The moon hung high, its silver glow weaving soft halos across the land. The sea murmured against the shores of Dwarka, whispering secrets only the night could understand.

Beneath this celestial glow, Krishna stood beside a magnificent golden chariot. The divine craftsmanship shimmered under the moonlight, the horses restless as if they, too, sensed the destiny they were about to carry.

Across from him, Arjun stood tall, his fingers gripping his bow with quiet resolve. His heart pounded—not from fear, but from the weight of what was to come.

Krishna placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

"Take this, Parth," he said, his voice steady, filled with unshaken certainty. "Arm yourself well. The path you walk tomorrow may not be easy."

Arjun nodded, inhaling deeply.

"Tomorrow, Subhadra will ascend the Raivatak Mountain for prayer. When she descends, that is when you take her. Wait near Dwarka’s outskirts—I will handle the rest."

A deep exhale left Arjun’s lips as he steeled himself.

"I trust you, Keshav."

Krishna chuckled, his expression knowing, as if he could already see how fate would unfold.

"And I trust fate, Parth. Let us see how she plays her game."

The plan was set.

*****

Morning arrived, golden light spilling over Dwarka like a divine blessing. The Yadava royals, adorned in silk and jewels, ascended Raivatak Mountain in a grand procession. The bells rang, their echoes soaring through the heavens.

Among them, Subhadra stood in quiet devotion, draped in the softest of silks, her forehead cooled by fragrant sandalwood paste. She prayed longer than the others, her lips moving in whispered offerings.

The air felt different today.

She couldn’t place it, but something was shifting, as if the universe itself was holding its breath.

By the time she left the temple, the main procession was already far ahead. Alone with her maids and a handful of guards, Subhadra descended the sacred peak, trailing far behind the others.

She had no idea that fate was already racing toward her.

As not far from Raivatak Mountain’s base, Arjun sat atop Krishna’s golden chariot, his fingers tightening around the reins. The horses—Sugriva and Shaibya—stood restless, their powerful muscles coiled like arrows waiting to be loosed.

"This is it."

With a flick of his wrist, the chariot surged forward.

Wind howled in his ears. Dust rose in swirling patterns behind him.

And then—he saw her.

She stood at the center of the path, unaware of the storm racing toward her. Draped in silks soft as morning mist, golden jewelry catching the light, she looked like a dream.

And then—

He swooped down.

In one swift, fluid motion, Arjun reached out, strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her onto the chariot before she could even gasp.

The world tilted.

For a moment, everything blurred—her breath hitched, her heart thundered against her ribs.

The scent of sandalwood and earth filled her senses.

And then, she saw him.

Even in the simple robes of a yati, even with his hair bound away in a warrior’s knot, he was—

Beautiful.

A strange warmth spread through her chest, foreign and unexpected. Her lips smiles unknowingly.

The planes of his face—sharp, striking. The intensity of his eyes—unshaken, unreadable. His grip—strong, firm, yet careful.

Her lips parted slightly, a dazed breath leaving them.

But then—

"Rajkumari!"

Her maids' screams shattered the trance.

Subhadra gasped, her mind snapping back into motion.

The chariot jolted forward, speeding away from Raivatak. The wind lashed at her face, her veil whipping behind her.

Her guards roared in pursuit, swords flashing.

And yet—

The man beside her did not panic.

Without a word, he handed her the reins.

"Hold these for a moment," he said, as if they were simply traveling together, as if he wasn’t stealing her away.

Still half-dazed, she obeyed without thinking. The moment the leather reins touched her hands, she felt the strength of the horses through them—Sugriva and Shaibya, the finest of Dwarka’s war steeds.

Her heart stuttered.

These horses…

Her gaze darted to the chariot beneath her, its golden frame gleaming in the morning sun.

This chariot…

Her pulse spiked violently.

"This is bhrata Krishna’s chariot!"

A jolt of cold shot through her limbs.

Her grip on the reins tightened. Her mind raced.

"How? How does this man have Krishna’s chariot? Sugriva and Shaibya will never listen to anyone but him!"

A terrifying possibility struck her.

"Did he steal them?"

A sudden, sharp fear coiled in her stomach.

Her fingers brushed against the hidden blade at her waist.

A dagger—small but deadly.

A gift from Krishna and Balram, forged by their own hands.

When she was little Krishna had placed it in her palms with a smile, saying, "If danger ever comes, Ruchi, do not hesitate."

Balram had added, "Strike first. Ask questions later."

Subhadra's fingers curled around the hilt.

Should she use it?

Should she turn and drive the blade into this man’s chest?

Her breathing was uneven, heart pounding like a war drum.

But then—

She glanced at the horses again.

Sugriva and Shaibya would never listen to anyone but Krishna.

That meant…

Her fingers loosened slightly on the dagger’s hilt.

"Did bhrata Krishna… give him permission?"

A fresh wave of confusion crashed over her.

If he had given this man the chariot… then did that mean he was behind this?

But why?

Her stomach twisted. Her thoughts in chaos.

If bhrata Krishna willed this, then I cannot harm him.

But—what if he did steal the chariot?

What if he was not behind this?

Her grip tightened again.

The dagger was still there, waiting.

She could use it.

She should use it.

But—

Her gaze flickered back to him.

The sun caught in his eyes, turning them to molten gold.

His presence was… overwhelming.

A storm in human form.

Powerful. Steady. Unshaken.

Could she really harm him?

Even if she tried, could she bring herself to do it?

Her breath wavered.

Then—

She snapped out of thought as she heard The twang of a bowstring.

Arrows keep flewing, swift and sure, striking not flesh, but weapons—disarming, not harming.

Her guards faltered, their swords knocked from their hands.

And then—

An arrow shot skyward.

A heartbeat later, flower petals rained from the heavens.

Subhadra gasped, her eyes widening in astonishment.

The scent of jasmine and roses filled the air, petals catching in her hair.

She turned to him, stunned.

He smirked.

"You like flowers, don’t you?"

Her face burned.

She opened her mouth, words tangled on her tongue. But before she could speak, he reached over, his hand brushing against hers as he took the reins from her.

"Let me take them now," he murmured, voice softer this time. "I don’t want your hands to hurt."

Her fingers slipped away from the reins.

The world blurred around them.

The city of dwarka faded into the horizon.

To Be Continued

Note : actually these two chapter is the first one that I wrote, I revised it a lot do to my indecisive towards some of the few things but I think it's good now. I hope this is good enough for you. I know subhadra love him it's just I want her to not really notice it for now. I swear it won't be for long. I hope you guys love it ❤