this world. And—"

"—And how his father nearly fainted at the sight of it all," Devashree added, laughter bubbling up inside her.

"I'll have you know, I was merely preparing myself." Krishna pretended to be offended.

"Who are you trying to fool? You were terrified!"

"Fine, fine, I admit it!" Krishna chuckled, rolling his eyes in defeat. "But can you blame me? You were doing the impossible, and all I could do was stand there and pray!"

"But it was all worthwhile. It led to this little guy." Devashree couldn't believe that she had her baby in her arms. It was paradise. Heaven on earth! All the pain, yearning, the longing felt over the centuries melted away in an instant. She cradled him closer, every fiber of her being overwhelmed by the sheer wonder of finally holding him.

She glanced up at Krishna, who was watching their baby with an expression of awe and disbelief. Gently, she nudged him.

"Would you like to hold him, Swami?"

Krishna's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Me?" he asked, glancing down at his hands, the very hands that could destroy anything in a mere snap. 

"Yes. Wouldn't you want to hold your son, Krishna?"

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, it's fine," he said softly, though his gaze lingered on the baby. 

"Really?"

His brow furrowed, doubt flickering in his eyes. "Yes. I... I will break him,"

Devashree let out a soft laugh, her amusement light and loving. "Oh, Swami, don't be ridiculous. He's not made of glass! You won't break him." Without waiting for further protest, she carefully thrust the baby into Krishna's arms, her trust in him unwavering.

Krishna froze and his entire body stiffened. He wasn't sure if he should move or even breathe. The newborn weighed almost nothing in his arms. He was so tiny and delicate that it fit more or less in his palm.

The baby stirred softly, and then—without warning—his eyes fluttered open. Krishna gasped. Staring back at him were a pair of large, familiar brown eyes—the same eyes that had captivated him since the moment he had first seen his wife. Devashree's eyes. Big, brown, and full of life.

"Priye... he has your eyes."

Devashree smiled as she watched Krishna, frozen in awe. "I know, Swami. But look closer. He has your strength too, in his grip." She nodded toward their son's tiny hand, which had instinctively wrapped around Krishna's finger, clinging to it as though the baby knew exactly who he was holding.

A wave of protectiveness, fierce and overwhelming, surged through Krishna. This tiny being, so fragile and innocent, held a piece of his heart he didn't know could be touched. He would do anything—everything—to keep him safe.

"Dwarkadhish, the newborn is a little premature. So hold him close to your body to regulate his temperature. He should not be exposed to any cold." The midwife said as she came back in chamber to get rid of the spoiled sheets.

Krishna nodded, instinctively pulling his son closer to his chest. The warmth of the baby's small body against his own made him more aware of the fragility of this new life.

"Can I...?" Devashree looked up at the midwives, her voice trembling slightly. "Can I breastfeed him now, please? " She looked back at Krishna. "I have wanted to do this for so long...." Tears stung at the corner of her eyes.

 "Of course, Maharani. You can hold him close and feed him whenever you're ready."

 With trembling hands, she undid the knot on her robe and gently guided the him to her breast. The baby instinctively latched onto the nipple. His tiny fingers curled against her breast and his eyes closed in trust.

"Oh, my sweet boy," she whispered, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this. You're everything I've ever wished for." She glanced at Krishna, her heart full. "Thank you for being here, for sharing this with me."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he replied.

As Devashree finished breastfeeding, she gently lifted the baby to her shoulder, patting his back softly. The baby let out a small, delicate burp, and she smiled, her heart overflowing with love. She held him close, feeling his tiny breaths against her skin, cherishing every moment of this new bond.

Krishna just watched in awe, unable to take his eyes off the two. 

The soft sound of footsteps made both of them turn to see Mata Devaki approaching. She paused at the doorway, watching the scene with a smile . 

"Devaki Ma!" Devashree's face lit up as soon as she her.

"May I come in?" she asked softly.

"Of course, Mata," she said.

Mata Devaki stepped closer and her gaze softened as it fell upon her grandson, now quietly resting after his first meal. "He looks... just like his father," she murmured, her fingers lightly brushing against the baby's soft cheek. "The same brows, the same lips, the same nose." She turned to Krishna, her smile widening. "He is your mirror, Putra."

Krishna smiled gently at his mother. "Is he?" he asked, his voice filled with pride.

 "Yes, he has your face, your features. But there's a calmness in him... a peacefulness that reminds me of his mother." She smiled at Devashree, her eyes filled with gratitude. "He's perfect, my dear."

"Would you like to hold him?" Devashree asked softly, sensing the depth of Devaki's emotions.

Devaki nodded. "More than anything in the world."

Devashree smiled and carefully placed the baby in Devaki's arms. "Oh, my little prince," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You are so loved. So precious."

The baby stirred slightly in Devaki's arms, and she gently rocked him, humming a soft lullaby under her breath. "All those years I spent in prison, dreaming of what it would be like to hold my own children in my arms and sing to them... I never got this chance with you, Krishna." Her voice broke for a moment, and she glanced up at Krishna with a soft, bittersweet smile. "But now I feel like I've been given a second chance. "

"Mata.." Krishna's eyes softened as he listened to his mother's words.

Devaki smiled through her tears, her gaze still fixed on her grandson. Then she bent down and pressed a tender kiss to Devashree's forehead. "You have given us a great gift, my dear," she whispered. " So many years of separation, of fear and loss... I never had the chance to raise my Kanha when he was this small. But now, I get to hold his son."

Devaki gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, her smile lingering as she gazed down at the tiny bundle in her arms. "I should take him to your father now, Krishna. Otherwise, he'll start complaining that I'm hogging our grandson," she continued,"He'll never let me hear the end of it if I keep the baby to myself."

Krishna laughed. "That does sound like Pitashree. He's probably pacing outside right now, wondering why he hasn't had his turn yet."

Devaki sighed playfully, rocking her grandson. "Yes, well, your father will just have to be patient. I've also waited long for this moment, and I'll enjoy every second I get before I hand him over."

Devashree smiled at the exchange. "He's going to be spoiled with so much love," she said softly.

"That's the way it should be," Devaki replied before carefully adjusting him in her arms. "Come now, little prince.Let's go meet your grandfather. He's been waiting since forever."

Krishna turned his attention back to Devashree, noticing the weariness etched into her face. Her eyes, though brimming with love, were heavy with exhaustion. Gently, he reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead. "Priye, you should rest now. You've done so much today. Let your body recover."

But just as the words left his mouth, Devashree suddenly doubled over, a sharp groan escaping her lips. 

"Shree!" Krishna exclaimed as his eyes widened in alarm, catching her as her body shook with a new wave of pain.

"Swami..." Devashree groaned, her voice strained and weak. Her body trembled against his, and she gripped his arms tightly as the pain wracked her once again.

Krishna held her tighter. He knew what was happening—the midwives had explained this part of the birth process—but seeing her in pain again broke something inside him.

The midwife rushed back to her side. "The placenta is being delivered, Maharani. It's almost over. Just breathe, slowly."

Devashree let out another groan, the sound muffled against Krishna's neck. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she fought through the pain, her entire body tensing.

After some seconds, the pressure eased, and Devashree slumped against Krishna. Her body, now drained of strength, trembled with exhaustion. Krishna continued to hold her, his hands gently rubbing her back as she sagged against him.

"It's over now," Krishna murmured softly, kissing the top of her head. "You're alright, darling. You're alright." 

The midwives approached them with a gentle smile. "Dwarkadhish," one said softly, "we will help Maharani clean up and prepare her for rest. She needs to recover."

Reluctantly, Krishna loosened his grip, brushing his thumb gently across Devashree's cheek. "I'll be right outside," he whispered. She gave him a tired nod, her eyes fluttering close as she leaned back against the pillows.

Krishna stood slowly, glancing one last time at his wife before making his way toward the door. 

As he stepped outside into the open hall, he could immediately hear the lively sounds of laughter and... argument? He paused, frowning slightly, as he saw a small crowd gathered just a few feet away. 

"Give him to me now, Madhulika! It's my turn!" Devaki insisted with seriousness, her arms already outstretched.

"You've already had your turn! Besides, I only just got him." Madhulika countered, holding the baby close. "You'll have him all year, Devaki!"

"I carried his father for nine months! I deserve some extra time with my grandson," Devaki fired back.

"But I also carried his mother !" Madhulika shot back, equally determined.

Krishna couldn't suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. "What's happening here?" he called out, his voice carrying through the noise.

Everyone turned toward him, momentarily silenced. Then, in unison, they all started speaking at once.

"Krishna! Tell your mother-in-law to give him to me!" Vasudev chimed in with a frown. "I am the head of this family for Narayan's sake!"

Madhulika scoffed. "Didn't you already have your turn?"

"For two minutes!? That hardly counts!" Vasudev protested.

"Kanha, come settle this!" Balram's voice boomed from the back as he folded his arms. "I haven't even held him yet! Can you believe it?" 

"Yes, bhratashree. Please do something." Subhadra pleaded.

"Where did you come from to butt in between? Weren't you at you in laws?," Balram whispered to Subhadra.

"I was already on my way back when I heard the new."

"How very convenient!"

"Alright, calm down, all of you!" Krishna interjected, raising his hands for peace. "Let's not start a war on his first day. I will decide who gets to hold him next. And it will be...."

"ME!" came a shout from the entrance, cutting through the playful chaos like a trumpet call.

"We are standing in line here!" Subhadra shot back, her arms crossed in indignation, glaring at whoever dared to interrupt.

"Athiti Devon Bhava Subhadra,"  the figure replied with a grin, striding confidently toward the group.

"Parth!"

*******

A/N

I didn't think that the birth itself was going to take an entire chapter! But the things I wanted to include made it this long. 😊 How are you all doing? I'm currently drowning in assignments—final submissions are just around the corner, and I have a ton to write!

Until next time....hang in there, and thanks for all the love and support! 🙌❤️❤️❤️