#devasena

[anushkashettyfanclub]

Anushka Shetty as Devasena in Baahubali 2 is peak Cinema . 👑⚡️🦢 ICONIC FOREVER ✨️

[ahamasmiyodhah]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇; Sivagami messed up real bad.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Bhallaladeva x Manjari (OC)

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: @mahi-wayy

Devasena huffed as she cradled her swollen belly and swiftly walked towards the Chambers where Bahubali; her Husband and the King of Mahishmati, and Bhallaladeva, her elder brother figure and Commander of Mahishmati's army were planning something.

Things had gone awry when Devasena had took her firm stand up in front of Sivagami Devi, angering the Queen Mother in front of Whole Court. It was surprising, though, to see that Bhallaladeva confessed he didn't wish to marry Devasena anymore, and that Bahubali can marry her.

It would have led to civil war, but Bhallaladeva confronted Sivagami Devi which hurt her sentiments and the big ego she was growing back then, and the woman had declared that Bahubali will be crowned King and Bhallaladeva as Commander, but it came with consequences.

Bijjaladeva disowned his son.

Not that anyone cared, though.

The change in Bhallaladeva surprised both Devasena; who felt he was a snobby arrogant manchild and Bahubali, who was just happy his older brother was back. The two were though confused that who caused this change, and the day they found the answer when the Annual Jagadambika Poojan for nine days started.

The temple amidst intricate carvings and an aura of oil lamps lit up with a rhythmic sound of drums when Bhallaladeva, the fierce and imposing Commander of the Mahishmati Armed Forces, reached the place to join in the auspicious Pooja. There would stand courtiers, priests and noblemen, watching with reverence as the life within the temple, that earthly representative of divine power, the culture surrounding the kingdom.

As Pooja began, his thoughts strayed from rituals and chants toward the grand hall's center where a dancer moved with an entrancing grace. She was Manjari, a dusky-skinned Priestess whose movements turned into poetry, her anklets chiming with every step. She was dressed in red and gold, eyes glittering with a fire that almost matched the flames dancing upon the torches that supported the temple; and so living for the spirit of the goddess she adored. Bhallaladeva, sedate and poised as always, was entranced by Manjari's dance.

He saw each movement unfold as an expression of love and mystery, leading him deep into a trance. Her dance was much more than an art; it was a prayer, a powerful invoking to command every soul there to pay attention. For Bhallaladeva, the man of war and strategy, hardened, it was a profoundly spiritual experience to watch Manjari's ethereal dance.

He was exposed to the emotion-wrenching look in her eyes, the soft yet powerful dance of her figure, and the way that the mere presence of a person seemed to command the space. Amidst the blowing of conch shells and rising smoke of incense, Bhallaladeva came to realize that he was not observing something; but rather he was entranced by thin threads of invisibility connecting him to the divine priestess who danced as if she was calling the gods themselves to bear testimony to her devotion.

Devasena and Bahubali, both were elated that Bhallaladeva loved someone, and even helped him most of the times. Manjari was a Devadasi, hence even Sivagami didn't oppose her coming to Palace to see Devasena as she was pregnant, since a Devadasi is considered auspicious.

But right now, the danger looming over Manjari's head was something which scared Devasena.

The Princess of Kunthala reached the heavy doors and took a deeo breath, commanding the doors to be opened. Once they did, the occupants of room lookes at her. "Devasena? What are you doing here?" Bahubali asked as he and Bhallaladeva ran to her, making her sit on a Couch. Randev, Bahubali's friend brought a tumbler of water and handed it to Devasena.

"Bhalla! You have to run to Shiva Temple right now! Manjari! She's in danger!" Devasena exclaimed, her eyes wide. "What are you saying Devasena? Why will Manjari be in danger?" Bhallaladeva asked. "Rajmata. She wants you to marry the Princess of Simhadhwaja, Princess Yagnika. One of the courtiers told her about you and Manjari, and she has sent Soldiers to.." Bhallaladeva ran out before she could complete her sentence.

.

Manjari was all set to sleep when a shadow outside her hut in Temple sanctum, and the sound of footsteps made her sit straight. Manjari could feel the hammering of her heart in her chest as shadows appeared to move in the faintly lit corners of her room. Then came a whispery rustle of armor; metal faintly glinted, and into this darkness lurked the soldiers, their intent predatory.

Panic ran through her veins. She hastened, those fragile feet not making a sound on the cold marble floor as she slid by the door with her heart pounding with fear and instinct. That temple, once her safe haven, looked now like a trap closing in on her. She ran the maze of temple corridors, taking those ragged, shallow breaths. The soldiers pursued her mercilessly; their footsteps filled the air with an eerie echo of danger nipping at the heels of this poor woman running for life. Her sari fluttered behind her as a banner of defiance yet showed no clear path marked in front. Manjari darted her eyes to and fro searching around for her escape, but every turn took her deeper into the mazes.

Just as she thought she might find her way out, Manjari spun on her heel, the rush of fear fogging her vision, and crashed into something so immovable, so unyielding that it rooted her to the spot. She backpedaled, eyes wide with terror, but when she looked up again she was gazing into Bhallaladeva's face. His towering form filled her entire view, blocking her way out. His gaze, intensive and unreadable, locked onto hers, and the weight of her predicament settled heavily between them.

"Senapathi.." Manjari tearfully hugged him, as The soldiers behind her stopped short, freezing as they saw their doom in Bhallaladeva's eyes.

.

Bhallaladeva's footsteps echoed down the corridors of the palace, hot with indignation. His mind was bubbling over with bitter memories as he moved towards the Shiva Temple to his mother, Sivagami Devi, who was blamed. The Mahishmati kingdom had made her the regal queen mother-words for herself there were law. But to Bhallaladeva, she was a dim silhouette—thick and stern, unforgiving and unsweet. Bhallaladeva recalled how he always wanted his mother's love, even when a child; instead, he would get cold stares and a sharp tongue. Everywhere around him, people went around speaking of his strength and valor, but Sivagami's gaze was always on some fault-finding issue that had never brought across a proud motherly warmth. As he clenched his fists, memories of his childhood rushing back into his mind.

He could still remember all the attempts he had made to win her favor—by mastering the skill of war, performing exceptionally well in his studies, or showcasing his mastery in fights. But all in vain. Sivagami always compared him to his cousin, Amarendra Baahubali, whom she loved like her very son.

Bhallaladeva silently witnessed her when she gushed about everything Baahubali did, offering him that maternal pride Bhallaladeva has always wanted but would never receive. Every smile she threw towards Baahubali felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart as it reminds him of how he shall always be second in her eyes. Meanwhile, recalling the favours of Sivagami, Bhallaladeva ran toward the temple.

He recalled the day he was winning the fight in the ground, but she picked Baahubali, making known her decision that the throne would be bagged by him who served people best and not by him who sought power. The words had hurt him, and he recalled them every moment in his life.

He is not a son to her; on the contrary, he was a brutal man with an insatiable will to dominate, unbefitting the prince for which he had striven for his life. Bhallaladeva did not utter the pain, covering it with layers of ambitions and anger within him, and today the facade was crumbling apart. Before him was the temple, its massive structure jarringly contrasting the chaos within his soul.

Bhallaladeva's breath was laboured, his face screwed up in a snarl as he stormed up the steps, his eyes blazing with the fire of years-long pent-up resentment. This place, consecrated to the god of destruction, seemed apt for the storm that brewed inside him.

Today Bhallaladeva was not marching up to a temple; he was marching against the shackles of his whole life left untouched with scorn and negligence, every stride taken as a defiant act against the mother who never did see him for who he was.

Just as he turned in corner, a horrified Manjari ran into him. Looking in her eyes he realised how scared she was. Her dusky cheeks were red with all the crying, her eyes wide in fear and pain. Clutching her sari around her body, Manjari hugged him tightly. "Manjari, I'm here.. do not worry. Just... Close your eyes. You might not want to see." He said softly and Manjari nodded.

.

Thunder cackled in sky as Sivagami Devi sat on her throne, Bahubali and Devasena sitting nearby. The two were concerned as they waited Bhallaladeva's arrival. Soon the thunder cackled aloud, flashing the corridor in which stood a man holding a sword.

Sivagami Devi looked up, a shiver running down her spine as a bloody sight of a furious Bhallaladeva, and noted the flutter of a plain Red saree behind him. Bhallaladeva moved and her eyes widened when she saw Manjari, her hair partition filled with red Sindoor as he grabbed her hand and pulled her in, the girl looking fearful.

"Mother, meet your daughter-in-law, Manjari." He grinned, a grin which scared the three. Sivagami looked appalled, her wide eyes on Manjari as she looked at her from head to toe, her anger returning. "Bhalla!? What is this!?" She screamed.

Sivagami Devi's voice was at once shrill with indignation and robust as she berated Bhallaladeva with a flare in her eyes. "How dare you go against me to marry that temple dancer, Manjari?" she yelled, her speech loaded with scorn. "I wanted you to marry Yagnika, the Princess of Simhadhwaja, and seal an alliance for Mahishmati!" Her voice was robust, but behind it lay a hollow frustration—Bhallaladeva had gone against her wishes again.

Bhallaaladeva snapped. Climbing to his feet, he shouted into her face, "All my life, I've been nothing but a pawn in your schemes!" His voice was shaking with all the anger he felt, festering over the years. "You cared not for what I wanted, only for what you were about- your ambition. I am done living under your shadow," he said, the bitterness in his words as he confronted a mother who would never see him past his utility.

He took a step forward, eyes blazing with defiance. "I love Manjari," he said, his voice carrying through tension. "She sees me for what I am, not what she can get from me. I married her because she is my choice, not yours. I won't let you dictate my life again." Bold, defiant-a challenge flung at the feet of the woman who had always controlled his fate.

And for one moment, she was left speechless by this tirade, losing all her expression. Bhallaladeva's defiance shattered all the rigid expectations she had always imposed upon the world around her and created a chasm between them that seemed impossible to bridge. She could see him not as the son she had shaped but for the first time ever the man he had become, driven by a love that defied her will.

Sivagami soon moulded her expressions back in the cold one as she stood up. "You also are going like someone who once defied me." Bahubali looked away at that.

"Do not blame Bahu, Mother." Bhallaladeva sneered. "Manjari came in my life way before Devasena came in Bahu's life. And I won't let you dictate my life anymore." Bhallaladeva said. Sivagami stared at them for a moment before fleeting her eyes at Manjari, and left.

"Bhalla, you scared us!" Devasena exclaimed as she waddled fastly towards them and hugged Manjari. "Oh dear, you are so scared. Come, I will take you to room so that you can rest." She said and Manjari numbly nodded, before going with Devasena.

Manjari glanced back at Bhallaladeva, her heart pounding as she took in his imposing figure, drenched in blood from the fierce battle he had fought to protect her. His fierce gaze softened as it met hers, revealing a rare tenderness and love in his eyes. Overwhelmed by the realization of her deep feelings for him, she blushed, her cheeks turning a deep crimson. She gave him a small, shy smile before turning away.

.

.

.

.

.

@vishnavishivaa @mahi-wayy @yehsahihai @xxdritaxx @houseofbreadpakoda @ramayantika @warnermeadowsgirl @stxrrynxghts @mayakimayahai @chaliyaaa @celestesinsight @sambaridli @desigurlie @hum-suffer @sanskari-kanya @zeherili-ankhein @krsnaradhika @thegleamingmoon @ulaganayagi @voidsteffy @krishna-sangini @nidhi-writes @kaal-naagin @thecrazyinktrovert @koklknthiapsara

[whimsiquix]

I just realised, Varadha and Devasena have a lot of parallels. Apart from obviously falling in love with a vaguely Prabhas shaped human:

They both spend 25 years being tortured by family, waiting for someone who may as well not remember them/not know they exist/moved on/wont come back; they’re both promised by a heroic figure that they’d return one day to save them and the country; they both get limbs and heads chopped off in a court of law for their honour; they’re both fierce proud beautiful people surrounded by enemies who want to take them down; they’re both people who are clearly born to rule; they both sacrifice everything for love and spend years in hell for it.

[rathiman]

Ok folks, I had made a post about how I missed my desi fandoms and I found a few creators who are still making content for their fandoms. So please comment/reblog this if you're a creator who makes fics, art, memes, shitposts or any other form of media for any desi fandom. I want to find and support more fan content creators!!! Also mention the fandom(s) you make posts for!

[mahi-wayy]

the survivor's guilt. @warnermeadowsgirl @voidsteffy @ahamasmiyodhah @vijayasena

[myvarya]

~Dahi besan~

Bhalladeva x reader!oc

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Warning : fluff.

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“We have to find a way to eliminate Bahubali!” Bijjalladeva almost shouted, while Bhalladeva looked down and sighed, nodded his head. “Today's meeting is over.” he ordered everyone. Bijjalladeva grunted and limped away, with his followers following him. Slowly his room got empty, with just him. He went to his balcony to clear his thoughts and get some fresh air.

He heard throat clearing noise and chuckled. He turned around to find his one and only Meethi. She had a mischievous smile with her hands on waist looking at him. “did you miss me? Ofcourse you did!” she ran and hugged Bhalladeva with all her might. Bhalla didn't complain, it's the thing he needed the most right now, especially after a conversation with father, cause what the fuck was that!

He buried his face in her neck, smelling his favourite scent, “ok! Cuddling later” she broke the hug and took him to his bed and pushed him. He looked at her confused, he still remembers how they for the first time. Meethi had just got a job in the royal palace, yes she is a normal worker, but she stole his heart his when she broke that vase of his, and gave back sticking it together messily, it is still kept in a corner of his room, what? He wants to remember how he met her.

She back with bowl mixing somthing together, “lay on pillow properly!” she ordered and he did, immediately. She climbed on him, she tched, but wiped her fingers on her choli, she took one small piece of thread and tied bhalla front hair, like coconut tree. After doing that she took that blow and started putting the mask she made for him.

“What is this?” he asked curiously, “this is besan, dahi, and haldi, for you.” she replied, her toung sticking out a little, concentrating while putting on the mask, while he just admired her. “But why are putting this on me?” he again, “oho! Baby you have so many questions! Look at you, you look so tanned! And tired too. that's why!” she completed. He smiled sweetly listening to her, only she can talk to him like this, no one else, no one else has the audacity to even question him.

“Done!” she exclaimed breaking him out his thoughts, “isse gora ho jaunga mein?” he asked looking at himself in the mirror beside the bed, Meethi who was beside him, putting the leftover on her face nodded, “give me, I will put it go for you.” he took the blow from her hand and started putting the mask on her face.

“Done!” he exclaimed after a while, they both fell on the bed looking at the celling to let the mask dry.

Bhalla who was bored took his index finger and took a little mask on it and tasted it. He immediately frowned his eyebrows and stuck his toung out of his mouth at the bitter taste, Meethi immediately slapped his bicep, “ew, why would you do that! It doesn't taste nice” she scolded, “could've told me earlier” he told with little anger in his voice, she looked at him with eyes, he immediately shut up and looked down, “i have ordered snacks from the kitchen! No need to eat the mask” she completed.

He nodded, but shot up, “what if they saw us like this!” he asked panicking, Meethi immediately shot up as well, “oh no, I didn't think about that!” suddenly they heard a knock and he immediately pushed her behind his bed to hide, he went dusted his hand and made a pocker face, and went to open the door.

He saw the dasi who holding the plate full of snacks, but she looked as if she has seen a ghost, he didn't pay any mind to her and dismissed her, she immediately went away, to talk to her friends about the new look of the prince Bhalladeva.

He closed the door and put the plate on the bed, Meethi came out her hiding spot and started laughing hysterically, "why are you laughing like a bull?” he asked nonchalantly, Meethi stops immediately, “says the one who looks like one!” she replied back, he rolled his eyes and turned around only his appearance in mirror, his eyes widened, “Oh lord!!” he almost shouted, Meethi again couldn't help but wheeze at his misery. “This is all because of you” he said almost stomping his foot on the ground like a child, “Oh my baby!” she said cooing him and dragging him to the bathroom to wash of the mask on his face, which was not completely dry but it didn't matter now.

Bhalla came after washing his face, and laid on the bed with a slight pout, soon Meethi came after cleaning herself up. She saw how bhalla was behaving, she climbed the bed and big spooned him. He tried to get out of grip but she tightly hugged him. Few mins later he turned around to see her still looking at him with a idiotic smile on her face. He didn't say anything and buried his face in face, mumbling something to himself.

“don't worry about that vimala, I will handle her later!” she said, gently caressing his hair, he nodded and hugged her. “i love you.” he mumbled.

“I love you too my dahi bhalla.” she completed kissing his forehead. Slowly sleep indulged them.

The snacks were still there on the bed getting cold.

_________________________________________

I don't know what I just wrote but this is something came in my mind at 3 am in the morning. And also this slightly inspired by hehe- @mayakimayahai. I don't know after the conversation with her, gave this idea.

@tumharisakhi @ahamasmiyodhah @mayakimayahai @warnermeadowsgirl @ranisingsnew @mahi-wayy @ranisingnewyetagian .

[devarathashouryangaraisar]

Only INSANELY good looking people get their wall sized portraits in cinema

[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - III | HIS NIYATI

MASTERLIST

one | two | three | four

The morning sun cast a golden glow over Mahishmati, and as I stepped onto the balcony, I couldn't help but marvel at the day's warmth. Devasena and Baahubali had left early with Kattappa to visit the temple, leaving a note explaining they hadn't wanted to wake me. Smiling at Devasena's thoughtfulness, I gazed at the sunlit kingdom stretched before me, the grandeur and beauty somehow more vivid than even the films I'd watched back in my world. How could this be fictional when I was living it?

Also, my heart string tugged at the images of the last few days; Bhallaldeva has been crowned as a King, and to witness such a grand scene in front of me made me feel out of the world; this time, I am not viewing it outside of the screen, but I sat next to Devasena and watched the whole ordeal, the way people wanted Baahibali but yet the Crown passed to Bhalla who has his arrogant smirk on his face all the way the end but yet whenever his eyes met mine it held something else which I am not able to put the finger on.

I shook my head, returned to the present, and gathered myself to meet them at the temple or perhaps ready myself for their return; something caught my eye—a pond just across the grounds. It sparkled invitingly, and before I knew it, Quickly, I slipped into a simple white cloth that hugged my form modestly, and without hesitation, I slipped into the cool water. The feeling was pure bliss. The water enveloped me, washing away any lingering doubts and fears, leaving me refreshed and weightless. My mind felt as clear as the sky above, my worries sinking below the surface. Here, in this hidden pond, life didn't feel complicated. Just simple, beautiful, and strangely... peaceful.

But reality has its way of reminding us of its presence.

As I began to leave the pond, I stepped onto a mossy stone and felt my foot slip. My arms flailed, bracing for the cold plunge back into the water when a hand grabbed me firmly. I collided with a broad chest, the strength of the arms holding me steady, their warmth sinking into me even as my heart raced. I gasped, regaining my balance, and looked up to thank my saviour.

"Thank you—"

My words trailed off as my gaze met the steely eyes of Bhallaladeva himself, his face barely an inch from mine. The notorious Bhalla, the very man whose gaze alone could command armies, now held me close, his eyes locked onto mine with a piercing intensity that froze me.

It was more than I had expected, more intense than anything I'd prepared for, standing here in the embrace of Mahishmati's most dangerous man. And yet, as Bhallaladeva looked down at me, his gaze softened. I'd only seen his eyes filled with something harsh and calculating, like a storm brewing beneath the surface. But now, in the quiet of this early morning, his expression held a warmth, a flicker of something... else. It was enough to make my heart quicken, even as I tried to keep my composure.

I could feel the cool morning air pricking at my damp skin, sending a shiver down my spine. My soaked form clung to me, and droplets fell from my hair like small streams trailing along my cheeks. I swallowed, trying to steady myself as his eyes trailed over my face, lingering, almost as if he were memorising each detail.

Without a word, his hand moved to tuck a few stray strands behind my ear, his fingers grazing my skin with the lightest touch. I knew I should step back and pull away before anyone caught us, but I felt rooted in place, almost as if his presence had drawn me in like a magnet. Every time I considered retreating, his hand anchored me, his steady gaze holding me captive.

With a surge of unfamiliar anticipation, I realised I didn't want to leave.

As his fingers moved, his thumb traced a delicate path along my jawline, lingering there as his hand settled firmly on my waist. I was acutely aware of how close we were, how his chest was pressed against mine, firm. I could even feel his abs through the thin material, a steady reminder of the power he carried. My heart raced in a way I couldn't control.

"K-King Bhallaladeva..." I managed, though my voice barely sounded like my own.

He only chuckled softly, sounding equal parts amusement and something deeper. His lips turned into a slow, almost indulgent smile as his eyes settled on me again. "You don't need to address me so formally," he murmured, his voice like a warm breeze, his gaze not breaking away.

I felt a strange thrill race through me, my heart hammering as his thumb brushed my skin again as if lingering to prolong the moment. And for now, I couldn't look away.

Unable to say another word, I watched as he finally stepped back, a strange expression in his eyes. But before leaving, he gave me a look that lingered longer than I expected, a look that left a warmth in my chest and a tangle of emotions I wasn't ready to name.

After that unexpected morning encounter with the King, I managed to keep my distance, though some seemed to ache for his warmth. I kept reminding myself that this infatuation had no future. Maybe it was just because Bhallaladeva, or rather Rana, the actor who portrayed him, was undeniably handsome. But then, if it were just about looks, shouldn't I have felt the same around Baahubali? Yet, it was different with him—Baahubali felt like a brother, a friend, someone I could admire but not romantically.

The day passed, and Devasena returned from the temple, glowing with a joy I hadn't seen in her before. It was odd to see her so giggly and blushing—she, who was usually so composed and strong, now seemed wrapped up in the happiness Baahubali brought to her. I suppose that's the power of a man who truly knows his strength. The wedding was set to occur the day after tomorrow, and Devasena wanted me close by her side through it all. I felt honoured and threw myself into making sure every detail was perfect for what felt like a real-life fairytale wedding.

I also made sure to avoid any further encounters with the King. For my peace of mind, I couldn't afford to feel that inexplicable draw to him again. With each passing hour, I busied myself with wedding preparations, arranging flowers, planning decorations, and helping Devasena choose her jewels—anything to keep my mind from wandering back to Bhalla.

Then, the wedding morning arrived. The air was alive with blissful energy, the entire kingdom adorned in celebratory colours, flowers, and lights that cast a warm glow over Mahishmati. I felt surprisingly emotional as I watched Devasena, radiant and fierce, join Baahubali at the altar. When they tied the knot, I saw a love so deep and natural between them that it made me believe in destiny, even for a moment.

For Devasena and Baahubali, this day marked the start of a powerful bond, a partnership as fierce and loyal as they both were. And even as I celebrated with them, my heart tucked away its quiet fluttering, locking away the memory of a morning gaze that I was determined not to revisit.

***

It had been a few days since I'd last managed to escape from Bhallaladeva's presence successfully. All the men, including Baahubali and the King, attended an important council meeting. I decided it was an excellent time to explore the palace grounds while avoiding any run-ins with Mahishmati's so-called "noblemen." Baahubali aside, I wasn't exactly thrilled by the company of most of them. These powerful men carried their authority as an excuse to intimidate and dominate. Sethupathi, Bhallaladeva's obnoxious friend, was the worst of them, with a gaze that made my skin crawl.

Caught up in my thoughts, I stared out over Mahishmati's breathtaking view when a prickling sense of dread crept up my spine. I turned slowly, only to see Sethupathi standing there, smirking, his eyes lingering where they shouldn't.

"What's a flower of Kuntala doing here all alone?" he said, stepping closer. I forced a smile that probably looked as thin as paper. The last thing I wanted was to encourage him, but it was better than showing my genuine disgust.

"Oh, I was just admiring the view. Devasena asked me to meet her, so I should be on my way," I said, attempting to slip past him.

But he sidestepped, blocking my path. "What's the rush? Doesn't the princess's friend know how to be polite?" He grinned with a leering look that made my stomach turn. If not for Baahubali and Devasena, I'd have scratched that smirk off his face by now.

I managed a tight smile. "Oh, I know how to be polite, but I choose not to waste it where it isn't deserved. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Ignoring my hint, he edged even closer. "Why hurry away? We could spend a little time together." The suggestion sent a wave of nausea over me.

"I can't," I replied quickly, stepping back again. But he stayed in my way, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

"Could you move out of my way?" I asked, keeping my voice steady, though I could feel the irritation in my bones. Perhaps I should've been more assertive, but Sethupathi wasn't the type to take 'no' for an answer.

He leaned in, closer than I could bear. "And what if I don't want to?"

Just then, a voice broke through, booming and unmistakable. "Maybe you should leave the lady alone, Sethupathi."

I saw Bhallaladeva standing at a distance, his eyes blazing red like rubies.

Just like that, the repulsive Sethupathi transformed into a model of politeness under Bhallaladeva's sharp gaze. "We were just having a conversation, my King," he stammered, his meek tone making me want to roll my eyes. Baahubali would take care of him in the future anyway, so I let it go.

"Really?" Bhallaladeva's voice was laced with barely concealed menace. "Well, I'd rather you start on the task I assigned you." Sethupathi's face drained of colour as he nodded and scurried off, leaving me with a wave of relief and a small smile of triumph. But just as quickly, I remembered my predicament—alone now with the intense gaze of Mahishmati's powerful, enigmatic King.

His eyes seemed to pierce into my soul, carrying a depth I hadn't anticipated, something more than just authority. I tried to meet his gaze, but a warmth that was comforting and unsettling crept over me. His footsteps drew closer, and I focused intently on the ground, swallowing as my pulse quickened. If I dared to look up, I would be face-to-face with him, close enough to feel his breath. Unlike Sethupathi's repulsive proximity, being near Bhallaladeva stirred something different, a longing I didn't want to admit. My mind flashed to our brief but unforgettable encounter at the pond just days before.

"Won't you look at me?" His low voice sent a tremor through me, and I gasped softly, lips parting as I finally lifted my gaze. His dark brown eyes held mine, softer and more vulnerable than I'd ever seen, spilling over with an inexplicable warmth.

"Th-thank you, King," I whispered, struggling to keep my composure as his eyes drank me in, unwavering.

"It's my pleasure, Nandhini," he replied, my name slipping from his lips like a caress. Heat flooded my cheeks, and his gaze sparkled, noticing the flush on my face. As I stepped back, I felt the wall against my back, effectively trapping me. His hand reached up, fingertips tracing my cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was soft, almost reverent, leaving me breathless.

"My King..." I tried to speak, but my voice was barely audible.

"Look at me." This time, his tone held undeniable authority. "Call me Bhalla. Please."

A small smile tugged at my lips. This softer side of him was unlike anything I had expected, making me see him in an entirely different light. "But you're a king..." I stammered, trying to reason.

He shook his head gently, his thumb grazing my cheekbone, and my stomach twisted at his touch. I was overwhelmed by an inexplicable desire to feel his hands over every inch of me. What was happening to me?

"Okay... if that's what you wish, I'll call you Bhalla." His smile grew, but his gaze held a depth, a longing I couldn't quite place. Something was hidden in his expression, just out of my reach.

"Do you... remember me?" he asked, his voice dropping to an almost pleading tone.

I frowned slightly, trying to understand. "Remember you? What do you mean?"

But before he could answer, a voice echoed down the hallway. Devasena's voice broke the moment, shattering the intimacy that had enveloped us. Panicking, I gently pushed away from Bhalla, stepping aside quickly as I composed myself, not wanting to be seen alone with him.

Still, even as I hurried to meet Devasena, I could feel his gaze on me, lingering, intense, and filled with something I still couldn't name.

***

It had been almost eight months since I'd left Mahishmati and returned to Kuntala. Staying in one place too long felt stifling, especially when a certain someone was there, stirring up emotions I wasn't ready to face. Distance seemed like the best cure—one that would erase any fluttering feelings that had started to surface. Now, though, I was headed back for Devasena's baby shower, travelling with her brother and sister-in-law, trying to convince myself that both Bhalla and I would have forgotten each other by now.

As we arrived, Devasena practically jumped from her seat, a wide grin lighting up her face as she rushed over to embrace me. Over these months, we had exchanged countless letters, staying close despite the distance. Baahubali stood nearby, his warm smile a welcome sight, while Devasena pulled her family members into joyful hugs. 

The following day, the palace buzzed with life as everyone gathered to bless the soon-to-be parents, Devasena and Baahubali. Just as the ceremony began, an announcement echoed through the hall, signalling the entrance of Queen Mother Sivagami, King Bhallaladeva, and his father. I had never grown used to the sight of Sivagami Devi, once known to adore Baahubali beyond reason, now carrying herself like a distant stranger. She blessed Devasena but looked at her with barely any warmth, saying, "Be careful, Devasena. You are carrying the kingdom's heir."

I felt a surge of indignation, my stomach twisting at her words. Not Devasena, just the heir. She didn't care about Devasena's well-being; she only cared about the child. I shook off my frustration, not wanting to cause a scene, but the anger only grew as I caught sight of Bhalla, his eyes already fixed on me with a mischievous gleam. His lips curled into a smirk as he took in my form, and I quickly averted my gaze, trying to refocus.

After the blessing, Bhallaladeva congratulated Baahubali with a generous smile. "Brother, take some time to rest. Stay with Devasena until the baby is born. After all, the court can manage without you for a while. I'll make sure everything is taken care of," he said, voice silky, though I could sense the layers of implication beneath his offer.

Baahubali gave a slight nod, and just then, Sethupathi spoke up from his place beside Bhalla. "I'd be honoured to support you in your absence, Baahubali. I know Mahishmati needs its best hands."

My fists clenched, but I kept quiet. My hand rested on Devasena's shoulder as I felt her body tense beside me. Her jaw was set, and her eyes glared daggers at Bhallaladeva and Sethupathi.

"How dare he?" Devasena muttered under her breath as they exited the room. She turned to Baahubali, her voice shaking with anger. "You promised me, Baahu. You promised you'd do anything I asked. Well, now I'm asking you to stand up for yourself, for us. I want you to be King, Baahu!"

Baahubali looked torn, glancing between his wife and brother's retreating figure as if the world's weight rested on his shoulders. "Deva..." he began, his tone gentle, but the words failed him.

"Baahubali," she said firmly, hurt flashing across her face, "I need you to stop bending to others' will. Don't you see what Bhallaladeva is doing? He wants you out of the way so he can take your place!"

Baahubali's head dropped slightly, his silence only making her more agitated. Finally, I placed a hand on her arm, gently squeezing her.

"Come on, Deva," I whispered. "Let's go back to your room for now."

As I led her out, she looked back at Baahubali, disappointment evident in her gaze.

The urge to step in and change everything weighed heavily on me. I knew what would happen next, but I also knew how deeply Baahubali trusted his brother and loved his mother and kingdom. Even if I tried to warn him, would he believe me? His loyalty to his family would blind him to others' true nature.

The next day, Devasena asked me to accompany her to the temple. Memories of this day rushed back—this was the day Sethupathi would overstep his bounds and face Devasena's wrath. Determined to prevent the fallout that would lead to her and Baahubali being cast out, I quickly positioned myself to Devasena's right, leaving her on the left side, away from Sethupathi. If I could keep Sethupathi from trying anything inappropriate, maybe the future could still be salvaged.

As we approached the temple, Sethupathi gestured us out of the unique entrance reserved exclusively for the King. Devasena's eyes narrowed, sensing my frustration, and she nodded,  choosing the entrance meant for commoners instead. I walked alongside her, keeping a close eye on Sethupathi. His gaze wandered over other women, and I noticed the casual way he brushed his hand across one woman's back, making my stomach churn with disgust. My lips tightened, but I kept silent, hoping that enduring this would protect Devasena and Baahubali.

I was so focused on controlling my reaction that I didn't notice Devasena's eyes growing dark with anger. She had been watching the entire scene unfold—seeing me tense up and noticing Sethupathi's leering actions toward the women before us. Just as he reached a handout dangerously close to me, Devasena's patience snapped.

In one swift motion, she pushed me behind her, yanking a knife from Sethupathi's belt before I could even react. In a fluid motion, she slashed downward, cutting his fingers clean off. Blood splattered onto the temple steps, and Sethupathi's scream filled the air.

"Deva, stop!" I shouted, but my voice was swallowed by the shock that rippled through the gathering crowd.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on her," Devasena spat, her voice ice-cold, fury blazing in her eyes as she stood protectively before me.

Sethupathi clutched his bleeding hand, stumbling back in shock and pain. "You—how dare you! I am the King's trusted general!" he shouted, but his voice wavered with fear.

Devasena's voice cut through his protests like a blade. "Trust does not give you the right to disrespect any woman," she retorted. "Especially not under the guise of loyalty. Touch her again, and you'll lose more than a few fingers."

A part of me wanted to scream at her for her impulsiveness, but I also felt an overwhelming sense of pride and gratitude. She had risked everything to protect me without hesitation.

The court was tense, with Devasena shackled and surrounded by judgmental gazes. I stood nearby, fighting back tears as I watched her be treated like a criminal. Every whisper and every dismissive glance made me feel more helpless. My frustration boiled over as I shouted, "Is this how you treat your kingdom's daughter-in-law and the one carrying its heir?"

A hush fell over the court, and all eyes shifted to me. Queen Mother Sivagami's glare burned into me while King Bhallaldeva smirked from his throne, his gaze laced with something unnerving yet familiar. Just then, Sethupathi, still nursing his injured hand, sneered through gritted teeth, "Watch your tongue! You are speaking to the Queen Mother!"

Ignoring the tightening knot in my stomach, I met his gaze and let a faint smile play on my lips. "Maybe you should watch where you're inserting yourself, Sethupathi. Who knows, it might be more than just your finger that gets cut next time."

Sivagami's voice thundered through the hall, silencing every murmur. "Who gave you the right to speak in our court? A girl with no position should know her limits!"

Her scorn caused Devasena, silent until now, to spring to my defence. "Is this how you treat your people?" she demanded, her voice unyielding. "You arrested me without a fair trial, and now you're treating the girl who is like my sister with such disdain. Don't people in Mahishmati know how to show respect?"

Gasps echoed around us. Just then, Baahubali strode in, his presence commanding silence. His gaze darkened as he took in Devasena's shackled form, his fists clenching at her mistreatment.

"What happened, Devasena?" he asked, his voice deadly calm though his eyes were already burning with fury.

Devasena didn't hesitate, recounting Sethupathi's attempts to touch me inappropriately and the way he mistreated other women as well. I could feel the moment's weight, and as I glanced at Bhalla, his reaction caught me by surprise. His jaw was tight, his eyes locked on me with a mixture of rage and something else—a silent question, a need to know if this was true. Despite the situation, I found myself nodding, a tear escaping down my cheek. His subtle, acknowledging nod shook me, and I quickly refocused on the scene unfolding.

Sethupathi began stammering out a denial, but before he could finish, Baahubali advanced toward him in a swift, lethal motion. "In Mahishmati," he announced coldly, "a man who dares to dishonour women deserves no less than death." In one stroke, he drew his sword and, without hesitation, severed Sethupathi's head, the declaration echoing in the court.

Gasps filled the hall as Sethupathi's lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

***

As Baahubali and Devasena left the palace grounds, stripped of their titles and finery, I could only watch, my heart heavy. I had tried to follow their example, removing my jewellery in solidarity, but Devasena stopped me with a gentle, insistent look. "These jewels are from Kuntala," she said softly. "You don't need to part with them."

I pouted, wanting to share their fate, but she touched my shoulder. "When we leave, I want you to return to Kuntala. Be there, wait for us," she whispered firmly. I opened my mouth to protest, but her determined gaze silenced me. She wrapped me in a warm hug, kissed my cheek, and left, her figure retreating alongside Baahubali into the welcoming crowd. I watched them go, their people surrounding them with open arms, Kattappa by my side, his eyes brimming with tears as he bade them farewell. He gently patted my head, his comforting touch a silent reassurance.

As he led me back to my chamber to pack, a sense of anxiety gnawed at me. The palace that had once felt secure now seemed foreign, its stone walls cold and unwelcoming. I quickly gathered my things, eager to leave. As I was about to slip into the quiet night, footsteps echoed through the halls. Startled, I darted behind a pillar, my heart pounding as I held my breath.

The footsteps grew closer, steady and unhurried, and my pulse quickened. I dared a glance from behind the stone, and there he stood—Bhalla. His eyes locked on the pillar where I was hiding, and an unsettling smile curved his lips. "Well, well," he drawled, his voice like ice laced with fire. "The flower of Kuntala is shy now?"

I inched along the other side of the pillar, praying he would leave. But as I attempted to move toward the garden doors, a pair of strong arms looped around my waist, trapping me. He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear, and whispered in a chilling tone, "Gotcha."

A shiver ran through me as a single tear escaped, trailing down my cheek. Helplessly, I wondered what lay ahead—what plans he had for me now and whether I'd ever see the ones I cared about again.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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[hum-suffer]

We'll say hello again (Nevermind the chasm between us) 12

The Diwali celebration is a beautiful sight to see at any day and especially at night. It's gorgeous and the whole state looks alive for the fortnight.

Gauri is allowed to attend the puja, the gleam in her brother's eyes tells her he had something to do with it but he's never opened up about it and Gauri doesn't think he will answer truthfully if she asks.

Something in her makes her want to drown. Does she need a man, even if it's her brother, to protect her? To defend her? To advocate her validity?

A finger brushes against her wrist and Gauri glances at Maa. She gives Gauri a smile, gentle yet reprimanding. "Focus, daughter." Gauri, properly chastised even though she hadn't even been scolded, looks away smiling.

They're given the first prasad after the Puja and as is traditional, Gauri takes the plate of fruits and smiles at the Rajpurohit. "Let me have the honor, Pandit ji." The Rajpurohit's face twists in a bitter grimace and Gauri takes all the more enjoyment in it. However, he seems to be trying to shove the plate off to someone else.

Gauri glances at Maa out of the corner of her eye and her impassive face tells Gauri that she needs to learn how to handle this on her own.

Her smile turns sharper, bigger. She beckons Bhairav forward and gestures him towards the plate. "Let my friend have this insurmountable honour, Pandit ji."

She shouldn't take so much pleasure in being a general menace. But making the Rajpurohit choose between either a woman recently over her periods and a man who is a mere sworn sword, little more than a slave in the eyes of men.

Pandit ji looks to be gritting his teeth before he smiles at her and wordlessly shoves the plate of fruits into her hands. She turns around pleasantly. "Come, Bhairav, one of us has to distribute the fruits, don't we?"

She's sure the Rajpurohit heard her when she hears Bahu snort and Maa sigh.

Bhairav looks awestruck and he makes a token protest about being unworthy but Gauri gives him a smile, giddy and smug, and Bhairav closes his mouth instantly.

Katappa is the only one who has tears in his eyes as Bhairav hands him a slice of banana. Gauri beams at him,"What are you staring at, Mama? It's Diwali, look alive!" The other people in the temple seem ecstatic to see her, some of them touch her hands and, as much as she tries to not let them, her feet.

The plate empties not soon after, when they're outside of the temple. The crowd has already thinned, and Gauri already has a ridiculously smug smile on her face. Bhairav looks done with her. "My princess, do try to look less smug. The public does not know that you gain pleasure in baiting your possible assassins."

"You worry too much, Bhairav." She grins at him, but her hand spasms in the way that reminds her once again of the way that Ratan had jerked her off. To distract herself, she pointedly drops the last slice of an apple into his hand. Bhairav gives her a look that tells her that he knows that she's distracting him from the conversation.

Before she can cajole him into being less sour, she hears a whisper of a movement. She stills and so does Bhairav, even though he looks confused. Her sense of hearing is sharper than most, he mustn't have heard it. There's another movement and this time, she can hear steel. She looks at Bhairav out of the corner of her eye and sees him looking around in confusion. He hasn't heard that.

Her heart beats in her ear and she takes a deep breath. She knows, she knows that she needs Bhairav here. But she also needs witnesses. Prominent, objective witnesses.

"Get my brothers and Maa." She tells him, her voice sounding harsh and furious to her own ears. She sees him open his mouth in protest but before he can speak, she gives him a look. "Now, Bhairav."

He hesitates for a moment before grabbing his dagger and pushing it in her hands. "I shall be right back, my princess."

Gauri nods at him and tightens her grip on the dagger, one finger at a time. His dagger is beautifully sharp and she's grateful for that. He gives her a heavy look and Gauri doesn't know what it means but before she can have a chance to decipher it, he turns on his heels and makes a run for the temple.

Gauri tilts her head, focusing on the full thump on the ground. It's probably footsteps. Uneven footsteps.

She looks back at the temple for a moment and breathes. Let me live today, she thinks. Let me have my vengeance.

The footsteps get louder.

There's a pause, a heavy silence, before she hears the noise quicken and steel cutting through air behind her. Gauri ducks on sheer instinct and it's the Rajpurohit who has a sword in his hands, holding it over his head, ready to strike again. Gauri swipes the dagger at his ankle, uncaring of war rules and ethics. He curses, jumping back, and swings the sword again. She parries with the dagger but she's at a disadvantage because of the size of the blade.

He kicks her stomach, and Gauri stumbles enough to trip and fall down. Before she can stand up, he kicks her face, hitting his foot on her nose.

Gauri grabs his ankle and twists it, pushing him away to stand up. She breathes heavily through her nose and tries to stabilize her heaving chest. Gauri feels her nose hurt and eyes burn in response but she only readjusts her hold on the dagger she's and snarls.

"You dare?" He says,"Coming here after I told you not to, sullying my place of worship with your presence! You dare break the sanctity of my sanctuary?"

Gauri grits her teeth. She doesn't reply and ducks underneath the sword. The blow would have sliced her torso and pulled out her intestines. The blaze of fury burns in her veins and she uses his momentum as an advantage to twirl around him and hit his back with the thali. She grasps the thali in her other hand vertically and stabs it in his back again, twice, thrice, until he's leaning forward and falling down and coughing.

Gauri doesn't realise that's blood on her hands.

But when she does, a surge of bloodlust roars through her. Now, she will aim for the neck.

He turns around at the last moment and kicks her stomach, sending her tumbling back, on the ground. She heaves and feels the ache spread over her torso like venom. Gauri clenches her teeth. She stands up again.

But before she can drive the dagger through his heart, there's already an arm snaking around his neck and choking him. She recognises the armband. It's Bhairav.

The Rajpurohit gurgles and elbows Bhairav, who grunts but doesn't let up. Gauri takes the moment to punch his nose, once, twice and thrice. Her eyes meet Bhairav's over the Rajpurohit's shoulder and the fury she sees in his eyes blinds her for a moment.

She wants nothing more than to kill him.

She knows that it is what he is feeling.

Dizzy with pain and want of blood, Gauri grits her teeth. "Don't kill him," she rasps,"Don't kill him, Bhairav."

He is hers to kill, Gauri thinks. But she won't kill him. It is not her discretion.

Bhairav nods at her resolutely, even as the Rajpurohit's eyes droop and his gurgles die down. He holds her eyes, even as her family comes closer. He holds her eyes, as her brothers fuzz over her and Katappa fuzzes over him. He holds her eyes and Gauri holds his dagger.

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The trial is but a farce.

Somehow, her uncle manages not to get his name in the middle of the hell that the Rajpurohit's statement is. The official statement tells his distaste of Gauri due to her impertinence and her major flaw of being a royal woman.

Gauri doesn't stay to see the end of the trial.

Her stomach is covered with bruises, black and blue. Her hand heals a little everyday.

Bhairav is thoroughly scolded by Katappa and Bhalla for leaving her and Bahu is an overbearing shadow. Maa doesn't allow her to be alone anywhere until the trial ends. Bhairav keeps his duties impersonal. Her uncle gives her snide looks.

Gauri wants to scream.

It is her life that was threatened and yet her decisions seem to be everyone's favourite idea to despise.

Bhairav trails behind her, quiet as a mouse. His silence burdens her in ways she cannot begin to explain.

Gauri walks towards the armoury where Katappa is training the new recruits. He smiles when he notices her, the only person who isn't disappointed by her these days.

He walks towards her and stands beside her, Bhairav stops at a respectable distance to give them the illusion of privacy but they all know that he can hear them.

"How are you faring, Gauri?" Katappa asks her, gesturing a guard to bring her a chair. She overrides his order with a shake of her head.

"Way worse than is expected of a person who survived an assassination attempt. It seems that the only one happy to see me in this palace is my damned horse."

Katappa chuckles at her. "It is not like that, Gauri," his tone is reassuring but does it really matter? He continues,"We were all just very worried for you when Bhairavrath burst through and told us to come to you without any explanation and we found you two fighting the Rajpurohit. You must admit, it is a sight one cannot understand. An assassination attempt on you, Gauri. It is no small deal."

"And yet, I am made to feel like the culprit. Because I cared for diplomacy more than bloodlust?" She looks away with a sneer, staring into the far ends of the city that too must have heard about what happened at the Diwali Puja. "Whatever they say, Mama, I am still my mother's daughter. Polity is my best suit. I did what was right, and yet no one seems to want to understand me."

She's aware that she sounds petulant but is too far gone to care. She just wanted what was best for the state and her family, damn them. The least they could do is understand her reasoning.

Katappa's eyes soften. "Tell me, then."

Gauri sighs. "Had I not sent Bhairav away, we would have dealt with the Rajpurohit too. He is much more efficient than I am at the moment, I am very well aware that the matter would have ended without either of us hurt, had I let him stay."

Katappa doesn't say a word, lets her continue.

"But then, the tale could have been spun. We're but children in the eyes of you all, do not dare to deny it. Had you found that particular scene without warning, the tale could have been spun to say that we were misguided and we were the real perpetrators." Gauri sighs and wishes she hadn't denied the chair. She hadn't taken into account just how tired she is.

"And Maa may have trusted us, but she would have been labelled an emotional and unfit ruler, had she trusted the word of her daughter over the circumstantial evidence." Gauri turns again, catches Bhairav's eyes. He doesn't pretend that he is not overhearing them. He raises an eyebrow and the action endears him to her undeniably, a hint of his personality she's seen in two days.

She turns back to Katappa. "I don't want the crime of Brahmhatyaa on either of our heads. And trust me when I say this, Mama; the man would have been dead if I was as honest or as frank as my brothers are. He's alive, because he is useful. I let my culprit live and for what? Scorn? Distrust? Disappointment?"

Bitterness clogs her throat and she clenches her hands, her healing one sending tingling sensations up her arm. Her mouth tastes like ashes.

Katappa smiles at her, in that soft fatherly way that he so seldom does. Often, he preoccupies himself with believing that he is unworthy of the love that Gauri and Bahu give him. It is true that Gauri doesn't share that deep of a bond with him— she follows her brother, blindly, and if he gives his affection to Katappa, so shall she— but she's always had a kind of kinship and easy affection that flows between them. He provides her with clarity and safety.

Katappa is her safety away from comfort.

"Gauri, my child," he whispered, voice deliberately lowered and kindred,"I do not think that you want me for this conversation."

Gauri shakes her head. It is true that she wants her brothers and Maa to understand her. It is truer that she wants Bhairav to stop being so impersonal. But she needs Katappa to know this too. "No. I am at the correct place, having a true conversation with the correct person. The others that need to know, will ask me. If they can condemn me without knowing, they can apologise without knowing, too."

Her anger shimmers close to the surface even as Katappa changes the topic and asks her about her plans for the future and he tells her of ridiculous rumours that fly in the city. Some are amusing while some are plain unbelievable.

"They say you too Mata Mahalakshmi's blessings and tore down the Rajpurohit like She did with Kohlasur." Katappa says as they slowly come to an end, pride clear in his tone. Gauri shakes her head with a smile. She really loves the small folk and their inclination towards the dramatics of life.

"I shan't keep you any longer, Mama. Thank you for listening to me." She moves forward and tenderly hugs him, mindful of her own bruises. Katappa, infinitely more mindful, keeps his hands on her shoulder and her head, patting her head. She can tell that he's shocked but he doesn't freeze.

"Thank you for sharing with me," he says as they part, his eyes suspiciously glistening. "And do come whenever you will it. You are always welcome."

She nods and smiles at him. It doesn't feel forced.

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The stony silence between them continues all the way to the gardens. Gauri, still righteously angry, feels no need to break it. Let him suffer, she thinks. Let him suffer in my silence.

Gauri sits down on the ground, curling in on herself to save her from the cold. She looks at Bhairav, standing rigidly, and feels the sting of mercy in her heart. "Sit down if you want to, Bhairav."

She doesn't look up to see if he sits down. After a moment of hesitation, she hears shuffling and he's sitting beside her.

Gauri closes her eyes and hopes that her mind quietens now, after her talk with Katappa. At least he listened to her. She needs to talk with her family too, needs them to know, too. But not today. Not even before they approach her. She has some self respect, damn them.

"I was nine," Bhairav begins in a whisper,"when my sister was murdered."

Gauri looks at him in shock, frozen. She expected a lot of things but not this. She turns completely towards him.

He doesn't glance at her when he continues,"My family wasn't the happiest but we made do. My mother...she left us. My father raised my sister and I to the best of his abilities, of course. We had a large age difference— ten years. My father died when I was seven and my sister later married her childhood friend. We made do."

Bhairav clears his throat and Gauri shifts, closer. Not touching him, for she knows what is proper, but she hopes her attention and silence provide him courage to continue, if he so wishes.

"I was out, gone with Katappa to learn sword fighting. My didi and jijaji did not like to fight but they supported me. They were sweet, non violent. When I came back, the door was broken down and they were lying dead, in their own house." He clenches his jaw and looks down at his feet. His hand plays with the black threat on his ankle. Gauri averts her eyes respectfully.

"They were killed, for money. My jijaji had earned good money for his pottery. They looted the house and killed them." Bhairav looks at her now. His eyes are smouldering and rimmed red. But his voice still breaks when he promises,"I will not see you dead as well, my princess."

Gauri nods. She understands what he means. He's always been one for a few words, but she's always felt what he feels.

He feels he failed his sister. He was devoted to her. His father was not the best but he tried and Bhairav respects that. His sister raised him. He loved her. He loved his brother-in-law too, felt indebted to him for letting Bhairav stay in his house. He never felt that he belonged in their house. It was theirs, not his. Now that it may be his, he hates it.

He thinks he failed his purpose, his devotion— he fears to fail another purpose, another dare she say it? devotion.

His anger is at her for risking herself but also at himself for obeying her.

She deliberately softens her voice,"And I will not have you hung because you levelled allegations against the Dowager King and the Rajpurohit, Bhairav. We needed witnesses, ones that could be unquestionable. Your life is my responsibility, your honour is my responsibility. I will not have you become a target. In return, I promise to do my level best to save myself from any dangers, but you must also always obey me in this capacity. Trust me."

Bhairav shakes his head and gives her a smile, fond and tired at the same time.

"Your honour is my honour, and your life is my life, my princess. And whether I like it or not, I am going to obey you for the rest of my life, my princess. Just never at the cost of your life. Never again."

Gauri smiles at him, tentatively, and teases,"We are at an impasse, then."

"How about I obey you and you only order me to save your life?" He asks with a charming grin.

They both know that either will stop at any cost to save the other.

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Tagging: @allizzprobablynotwell @alhad-si-simran @vijayasena @voidsteffy

[houseofbreadpakoda]

Naatpu-3

Ponniyin Selvan X Bahubali Crossover

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Vandiyathevan woke up with a jerk. A slight noise had alerted him. "It must be those pindaris, to hell with them" he cursed as he pulled out his sword from its sheath and slipped out of bed. He waited for a while for any other sounds when he heard it. "Nanba?"

Arase? At this hour? He sneaked upto the window where he heard Aditha from and threw it open.

Aditha jumped onto the sill he was hanging from and into the room as vandiyathevan quickly shut the window behind him. "My lord vanthiya, took you a great deal of time to hear me."

"Arase, why did you have to slip in through- are the pindaris waging a war?!" Aditha shaked his head in denial waving his hand as he caught for breath.

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Aditha sleekly slid under the bed before vandiyathevan could comprehend what was happening. He trotted towards the door still hazy at being subjected to so much so early into the day. He opened the door to see Devasena, who quickly barged into the room and shut the doors behind herself.

"Where's Aditha?" She sternly asked him, and before he could act clueless he saw Aditha slip out from under the bed and stand upto his full stature.

Vandiyathevan stepped back from infront of Aditha. Why was the Arase here at this hour? And why was Yuvarani here? Rather how had she come to know?

"Aditha are you out of your mind?" Devasena shrieked yet whispering every syllable.

"I mean-" Aditha said smirking at her making her throw a pillow at him. "You saw me from your anthapuram? Was I so loud?"

"You were pretty loud, I'm surprised our soldiers weren't alerted. All the training sessions, constant boar hunts, nothing can teach them to be alert. And then the pindaris attack and we lose a thousand of them. I can't-"

"Devasena...." Aditha said getting closer trying to calm her down. And Devasena got the cue. She exhaled relaxing her shoulders, looked back at Aditha trying hard to smile. "How are you? It's been a while."

"I'm very well!" Said Aditha grinning, "I've also heard that you've been doing really really well." Devasena scrunched her nose trying to figure out what Aditha was speaking about and her eyes widened when she realised. She glared back at vandiyathevan. He shook his head grinning. And then he saw her smile. He knew what the yuvarani was about to bring up. "Mhm, then I guess you would also know how vandiyathevan was doing."

"Ohhhhh Rightt. I completely forgot." Aditha said smiling at vandiyathevan bewildering him further. He quickly tried to change the topic.

"Arase you could've very well brought your troop and yourself through the main gates with a great degree of pomp. Why did you have to sneak in through-"

"Trust me Nanba my ego would've loved that, but entering the kingdom at this hour? That too unannounced? It wouldn't seem right. But I needed to talk to you after the message you'd sent me! So Parthiba and the rest stayed back in the tents at the outskirts of Kuntala. A post might reach the kingdom authorities in an hour or two about my arrival and then I can enter back with the rest of them tommorow morning."

So much, just to know about the yuvarani's love interest a few hours earlier. But again, this was Aditha. And the yuvarani in concern here was Devasena. Devasena had fallen for someone. And that had clearly gotten Aditha excited enough to ride down to Kuntala in a matter of less than nine hours. The poor horses.

For the next few hours, the three sat in Vandiyathevan's chambers speaking about everything they had piled up in their heads. Devasena spoke about the last boar hunt they went on which ultimately led to shivudu, making her fluster and the other two giggle. And just to make things light on Devasena, Aditha asked Vandiyathevan about how his spying mission was going on, which he himself led to Kundavai even though his nanba very evidently tried to avoid it. Both Devasena and Vandiyathevan knew better, than to bring up Nandhini, so they remained mum.

The sky had slowly begun to turn a lighter shade of blue, when both Aditha and Devasena realised it was time they sneaked back.

"Try not to get caught." Devasena told Aditha before opening the chamber doors. "I'll try. But you're soldiers are a little too good." Devasena tried to respond assuming Aditha was mocking her kingdom's army. "No seriously" Aditha responded "Your general found me sneaking in. But then he let me proceed after recognising me." Devasena sighed

"Devasena you're doing just fine, so is your army. Just.......just calm down. You're good. You're really really good. I'll see you in a few hours with my soldiers." He waved and smiled at Vandiyathevan before jumping out of the window.

"Get some sleep" Devasena said before leaving. "With Aditha here, today will be one long day, I can promise you that."

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I didn't think people would read this, but seeing people still write fics about rrr, bahubali and kgf, i couldn't help but churn all my thoughts into this story. So regardless of the number of notes this gets, you will get chapter after chapter on this crossover until I'm done with it thank yoooss!!!

Also HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Tagging: @vijayasena @yehsahihai @thelekhikawrites @willkatfanfromasia @celestesinsight @harinishivaa @whippersnappersbookworm @sambaridli everyone else, it's been a long time I've tagged anyone on my writing, I love you all <3<3<3

[knives-drawn]

Nothing. Just the Bahus straight up decapitating shit heads who try laying a finger on Devasena. That is all.

[ifitsagirlphebeifitsaboyphoebo]

Baahusena.. As in Deva as Baahu and Varadha as Devasena... But ofc..with a happy ending...

[salaarfanindia]

Ok, y'all, after watching bahubali for so many years .. it is surprising that no one ever found that bhallaldeva had a handcuffs and chains kink.. I mean bro chained her whenever he got a chance..... just saying 😌 🤷 😏

[bhalare-vichitram]

Y/n: Bhalla gave me a get better soon card.

Devasena: That's sweet!

Y/n: I wasn't sick. He just thought I could do better.

[mahi-wayy]

giffing bahubali purely for myself (4/?) | THE LAST ONE IS THE REASON OF MY DEATH.

[rambheem-is-real]

Realized I forgot to post it here but Bahubali as Vines Part 1 ✨