Paanchaal, Kaampilya

"After all, he is Lord Indra's son. . ." Subhalata murmured with a slight huff, twirling the garland of thick and fresh jasmine in the meticulous tangles of Draupadi, "Conjuring Indrajaal has to be in his nature."

"Exactly!" Another one added, "We underestimated his innocence!"

"He played when he had to play for real!"

"Such an innocence he has. . ." Neelima sighed, arranging the flower bangles for the Princess, "Who would've thought?"

"I think he heard us laughing and joking about him. . . "

"So? That doesn't give him the right to trick our Princess!" Subhalata rolled her eyes, "That too in front of so many people?"

"Exactly! What does he think about himself?" Charu added, huffing slightly.

"True!"

"Girls. . .girls!" Malati shushed them slightly, "Why are you underestimating our Princess for him? Is she any less than the Goddess of Heavens, hmm?"

Draupadi was barely listening to what her friends were talking about.

 Her dark, silky ringlets of hair perfectly curled to make any man go weak on his knees, rolled till her waist. The gentle cool winds from the royal windows knocked them like ocean waves across her shoulders now and then. Gone were her golden ornaments, replaced by thick fresh garlands of scented jasmines and petals of roses; though her friends laughed about the fact that why does the Princess with the scent of blue lotus needed any sort of scent. 

Indeed. Their Princess was one of her kind. 

When she first stepped out of the fire with large, innocent doe eyes, they could not help but stare. 

The maidens had learnt just tales of divinities being born. Never wondered they would see them too. 

They were too scared to touch her or even speak to her. They peeked from the doors and tried to catch a glimpse of the newly born Princess, who was staring curiously at the mirror, slightly surprised. They hushed and whispered to each other, talking among themselves and the various theories they had made about Draupadi, each one more random than the other, till they saw the innocent fireborn placing her palm on the mirror, matching the reflection of her hand with the one supposedly 'behind' the mirror. 

Until Malati, the eldest of them, courageously called out to her, and had seen her flinch the hardest, with her doe eyes enlarged and amused. 

Of course. One cannot expect a girl coming right out of fire to be acquainted with man-made things.

The other girls came in. The Princess did not mind the youngest one reaching out curiously to examine her locks of hair, or the other one caressing her soft cheeks; amused, surprised, and impressed. 

And just like that, one day, the innocent Princess became their darling friend to protect and cherish. 

She seemed otherworldly, yet someone who should be kept close to the heart.

"Yes, Krishnaa. . . she's right! Don't let him close to you so early!"

Draupadi was looking down, half lost at the ring that she was twirling in her soft, slender fingers. 

She did not return it to him.

And he never asked for it back. 

Does he really. . . could he conjure Indrajaal like her friends were speculating? 

Or was it some other sort of magnetic charm that he had? 

And his eyes. . .God forbid. 

Those eyes had something. Ambers. The tint of brown and red appeared like the glimmering spark of fire. It seemed like a gentle ocean of fire that could slowly lure anyone in if someone stared long enough. An unexplainably different allure, something beyond humane.

And a very familiar one. 

Maybe his eyes conjured Indrajaal alone. . . 

"Krishnaa!"

Draupadi gasped softly as Subhalata nudged her, holding or perhaps hiding the ring tightly in her fist.

"Were you even listening to us?"

Draupadi blinked slowly, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips, "Um. . . I was just-"

"Listen to me," Malati settled near her with a slight grin, gripping her shoulders, "Do not give him a chance to fluster you, alright? And. . . and try to look nonchalant!" 

"Ha!" Subhalata chimed in, "And reject his advances unless he doesn't coax you enough for it!"

"Pretend not to take interest at first," came their giggling advice, "And make him desperate that he begs for it!"

Draupadi's face flushed at their words, "I. . . " she squeezed her palm that held Arjun's ring.

"Come on, Draupadi, you aren't letting him go away with what he did at the ring game, can you?"

Draupadi peered at Neelima slightly. She was right. She couldn't let him just. . . oh, the way he tricked him and played innocent! 

But rejecting advances? A furious gush of blood crept up her cheek merely at the thought of it. 

Draupadi knew how she was. A few gentle words and she would be a mushy pool. She was told by now how her innocent face and eyes gave away everything. Her cheeks would burn with a cherry red hue, and she would never be able to look into his eyes straight for a good time. 

Yudhishthir and Bheem, by now, had a pretty good idea about it.

How was she going to be nonchalant? 

That too, in front of Arjun, who was probably the first man who had ever held with a feeling that wasn't platonic. She had never felt a rush of butterflies within her when he caressed her knuckles with his fingers or looked at her with eyes that meant something else.

Her heart skipped several beats at the thought of it.

"Krishnaa! Dear, are you done?!" 

The women around gasped softly at the voice of the Queen.

Prishati strode in with a happy smile regally, as Draupadi's friends bowed down and moved behind. She inhaled a deep breath, a motherly sigh escaping her lips as she saw her daughter through the large mirror. 

Draupadi stood up with a little smile, the ring still hidden in her fingers, as Prishati leaned forward and caressed her cheeks. Her fingers lingered longer, her lips curling into the faintest smile, "You are happy, aren't you, my child?" 

Her question didn't change.

Prishati wasn't different than any other mother, and one cannot expect her to be; even if her child is probably the Queen of the Heavens or the Lord of the Universe. Draupadi's otherworldliness had never shaken a waver in Prishati's heart ever. Draupadi might be a walking Goddess for everyone, but for her, she was her darling daughter who had just stepped from the fire and had seen nothing of the world.

The decision of this bizarre marriage had put Prishati in a dilemma as well, but seeing her husband's unshaken confidence, she was sure that whatever was happening to Draupadi's fate was something that could never be wrong. Yet, a mother's heart is a mother's heart. 

"Extremely," Draupadi muttered softly, her smile deepening her dimples and her face flushing slightly. 

Her answer, too, didn't change.

Prishati had hardly seen a woman who would blush so evidently even at the slightest hint of her consort. She chuckled softly, engulfing her daughter in a hug.

"Arrey, what is that you are fisting?" Prishati broke the hug, watching Draupadi clutch her right palm tight. She blinked, watching her daughter fluster immediately. Draupadi pushed aside a strand of her hair behind her ear quickly, "It's Arjun's ring, I forgot to return him after the game. . ." She averted her gaze immediately from her mother.

Prishati raised a brow slightly, biting down on her lower lip to hide a smile.

If Draupadi was truly Devi Shachi and Arjun was Lord Indra, there was nothing that could stop her from being attracted to anything that was remotely related to Arjun. 

.

.

.

The courtyard was freshly decorated with roses and jasmine garlands, hanging intimately from the pillars and walls. The moon was up in the wintry sky, a few clouds floating like an enchanting mist. 

The gentle strums of veenas filled the atmosphere, the zephyrs adding to the hum. The musicians sat around on cozy velvety carpets, dressed in deep red garments and adorned with garlands of jasmine. Their fingers moved meticulously over the instruments, invoking a sensual tone of mysticism. 

A lady dressed in red and maroon, her hair bunched with roses, chewed on a betel leaf with a hint of mischief in her eyes as she sat near the musicians. Heavy anklets adorned her ankles, and her entire self was decorated with coruscating gold. The bangles on her wrists jingled as she draped her arm over her half-folded knee elegantly. Deep kohl lined her eyes, and the nose ring sent sparkles now and then. 

The scent of delicious jasmine flooded Arjun's senses as he looked around with slight awe. His heart pumped a bit fast, his eyes slightly wide. The lights were dimmed, the fire caged in lamps that flickered light of the intensity that didn't disturb the aura of the night. Something was enchanting, sensual, and slightly inebriating. 

Gentle winds brushed across his locks flirtatiously, which were curled generously across his neck, as he sat upon the luxurious velvet carpet and rested against the soft pillows that felt as light as the clouds. His midnight dark hue was in a delicious contrast with the white and gold angavastra that draped over his shoulder, garlands of fresh white flowers wrapped around his arms, while a single rose and jasmine cascaded down from his neck down to his torso. 

The maids who stood near the pillars as attendees couldn't help but stare and giggle amongst themselves. 

"Isshh. . . he can't be looking so. . ." One of them hushed and chuckled to the other, whose face flushed deep, as they watched Arjun observing everything curiously, almost with a hint of innocence of a virgin. 

"Looks like he has never tasted pleasure," the other one mumbled with pursed lips. 

"I wish he wore white every time!" Another one squeaked slowly, covering her face with palms. 

"I do not know who is lucky. . . Prince Arjun or  our Princess. . ."

Arjun felt the stares of women coming from behind the pillars; his heart thudded slightly. He was feeling slightly hotter under the wintry night, his insides churned with a funny, giddy feeling. The sweet scent of the essence and the flower seemed to daze him a bit. He didn't quite know why, for he was being gulped a drink of neem juice and then something exceedingly sweet. His blood felt a bit warmer a few moments after that.

A dreamy smile was spreading on his face as the winds waved his locks of curls over his face for the umpteenth time. He was half lost already when the attendees were busy adorning him; one had to shake him twice before they could drape the silk garments.

The sweet drink seemed to have heightened his vivid imaginations a bit more. . .

He still had not stopped thinking about the little game and the way his wife threw him an adorable look of annoyance. . .

The way she looked at him with her large, kohled eyes, the way her soft lips parted into an innocent gasp, knowing she got tricked. . . his fingers were itching now with a slightly desperate urge to graze her lips, his own lips tinging with the thought of it even barely brushing against hers. 

Long curls of her hair rolled in his fingers, buried within the intoxicating scent of her lotus fragrance. . .

A sudden giggle of women snapped him out, and he was kind of jerked from his senses with the same scent of blue lotus he was dreaming about.

Without wasting another moment, his head turned towards the other side, and his breath stuck in his throat that he almost forgot to breathe-

The women gathered were around the Princess, walking close to her. 

She walked in slowly, her volumes of dark curls intricately bound with the same, fresh garlands of roses and jasmine; a few wisps of baby hairs that were left free waved around. The crimson gold silken raiment hugged her lush curves like a vice to torment the hearts. The moonlight glistened over her earthy hue, eager to be an adornment to her breathtaking allure. 

Arjun's throat was dry, and a long breath escaped his lips. He wished he had been given the sweet drink again, as he stared hard without a single blink, as he was almost slightly leaning forward, inhaling deeply.

Her lips parted slightly, probably in a hint of fluster, as Malati whispered something in her ears with a mischievous chuckle, and Arjun wished the wind could sway her towards him. He shifted forward a bit, his lips curling up, his breath coming out in short, quick pants. 

"Did you see his face. . ." Subhalata giggled near Draupadi, holding her arm, "He looks like he would do anything to be near you right now."

Draupadi flushed hard. She was trying her best to avoid his gaze, for she knew she would be unable to walk if she did.

"I know, right?" Malati giggled back, "You remember no Princess. . . make him desperate, make him yearn till he can't hold himself back!"

"Yes, make him plead. . make him beg for the slightest of your touch!"

Draupadi looked at them immediately as if they had said something illegal.

"Just remember our words," Malati winked, as they were close to where Arjun was sitting. 

They left Draupadi and moved behind, chuckling and giggling. 

Her heart thumped furiously as she walked towards him, her eyes still looking away, but her cheeks were burning so hard that they seemed to hurt slightly. 

And they were saying to her to torment him instead. . . 

She clutched the edge of her angavastra and sat down slowly beside him. 

With one breath of courage, she swept her glance towards him. 

And the world seemed to stop where it was.

★★★★★★★★★

A/N

"If Draupadi was truly Devi Shachi and Arjun was Lord Indra, there was nothing that could stop her from being attracted to anything that was remotely related to Arjun."

I am absolutely and wholeheartedly in love with this line 😭😭😭😭and it reminds me of 'Tose Naina Lage Piya Saawre' so badly man!

BTW HAPPY JANMASHTAMI TO EVERYONE! 😍😍😍❤️❤️❤️

Signing off for today!

Nushkie