As Arjuna arrived at that holy and delightful region, the air was thick with the sacred scent of sandalwood and the distant hum of conch shells. His Chetak ran through the soft earth, leaving behind faint dust trails. News of his arrival spread swiftly, reaching the ears of the slayer of Madhu, Shri Krishna himself.

It took Krishna no time to seek out his dearest friend. Their meeting was like the confluence of two sacred rivers: inevitable, timeless, and charged with divine familiarity. As Arjuna spotted Krishna, his face broke into a rare smile. Krishna's dark eyes glowed warmly as he strode toward Partha, his saffron robes billowing in the breeze. Without a word, they embraced tightly, a silent exchange of lifetimes of understanding passing between them.



Krishna's voice was soft yet commanding as he asked, "Why, O Partha, do you wander over the Aryavarta, beholding all the sacred waters and holy places?"

Arjuna's voice, shaded with quiet exhaustion, recounted what happened at Indraprastha, his journeys to distant lands and sacred rivers, and the countless faces he had passed. Krishna listened, his expression thoughtful, before replying with a knowing smile, "This is as it should be."

Arjuna's gaze sharpened with playful suspicion. His lips curled into a smirk as he said, "Anything for me to know, Madhava? Considering you and our sister always connect telepathically..." His voice trailed off suggestively.

Krishna's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Hmmm... very much." He paused, his voice laced with amusement. "First, to start with... Sutasoma, son of Brata Bhimasena, was born because of the thousand yagnas Brata performed. Satyaki and Putr Bhanu had completed their education under Guru Devavrata."

Arjuna's face softened, his eyes glimmering with pride for his brother. "That is joyful news," he said with genuine warmth.

Krishna's gaze darkened slightly as he continued, "Now, Sakhi is pregnant with Nakula's child."

Arjuna's smile faltered. His brows knitted together as the weight of Krishna's words settled in his chest. Krishna's voice cut through the silence with sharp precision. "Are you mad, Partha? Because it should have been you... but Nakula has taken the place."

Arjuna's breath steadied as he gathered his thoughts. His voice, when it came, was calm yet laced with quiet vulnerability. "If I am to be mad at Krishnaa, Madhava, then that would mean I am angry at myself. I know she is bound to all of us. She has merely followed her Patnidharma. How can I be angry with her for that?" His eyes softened as he added, "It's just... Sutasoma is still so young. And now another child already... She will manage, I know that. But... this is more for her."

Krishna studied him briefly before his lips curled into a subtle smile. "And yet, you, too, have a child, Partha. Iravan is in Indraprastha with Nagakanya Ulupi. And Devi Chitrangada has also reached there. Looks like you have been too busy with the women you meet, hmm?" His tone was light, teasing.

Arjuna's cheeks darkened with the rare blush of embarrassment. "Nothing like that, Madhava," he muttered, looking away. "It... happened. Ulupi, I respect. Chitrangada..." His voice softened. "I love her. Perhaps... the way you see Satya."

Krishna's laugh was light and unrestrained. "Ah!" he said knowingly.

A short while later, on Krishna's suggestion, they travelled to the majestic mountain of Raivataka. The mountain had already been prepared for their arrival; Krishna's men had decorated the land with flowers, lamps, and silken banners. An abundance of food and sweetmeats had been laid out in golden platters.

Arjuna and Krishna sat beneath the open sky, watching dancers and actors perform intricate plays. The air was alive with the sound of drums and flutes. After the performers had been respectfully dismissed, Arjuna settled onto a divine bed of soft fabrics. The stars above gleamed coldly, but the warmth of Krishna's presence lingered beside him as sleep claimed him.

Morning arrived with golden hues as Krishna and Arjuna rode together in a resplendent chariot toward Dwaraka. The city shimmered under the sun's radiance—every hut and palace was adorned with garlands and rich fabrics in honour of Kunti's son. The streets were alive with anticipation; citizens—young and old, men and women—lined the roads to glimpse Partha. Hundreds and thousands had gathered, their voices raised in reverence. Kings of the Bhoja, Vrishini, and Andhaka clans stood proudly, offering respectful homage.

As Arjuna descended, young Vrishini warriors approached him with reverence, touching his feet. Those his age embraced him fondly, thumping his back with brotherly warmth. That night, he stayed with Krishna in the grand palace, surrounded by jewels and objects of pleasure.

A week passed, and the great festival of the Vrishnis and Andhakas was soon held on Mount Raivataka. The mountain was transformed into a realm of celestial beauty. Every tree was lit with lamps, and the air throbbed with music and laughter. Musicians played their veenas and mridangas while dancers swirled in flowing silks. Warriors of the Vrishini clan, adorned with gold and precious gems, rode across the grounds in their chariots.

Balarama sat with Revati, his eyes glazed with intoxication as Gandharvas surrounded them with melodies. King Ugrasena stood proudly with his thousand wives, basking in the praise of the musicians. Pradyumna and the invincible Samba sported themselves like gods, their laughter ringing through the air. The names of valour Akrura, Sarana, Gada, Bhanu, Satyaki, and Kritavarma were adorned with divine garlands and surrounded by their wives and musicians. They revelled in the night's festivities under the gaze of Raivataka's sacred peaks.

Amidst the grand commotion, Krishna and Arjuna roamed through the crowd. Krishna's dark eyes sharpened as they fell upon his younger sister Subhadra, surrounded by her attendants. She was radiant in crimson silks and jewelled ornaments. Arjuna's breath hitched. His eyes lingered on her form a moment too long, and Krishna's gaze darkened with knowing amusement.



"So," Krishna murmured, his smile dangerously soft. "How is it that the mind of one who lives in the forest is agitated by desire?" Arjuna's cheeks darkened, but he said nothing. Krishna's laughter was a quiet echo between them.

At the same time, Niyati stood by the window, her gaze fixed upon Draupadi's serene smile as the moonlight softened the contours of her face. The quiet hum of the night was broken only by her measured breath. Yuyutsu stood behind her, his presence a steady pulse in the stillness.

Without turning, Niyati spoke, her voice threading through the silence like a gentle breeze. "Another wife of Partha will soon walk through these very doors. She is none other than my bhagini — Shri Krishna's sister, Subhadra."

Yuyutsu's brow furrowed as his eyes darkened with quiet intensity. "This mortal avatar of mine," he said softly, "feels the burden of Draupadi's pain in ways that transcend this flesh. I am a father to this entire universe, yet even gods are not immune to sorrow when their devotees suffer. How could I not feel her pain? I endure it as she endures it. But this time..." his voice grew heavier, "we cannot ask Narayan to intervene. For Subhadra herself is the incarnation of Lakshmi destined to wed Nara, the victorious arm of Narayana, who is none other than Arjuna."

Niyati's gaze softened as she watched Draupadi's tranquil face, a tender sadness flickering beneath her composure. "This soul..." Niyati's voice trembled with quiet reverence, "In all her past and present, she has borne the weight of pain not sown by her karma but by the deeds of others. Even now, her suffering stems from debts not her own. Today..." Niyati's eyes glistened as her hand lifted toward Draupadi in silent benediction, "I bless her, Mahadev. If this soul desires another life, let her awaken where only happiness basks in her lap. But if not... this will be her final birth upon this earth. She shall reunite with Narayan once this Yuga ends."

Yuyutsu's breath hitched, his wide eyes turning toward Niyati. "Devi Niyati..." His voice was laced with disbelief and awe.

Niyati's gaze met his, ancient wisdom flickering beneath her serene expression. "I know," she said softly. "I have never bestowed a boon, and I blessed only on the day you all performed the great penance. For my blessings alter the very threads of fate. And yet..." Her voice trembled with quiet resolve. "After witnessing her past lives and this life... today, I bless her, Mahadev."

She turned toward the door, her silken robes trailing behind her. As she stepped through the threshold, a faint smile curled upon Yuyutsu's lips — the smile of one who had seen the impossible unfold. Mahadev's cosmic smile reflected through the heavens somewhere beyond the mortal realm. "She blessed..." Yuyutsu whispered. His gaze lifted toward the moonlit sky, where the stars shimmered to acknowledge the shift in destiny.

The Call of Destiny

Arjuna stood beneath the crimson skies, the twilight sun casting a soft glow upon his chiselled face. His gaze lingered for a moment longer before he turned away, his breath heavy with restraint.

Krishna's sharp eyes caught the flicker of conflict in his friend's expression. A smile played upon his lips as he stepped closer. "What troubles you, Partha?" Krishna's voice was a soothing melody against the quiet hum of the evening. "You know... if you desire her"

"No, Madhava." Arjuna's response was swift, his tone edged with unease. "People might think... I am lusting after women." His eyes darkened with shame as his words spilt out. "First Ulupi... I know how Iravan was born, but even then... I married Chitrangada not long ago. And now again this woman... I do not wish to cause Krishnaa more pain." He shook his head as if trying to shake off the weight of his thoughts. "Let us leave from here."

Krishna's gaze deepened, an ancient knowing reflected in his dark eyes. He stepped before Arjuna, his head tilting slightly. "Do you think I am a lustful person, Partha?"

Arjuna's head jerked up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Madhava!" His voice cracked with emotion. "How can you utter such words about yourself? To hear you demean yourself, it wounds me deeply."

Krishna's smile widened, radiating warmth that touched the very marrow of Arjuna's heart. "Then why do you believe your own heart to be corrupt?" His voice was gentle yet piercing. "I have seen the gaze of men who look at women with lust, empty, predatory, vile. I have slain such men before, and I shall spill their blood upon the soil of Aryavarta in the days to come without hesitation."

His eyes glinted with quiet fury before softening again. "But your gaze was not born of lust, Partha. It was pure desire, a sacred pull where something within your soul shifted and whispered: 'She is meant to be yours.' That is not lust, Partha. That is love."

Arjuna's breath caught in his throat. His chest rose and fell as conflicting emotions surged within him. His gaze dropped toward the earth beneath his feet. "Madhava..." he whispered, his voice strained, "A heart should not walk wherever the eyes set upon, and a man should not walk wherever his heart sets upon."

He turned to leave, the weight of his words pulling him toward retreat. But Krishna's hand closed around his wrist, halting him mid-step.

Krishna's low and commanding voice swept through the air with the weight of eternity itself. "Partha, what is dharma if not the calling of the soul? A heart does not stir in vain it awakens only when the cosmos calls it forth. Dharma does not lie in suppressing what is true but in acting upon it with purity and honour. When Narayana set the rhythm of this universe, did he not weave the threads of love into its very fabric? Why, then, would the love within you be false?"

Arjuna's breath trembled beneath the weight of Krishna's words. Slowly, he lifted his gaze toward his friend, and for the first time in that quiet dusk, clarity began to form within the storm of his heart. A calm smile touched Arjuna's lips. "Then tell me, Madhava... who is she?"

Krishna's eyes glimmered with the spark of mischief beneath the veil of solemnity. "O Partha! She is my sister, born in the same womb as Brata Sarana. I shall speak to Pitashree if your heart is truly set upon her."

Arjuna's eyes widened as realization dawned upon him. His voice trembled with reverence. "She... she is Mamashree Vasudeva's daughter? Niyati's and your sister?" He pressed his palm to his chest as understanding swept over him. "Now... I understand why I am drawn to her. If this daughter of the Vrishini lineage, your sister, becomes my wife, surely, I have accumulated great merit in my past lives. O Madhava!" His voice strengthened with newfound conviction. "Tell me how I can obtain her. I will do everything that any man can!"

Krishna's smile deepened, and with it came the quiet pull of destiny itself. "Partha..." a new voice entered the conversation. Vasudeva himself stood at the threshold, his gaze calm and knowing. "A Swayamvar is the ordained path of marriage for Kshatriyas. But a Swayamvar is uncertain if one does not know the heart's inclination. Those who are learned in the ways of dharma say that for Kshatriyas can abduct and get marry." His gaze sharpened. "Therefore, Partha, abduct my beautiful sister. Who knows who she might choose in a Swayamvar?"

Arjuna's breath hitched, his gaze widening in disbelief. "Abduction? Madhava, she is your sister! She comes from the lineage of Mata Kunti and Niyati. How can I tamper with her modesty like that? This is not dharma, Madhava!"

His voice darkened with quiet desperation. "For the sake of my love, I cannot put a woman's dignity at stake. This is against the Amba law of Indraprastha, too. I cannot do this. Kshama, Madhava... please suggest another path. And... and how do I know if she even likes me? Taking her against her will is not what a man should do."

Krishna's gaze darkened with gravity. He stepped closer, his voice a quiet storm. "Partha..." Krishna's voice was both gentle and unyielding. "A woman's dignity lies not in whether she is taken by force or by choice; it lies in the sanctity of the heart that claims her. Do you believe I would allow anyone to abduct her? No... You are not taking her dignity; you are protecting it. When destiny ties two souls together, the path that unites them is not always paved with comfort or ease. Sometimes, destiny demands courage."

Arjuna's head lowered as the weight of Krishna's words pressed upon his soul. Slowly, the resistance within him began to fade beneath the quiet hum of truth. "But..." Arjuna's voice was hushed. "Let me send a letter to Indraprastha first. I must seek permission from Brata Yudhishthira."

Krishna's laughter echoed through the quiet dusk, bright and knowing. "Okay!"

Thus, Arjuna and Krishna summoned swift celestial birds as messengers, having decided upon the course of action. Under the watchful gaze of the stars, the messengers flew toward Indraprastha to inform Dharmaraj of the fateful turn the winds of destiny had taken.

Bonds, Challenges, and a Fateful Decision

As Krishna and Arjuna stood beneath the starlit sky, waiting for Yudhishthira's reply, the distant hum of celebration reached their ears.

The air was heavy with unspoken thoughts when a familiar figure approached. Suyodhana, his steps measured, his gaze laced with disdain. "Ah, Arjuna," Suyodhana drawled, the glint in his eyes sharp as a blade. "I've heard so much about your... romantic pursuits these days. First, with that Naga Kanya, Ulupi, a snake woman! And then Rajkumari Chitrangada. How fascinating," he sneered.

Arjuna's jaw tightened, his gaze hardening, but he remained silent. Suyodhan's smirk widened as he stepped closer. "Why don't you marry someone... normal for once?" Suyodhan's voice dripped with mockery. "First, you all brothers marry a woman born from fire. Then Jyeshta marries Suta women, then Yuyutsu weds a girl born under the rare alignment of the Sun and Moon, such a strange one... rather unstable, isn't she? And you—" he chuckled darkly—"you begot a son with a snake? A snake woman, Arjuna! Imagine what the future Kuru dynasty will look like! And now... a warrior princess from Manalura? What an exotic collection of women you are building for the Kuru line!"

Arjuna's hand curled into a trembling fist. Krishna's gaze darkened as he stepped forward, but Suyodhana wasn't done. "Ah, how could I forget? Kakishree Kunti herself was born from the serpent womb of Marisha, the daughter of the Naga chief Aryaka. Perhaps it runs in the family, this... peculiar taste in mates."

Arjuna's breath hitched. His shoulders tensed, rage simmering beneath his skin. Suyodhana leaned in, his voice lowering. "Don't tell me you are planning to father another strange heir tonight," Suyodhana sneered. "Or perhaps Shri Krishna is influencing you? Birds of a feather flock together, after all. A man who collects wives like jewels—"

"Brata Suyodhana!" Krishna's voice lashed through the air like a whip. His eyes gleamed, stormy with restraint. "Never cross the limit."

Suyodhan's smile remained, though his eyes narrowed.

"You have insulted women whose purity and strength you cannot even begin to comprehend. The ones you ridicule today are blessed by divinity itself. If you dare to commit this mistake again..." Krishna's gaze sharpened, his voice dangerously soft, "You will endure a suffering so immense, so boundless, that even the gods will turn away in horror."

Suyodhan's smile faltered. He took a step toward Krishna, and immediately, Arjuna stepped between them, his hand touching the hilt of his Kindhura. At the same time, a deep voice echoed from behind them.

"Suyodhana." It was Balarama. He strode toward them, his figure imposing, his gaze steady. His broad chest rose and fell as he stopped before Suyodhana. "I don't know what transpired here," Balarama said, his tone grave, "but let me make clear that anyone who stands against my brother stands against me. No matter who it is. Cross this line, and you will face consequences you are not prepared for."

For a moment, the tension crackled dangerously between them. Then, Suyodhana inhaled sharply, his lips curling into a thin smile. He stepped back. "Of course. Merely jesting," he said, his tone light, though his eyes smouldered with lingering anger. "I would never dare offend you, Gurudeva."

Suyodhana turned and walked away, his posture stiff. Balarama watched him disappear into the crowd, then turned toward Arjuna and Krishna, his lips curling into a serene smile. Without another word, he returned to the festival.

The golden hues of dusk spilt through the arched windows of Indraprastha's royal chamber, casting a soft amber glow upon the polished marble floor. Yudhishthira sat alone by a low table of ivory and gold, the dying light illuminating the sealed scroll in his trembling hands.

It bore the sigil of Dwaraka — Krishna's seal.

Yudhishthira's brow creased as he deliberately broke the seal, his heart thrumming in uneasy anticipation. His eyes skimmed the finely etched letters, his breath growing shallow with each passing word. "Arjuna wishes to take Subhadra's hand. Shri Krishna advises that he abduct her."

Yudhishthira's hand stiffened around the letter. His chest rose and fell in quiet disbelief. Abduction? Krishna, the very upholder of dharma, is suggesting such an act. Arjuna — his steadfast brother — intending to follow through with it?

A strange chill settled over him despite the warmth of the setting sun. His gaze sharpened. He rose swiftly, his golden robes brushing against the marble as he strode toward the chamber doors. "Summon all my brothers," he ordered the guards. "Draupadi and Niyati as well."

Footsteps echoed down the marble hallway. Bhima entered first, his broad frame filling the doorway, curiosity flickering beneath his furrowed brows. Vasusena followed, his golden armour reflecting the fading light. Nakula and Sahadeva appeared next, moving in perfect sync, their mirrored expressions touched with quiet confusion. Draupadi entered last, her gaze sharp as her silken garments trailed behind her. Niyati and Yuyutsu followed at her side. Niyati's soft, measured steps contrasted with Yuyutsu's quiet strength.

Yudhishthira stood in the centre of the room, the letter held delicately between his fingers. His gaze met Draupadi's first. Without a word, he extended the letter toward her. "Read it."

Draupadi stepped forward, her dark eyes narrowing as they traced the lines of the letter. Her expression shifted from confusion to disbelief and then something sharper. Her lips parted. "Abduction?" she whispered, the word brittle upon her tongue.

A charged silence followed. The letter trembled slightly in her grasp before she passed it to Bhima.

Bhima's brows lifted as he read it aloud, his deep voice filling the chamber. "Arjuna loves Subhadra... and Keshava advised him to abduct his sister?" His lips curled in quiet amusement. "Is this the same Keshava who lectures about dharma at every turn?"

A low murmur spread through the room. Vasusena's gaze darkened. Nakula and Sahadeva exchanged glances. Yudhishthira's jaw tightened as he oversaw Draupadi's face. And then... she smiled. It was a slow, knowing smile, soft and edged with quiet fire. "Give him permission," she said.

Every head turned toward her. Vasusena stepped forward. "Draupadi... if you don't approve, then why—"

She turned toward him, her gaze steady, her voice a quiet thread of steel beneath silk. "Jyeshta, what are you saying?" Her tone was gentle but unyielding. "First, Arya loves her. Second, she is the sister of my Sakha. That alone makes me love her already. But more than that..." Her dark eyes sharpened. "If Govinda advises this... if the one who upholds dharma commands such an act... then who am I to question it?"

Her gaze softened. "Jyeshta, tell Arya to abduct her. Let him return victorious."

A stunned silence followed.

Bhima let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "In the history of Aryavarta, you might be the first wife to tell her husband to abduct a princess and that too, the princess of Dwaraka." He grinned. "Murari must be laughing himself to tears right now."

But then Bhima's gaze shifted toward Niyati. His expression grew serious. "What do you think?"

As Niyati's gaze settled on Draupadi, the air thickened with an unspoken promise. With deliberate slowness, Niyati stepped closer, her hands extending toward Draupadi's slender fingers like a gentle yet unyielding claim. "If she is fine with it... Then so am I," Niyati whispered, her voice a soft, velvety promise.

As her fingers intertwined with Draupadi's, Niyati's gaze darkened like the first whispers of a gathering storm. The intensity in her eyes was palpable, a testament to the unyielding loyalty that burned within her. "Draupadi, Bhagini..." Niyati's voice dropped to a hushed, reverent tone as if she were offering a sacred vow. "I am with you. For this selfless love, I bow to you."

Draupadi's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as Niyati's grasp tightened, a silent pledge of protection and devotion. "But hear me." Niyati's voice took on a low, ominous tone, like the rumble of thunder on a summer's day. "At any point in life when fear's dark wings envelop you, when the path ahead seems shrouded in uncertainty, when those you trust turn against you, call me."

Niyati's eyes blazed with a fierce, otherworldly intensity as if the very fabric of the universe had been woven into her being. "Call me with all your might," she whispered, her voice dripping with an unspoken promise of retribution.

The air seemed to grow heavier, the shadows deepening as Niyati's tone dropped to a cold, lethal stillness. "I will set this world on fire," she vowed, her words hanging like a deadly promise.

The room seemed to hold its collective breath as Niyati's gaze swept across the assembly, her eyes burning with an unyielding fury. Bhima's smile faltered, Yudhishthira's breath hitched, and Vasusena's hand instinctively brushed the hilt of his sword as a shiver of unease crept through his veins.

"I will punish those who hurt you," Niyati's voice dripped with venom, her words weaving a dark, foreboding spell. "They will not see tomorrow. Their souls will not reach Swarga. Nor Naraka. They will wander — forgotten — lost in the abyss of the cosmos. Forever unnamed."

Draupadi's breath quickened. And yet... she smiled. "Niyati..." Draupadi's hand lifted to Niyati's cheek. Her eyes softened. "I have you. I have Brata Yuyutsu. I have Jyeshta. I have my husbands. What harm can touch me?"

Her gaze lifted toward the twilight sky beyond the window. "And more than that, I have Govinda." Her voice was soft yet resolute. "He will not let harm touch me."

Yuyutsu and Niyati exchanged a glance, one filled with quiet sorrow. Draupadi's faith was unshakable. But Niyati's promise was not mere protection; it was retribution. It was a shadow cast upon the path of fate.

Yudhishthira's hand hovered above the letter for a long moment. Slowly, he picked up a fresh scroll, dipped his quill into ink, and began to write. "To Arjuna..." Yudhishthira slowly inhaled. Then, with measured resolve, he penned his reply: "You have my blessing. Abduct her."

The message was swiftly dispatched to Pakshi. As the messenger disappeared into the fading dusk, Yudhishthira leaned back, his gaze drifting toward Draupadi. A faint smile touched his lips. "You trust Shri Krishna more than me," he said softly.

Draupadi's smile deepened. Her eyes gleamed beneath the fading light. "Of course, I do."

Hours later, Krishna unfolded the scroll beneath the starlit sky. He smiled knowingly as Arjuna read the contents, and his hands trembled as he finished.

Krishna chuckled softly. "Well, Partha?"

Arjuna exhaled slowly. "Then I shall take her."

Krishna's hand clasped Arjuna's shoulder. Their eyes met — bound by the silent understanding of destiny and fate. Krishna's smile deepened. "Then let us prepare for the abduction."

The Abduction of Subhadra

Arjuna's pulse quickened as the news reached him that Subhadra had gone to Raivataka. His heart surged with urgency and resolve. After seeking Krishna's counsel and obtaining his sacred sanction, he knew what must be done.

Golden sunlight glinted off the polished surface of his chariot as it was drawn forth, a masterpiece of craftsmanship forged with divine precision. Its yoke was bound to Sainya and Sugriva, the swift and mighty steeds whose gallop could split the air. Nets of delicate golden bells adorned the sides, their soft chimes whispering like a thousand murmuring spirits. The sound of the chariot's wheels was not a mere rumble — it was the roar of a thundering storm, a celestial proclamation of his intent. Within the chariot, weapons of every kind lay in readiness, their lethal edges gleaming with the promise of war. Its radiance was like that of Agni himself, fierce and consuming enough to strike terror into the marrow of any foe.

Arjuna stood ready, the very image of a Kshatriya incarnates. His armour glistened beneath the sun's gaze, fastened perfectly over his muscular frame. A sword hung at his hip, its hilt caressed by his steady hand. Guards secured his elbows and fingers with protective bands, and every inch of him was prepared for battle. He climbed onto the chariot with the grace of a lion about to hunt, his eyes burning with singular focus.

At the foot of Raivataka, Subhadra had already performed the sacred rites. She had worshipped Raivata, the ancient king of the mountains, and sought the blessings of the gods and the assembled Brahmanas. Her slender figure, adorned in delicate silk garments, moved gracefully as she completed her circumambulation of the sacred mountain. Her face, serene and radiant as the moon, reflected the tranquillity of her heart.

But tranquillity was short-lived.

The wind seemed to shift, and a pulse of energy cut through the calmness of the air. Suddenly, there he was, Arjuna, his chariot slicing through the veil of the horizon. Without hesitation, he rushed towards her with the intensity of a storm. His hands, firm but not cruel, gripped her as he pulled her onto his chariot. A gasp left her lips as she lifted herself into his embrace, her dark eyes widening in disbelief.

"Arjuna!" she whispered, her voice trembling between shock and recognition.

Arjuna's expression was resolute. His arms secured her protectively. "Hold on," he breathed, his voice low and commanding.



The chariot surged forward with the force of Garuda's wings, tearing through the air as though lifted by the gods. Subhadra's hands instinctively tightened around his arm as they sped across the horizon, leaving behind nothing but a trail of golden dust.

The soldiers accompanying Subhadra cried out in alarm, their shouts echoing through the valley. Weapons were raised, and signals sounded. The ground trembled beneath the pounding of hurried footsteps as they rushed toward Dwaraka.

Breathless and frantic, they burst into the grand hall of Sudharma, the assembly of the Vrishnis. Beneath the towering columns and banners of gold and sapphire, the presiding officer sat, his eyes narrowing at the disturbance. "Arjuna...!" the soldier gasped. "He has... abducted the princess!"

A hush fell over the chamber. Then —The war drum sounded.

One by one, the Maharathas of the Vrishini and Andhaka clans ascended their thrones — thrones adorned with gold and cushioned in silks, encrusted with rubies and pearls that shimmered like the embers of a dying star. The glow of sacred fires danced across their faces, illuminating expressions that darkened with anger.

Seated like gods upon a celestial council, their eyes flashed with rage as the presiding officer recounted Jishnu's audacity. "Arjuna?" a warrior growled, his voice cutting through the silence. "He dared to take Subhadra?"

Their blood surged through their veins, heated by the remnants of wine and growing fury. Eyes sharpened. Hands curled into fists. Weapons were summoned. "Yoke the chariots!" came the order, sharp and swift.

Gold-plated horses were brought forth, their nostrils flaring, their hooves striking the marble floor as they were harnessed with precision. Lances gleamed beneath the torchlight as shields and bows were fetched from the armouries. The clink of metal, the rustle of leather straps, the tightening of quivers, and the symphony of impending war filled the hall.

A warrior's growl rose above the commotion. "Let him face our wrath."

But then, a figure emerged from the shadows. Towering as Mount Kailasa itself, he stood, Balarama, dressed in the hues of dusk. His sapphire robes fluttered behind him, and the heady scent of wine clung to his breath. Yet, his gaze was steady, cutting through the storm of rage like a blade of moonlight.

"You fool," Balarama's voice resonated, low and commanding. "What madness compels you to roar like beasts when Janardana himself remains silent?"

The warriors halted, muscles tense, hands clutching the hilts of their swords.

Balarama's dark eyes swept the room. "Would you raise your weapons before knowing the will of the one who commands the cosmos?" His tone sharpened. "Let the omniscient one speak. Let Kanha's word decide your course."

Halayudha's voice carried weight beyond the physical. The warriors, though seething, stood down. A ripple of tension melted beneath his authority. Weapons lowered. Breath calmed.

And then Kamapala rose eyes blazing. He turned toward Krishna, who sat unmoved, his gaze as calm and inscrutable as the ocean's depths. "Govinda," Kamapala's voice thundered. "Why do you sit there in silence?"

Krishna's gaze remained unshaken.

Kamapala's fury ignited further. "Was it not for your sake that we honoured Arjuna? Did that treacherous Kuru, not feast upon our trust and now dare to spit upon it?"

His voice sharpened, laced with venom. "How can you tolerate this insult? This is not an act of love; it is a crime! Shall we let the offender walk free? They are going against their rule – law of Amba?"

A dangerous gleam darkened his eyes. "By insulting us and disregarding Keshava, he has summoned his death. Shall I rid the earth of Kauravas today?" His voice, rising like a war drum, echoed through the chamber.

The gathered Bhojas, Vrishnis, and Andhakas erupted into applause, their thundering cries filling the chamber with the promise of blood.

The Union of Arjuna and Subhadra

Krishna's gaze swept across the hall, his voice steady and resonant with the weight of dharma and Artha. "Gudakesha (the one who has conquered sleep or ignorance - Arjuna) has not tarnished our lineage with his actions; on the contrary, he has elevated it."

Sharp with insight, his eyes softened as they settled upon the anxious faces before him. "There is no dishonour in Partha's deed. The Satvatas (The one who follows Shri Krishna) have never lusted after wealth or status, which is known to all. The outcome of a Swayamvar is never certain. Who among men can fathom giving away a daughter as though she were an object for barter?"

Krishna's tone sharpened with quiet indignation. "Which father would willingly sell his daughter? Partha, wise as he is, must have seen the flaws in such methods. That is why he chose to act by dharma to claim his beloved with strength and valour."

A faint smile touched Krishna's lips. "Subhadra is radiant and illustrious. Arjuna was born of Bua Kunti, of the noble line of Bharata, and the great-souled Shantanu, and she is equal in every way. Who would not desire Arjuna as a son-in-law? None can vanquish him in battle in all the realms of existence among the Indras and the Rudras. He rides the chariot yoked with my horses; his prowess with weapons is unmatched. Who can stand against him?"

Krishna's gaze softened. "Go to Dhananjaya with a calm and joyful heart. Offer him gentle and soothing words of kindness. Persuade him to return with you. If Partha departs after forcibly vanquishing us, our honour will suffer. But there is no disgrace in reconciliation."

The hall fell into a profound silence as Krishna's words settled upon those gathered. Heads nodded in solemn understanding, and hearts steadied beneath the weight of truth and wisdom.

On the other side, the temple of Somnath stood in silent grandeur, bathed in the pale glow of twilight. Arjuna stepped down from the chariot, his heart a turbulent sea beneath the calm mask of his warrior's face. He walked toward Subhadra, each step resonating through his very soul.

And then, without hesitation, he bowed before her. His forehead touched the cool marble beneath her feet. "Forgive me, Subhadra," he whispered, his voice stripped bare of pride. "I took you away without asking you. I would have fought the gods themselves had they stood between us, but your will... your choice... it should have come first."

He lifted his gaze, his eyes deep pools of raw emotion. "I have lived long enough to understand the weight of love and the burden of duty. And yet, the moment I saw you" his breath hitched, "something shifted within me. A warrior who knew nothing but the clashing of steel and the blood-soaked dust of battle suddenly stood defenceless before a glance."

Subhadra's eyes softened, her lips parting as he continued. "I have married before," Arjuna confessed, the vulnerability in his voice trembling beneath the temple's sacred silence. "With Nagakanya Ulupi, I share a bond of respect. She gave me a son, Iravan, whose eyes reflect her silent strength."

"Chitrāngadā, fierce and proud, she met me upon the fields of Manipur. She is carrying my child. And then there is Krishnaa..." His voice lowered to a reverent whisper. "My Krishnaa, my Yagnaseni, claims a part of my soul that none can touch."

His eyes darkened with an unspoken intensity. "But you... Subhadra, when I saw you, there was no thought, no hesitation. Only instinct. Only truth. In one glance, you quieted the storm within me."

Arjuna's breath shuddered as he knelt before her. "It was not desire; it was knowing. In that instant, I knew you were meant to walk beside me."

Subhadra's smile was soft—an echo of the dawn rising upon a storm-touched sky. "I know you."

Arjuna's breath caught.

"Brata Krishna... and bhagini Niyati... they have spoken of you since I was a child. Your name was a whisper in our halls, a story upon Brata Krishna's lips when he spoke of love and loyalty. I heard of you growing up and knew of your bond with my Brata."

Her eyes shimmered with quiet mischief. "Had anyone else dared to abduct me, Krishna would have slain him without hesitation. And yet, he stands silent today. Which means only one thing: that he was the hand behind this."

Arjuna's lips parted in stunned realization. "I trust my Brata Krishna with my life. I trust my bhagini Niyati with my heart. If they had opposed this, they would have spoken. But they did not. And if they accept you, then Panduputr Arjuna..." Her gaze steadied, fierce and unwavering. "I am ready."

Arjuna's heart hammered wildly beneath his chest. A wide, disbelieving smile broke across his face as he stood. "Then shall we return?" Subhadra blushed, the crimson rising to her cheeks as she lowered her gaze and nodded.

They returned to Dwaraka, the gates swinging open as Vasudeva stood at the entrance. Arjuna dismounted and approached him, his heart pounding beneath the moment's weight. He bent down upon one knee, bowing his head. "Forgive me, Mamashree."

Vasudeva's eyes softened. "Rise, Dhananjaya." He smiled. "No forgiveness is needed where dharma has already been upheld."

Krishna stepped forward, his dark eyes glittering with quiet amusement. Without a word, he pulled Arjuna into a fierce embrace. "You took your time, Partha," Krishna teased. "Had you delayed any further, I would have had to abduct my sister for you."

Laughter rippled through the gathering, and Subhadra lowered her gaze as Krishna approached her. He touched her forehead with two fingers, his touch a benediction. "Be happy, Subhadra." His gaze darkened with quiet intensity. "You have chosen wisely."

The wedding was a grand affair. The hall of Dwaraka shimmered beneath the glow of countless lamps. Subhadra sat beside Arjuna, radiant in golden silk. The sacred chants of the priests rose toward the heavens as Vasudeva himself presided over the ceremony. Krishna stood by Arjuna's side, his gaze filled with quiet pride.

Arjuna clasped Subhadra's hand as they walked around the sacred fire, the flames casting flickering shadows upon their intertwined fingers. The moment the final vow was spoken, Arjuna and Subhadra shared a smile that promised eternity.

A Departure and an Eternal Promise

At the break of dawn, the morning sun's soft glow stretched across the palace's marble floor. Arjuna stood before Vasudeva, his gaze steady yet softened by reverence. Krishna stood beside him, arms crossed, a gentle smile lingering on his lips.

Arjuna bent down and touched Vasudeva's feet, the warmth of the elder's palms resting on his head a silent blessing. "Mamashree," Arjuna said, his voice low yet resolute, "now I must take my leave. Only two weeks remain before my pilgrimage ends. Subhadra wishes to accompany me." His eyes softened as he glanced toward the inner chambers where Subhadra remained. "Once we reach Indraprastha, I will send word to all of you."

Vasudeva's gaze lingered on Arjuna briefly before a smile stretched across his weathered yet noble features. "Bhagini Kunti," he said softly, "has long been a part of the Kuru family. Putri Niyati..." his smile deepened, "...and now Subhadra as well. The ties of blood and fate are complete." His eyes sharpened. "Take care of everyone, Arjuna."

"I will, Mamashree," Arjuna said, bowing again.

"And where will your path lead you now?"

"Pushkara, Mamashree."

Vasudeva's brows lifted in approval. "Ah, a sacred choice."

From Arjuna's side, Krishna chuckled. "A fine destination, Partha," he said, his tone both light and knowing. "Enjoy your time there."

But as Krishna spoke, his gaze drifted toward Subhadra. Krishna walked toward Subhadra, his expression shifting into one of quiet gravity. He drew her aside, away from Arjuna's earshot.

"Bhadra," he said, his tone stripped of its usual playfulness, now edged with steel, "learn this well." His eyes pinned hers with unwavering focus. "If a time comes when I must choose between you and my Sakhi, I will choose her." His voice was calm, but the words burned with truth. "Niyati will choose her. And so, will Partha."

Subhadra's breath stilled, but her gaze did not falter. A storm of emotions flickered through her eyes—hurt, understanding, and acceptance. Krishna's gaze sharpened further. "Do you understand?"

A faint smile touched Subhadra's lips, its softness strangely resolute. "I understand, Brata." Her voice was steady, her tone unwavering. "The bond between you and your Sakhi transcends lifetimes beyond this mortal shell of existence. I know this truth since her Swayamvar, for you and Bhagini Niyati have always whispered her name with reverence that even the gods would envy. To stand against that—" her smile deepened "—would be both foolish and unjust. I do not seek to hold a place that was never mine to claim. But Brata..." her eyes glistened beneath the morning light, "...even if your choice will not be me, you are still my Brata. I will walk beside you, even if the path is not meant for me."

Krishna's eyes softened, the coldness in them melting into warmth. A rare glint of tenderness curved his lips. Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. Subhadra rested her head against his chest, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the quiet strength of his embrace.



Krishna's voice dropped to a murmur. "You are wiser than most, Bhadra." He pulled back slightly and touched her forehead. "Go now, with my blessing."

As Krishna handed Subhadra over to Arjuna, the pair stood at the grand gates of Dwaraka. Arjuna's hand rested protectively over Subhadra's, his eyes meeting Krishna's with unspoken gratitude. Krishna watched them walk away until they vanished down the marble path.

Then, without turning, his mind brushed against another presence, a quiet ripple across the fabric of existence. "I heard something last night." Krishna's voice stirred within the cosmic plane.

A familiar laugh answered him, light and knowing. "What is it, Narayan?"

Krishna's smile curved like moonlight across a dark sky. "Someone blessed my Sakhi to have a life full of happiness. And her next birth will only happen if she wills it." His eyes darkened with quiet awe. "And... I also learned about your promise."

"Ah," Niyati's tone sharpened. "Yes. Blessing her; that soul deserves rest, Narayan. From Vedavati to now... enough." There was a quiet storm beneath her voice, a shadowed ferocity. "But I know you too well. You will draw her back into this game of mortals and gods. That is why I blessed her happiness."

Krishna's gaze softened. "And the promise?"

Niyati's tone dropped into quiet steel. "When I was first awakened, I told all of you: if the same mistake happens despite the knowledge shared, then that soul shall not be reborn again. They will remain as lost fragments in the void of the cosmos."

Krishna's smile deepened. "You did not promise her anything beyond what was already fated."

"I only protected what was always hers," Niyati replied, her tone unwavering.

Krishna's eyes darkened with quiet reverence. "I'm not asking you to change anything. I'm happy." A soft exhale left his lips. "Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you, Niyati, blessing someone... that is the greatest gift of all." His gaze softened further. "And it was my Sakhi you blessed. The very first soul you ever blessed. And perhaps... the last."

There was a long pause before Niyati's voice whispered back, laced with a rare warmth. "Perhaps."

"When will you return?"

"Soon." Krishna's smile widened. "You reduced Partha's twelve-year journey to four months. Now, I am eager to meet all his sons and everyone."

Niyati's laugh stirred through the quiet plane of existence. "Ah... it will be a spectacle indeed, Narayan."

Krishna's gaze turned toward the horizon, where the path to Indraprastha stretched beyond sight. A quiet knowing glinted beneath his smile. "Yes... it will."



Note:

The original manuscripts affirm that Subhadra is an incarnation of Yogamaya—the divine embodiment of cosmic illusion and spiritual power. According to the revered texts of Madhvacharya, Subhadra is identified as the reincarnation of Trijata, the daughter of Vibhishana from the Ramayana. Trijata had faithfully served Devi Sita during her captivity in Ashoka Vatika, where her unwavering devotion and kindness earned her a sacred blessing from Lord Rama—that in her next life, she would be cherished and held close to him.

The Skanda Purana further reinforces that Subhadra is indeed Yogamaya, an incarnation of Lakshmi herself. It is said that this notable incarnation was destined to unite with Nara (Arjuna), who is an inseparable part of Narayana (Krishna). Additionally, Nidra Devi (Yoganidra)—born in Yashoda's womb as Ekanamsha (a manifestation of Vishnu's power who later merged into Parvati Devi)—is also linked to this cosmic truth. As per the Vedas, a woman imbued with the power of divine knowledge is regarded as Yoga-Maya, the very essence of Maha Lakshmi.

The notion of Suyodhan's proposed marriage with Subhadra is rooted in the interpretations of specific Madhvacharya texts. However, none of the original scriptures of the Mahabharata or the Puranas support this claim. No authentic epic or Puranas version mentions any such proposal or alliance between Suyodhana and Subhadra.

Though I follow Mahabharata Tatparya Nirnaya written by Madhvacharya, it is always cross-checked with other Puranas and then pick the one which has majorly supported the original text of Mahabharat (BORI Edition)

I have taken creative liberty in crafting the dialogues between Partha (Arjuna) and Madhava (Krishna). I have also included Draupadi's consent regarding Arjuna's decision to abduct Subhadra. Since Yudhishthira received a letter seeking permission for the marriage, it is only natural to assume that he would have also discussed the matter with Panchali. On that basis, I have woven Draupadi's acknowledgement and support into the narrative.