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mahi-wayy · 6 months ago

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𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 | ʙᴀʜᴜʙᴀʟɪ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ : A. Bahubali x Fem!OCs x B. Deva

ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ & ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ : Bahubali. @mayakimayahai @warnermeadowsgirl

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴs : Bahubali and Bhallaladeva being bros, chaos, alcohol consumption, seduction, implied smut and an open ending.

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ : 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 the prince duo of mahishmati encounter some beautiful mysterious women (Or) 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 catching saketa wasn't the first time Bhalladeva and Bahubali stepped in Singhpuram.

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

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“Can you explain why you are both a whole day late?”

Bahubali and Bhallaladeva were two of bravest and strongest men anyone can encounter but right now they both were just two sons obediently taking their mothers scolding like the good boys they were supposed to be.

Key word being supposed to, they have been both on assignment since past week. It was very simple: get in a disguise, tour the neighbouring areas and report back to their mother.

Simple right? yeah well you see they were supposed to arrive early mornings of yesterday but here they are arriving at dusk of today.

Bhalla can even feel his hair still wet from the hurried bath he has taken before joining his mother; his brother was a minute late.

“Answer me. Where were you?”

“Ma…”

Bahubali starts, his signature innocent look setting in his feature while Bhalla also lets the younger one take the lead.

“I swear we were planning on arriving yesterday but Bhalla was tired from the day.”

The said male clears his throat behind him and Bahu takes the hint immediately.

“I mean both of us were, so we took an overnight stay. It's not like we were running around with girls or something. We really were tired ma.”

Sivagami gives him an ‘I don't believe it’ look and Bahubali just makes an even more of a kicked puppy face, if possible.

“I know it was a lot more than just a simple overnight stay, something happened for sure otherwise there is no way you two would go straight to a bath instead of coming to me with your versions of an analysis.”

“Ma we were out for a week and-”

Bahubali shuts up immediately at the look he receives, he wasn't gonna fool her with this one.

“It's nothing ma, the place we stayed at had a bar and we both drank a bit and slept at the place close to the bar so we weren't exactly very fresh when we arrived. Not enough to present yourselves as princes of this empire.”

Bhalla swears he can feel the stars shooting from Bahu's eyes hitting him in the face but he doesn't let the mask crack as Sivagami remains ever so suspicious of them.

But before the next accusation came a guard interrupted them.

“Some women have came looking for the princes your majesty.”

The guard informs and it makes all three of them frown, women have come looking for them? Like it would have not been surprising if it was for Bahubali, the females following him had the same courage levels but Bhalladeva too? His type of girls weren't exactly good news but hey no judging, he just liked to play with danger.

Them mixing together won't end well. For anyone.

Sivagami gave them another nasty look before walking out, her gaze a clear order for them to follow her. It takes them less than five minutes to arrive where the females were.

The doors are pushed open in sync with the announcement of the three entering, Bhalla looks up to see the women only for his feet to freeze in place making his brother collide in his back before he peeked around him and spoke out before he even realised.

“Aarna?”

The first female turns, wearing a black blouse and wrapped in a red saree, hair open, eyes adorned with khol and jewellery decorating her figure as she waved at them.

“Kamini?”

Bhalla said making the second one stop fixing her hair and turn her head she was dressed in a much darker blue saree with a matching blouse, her khol and hair style matching with Aarna but wearing a lot of jewellery then the female.

“Greetings to the Mahishmati royalty.”

“Kaalika.”

Both the males said turning around simultaneously, to come face to face with a familiar blank eyes and perfect smile. Dressed in an all black look with dark leaning aura and minimal jewellery, her hair tied back.

“You know them?”

Sivagami's question doesn't receive answers as her son visibly experiences what she thinks to be flashbacks.

—----------------

“This will be a disaster.”

Bhalla was against the idea, staying the night in Singhpuram was literally an invitation for their mom to never let them hear the end of it and NOT in a good way.

“Can you please just calm down Bhalla, it's fine, we will make it till tomorrow morning chil.”

The older one just raised a brow.

“Okay fine afternoon, happy? I am not dropping the drinks for this, it's not like I feel like drinking very frequently anyways.”

With that he walks off to the drinks while Bhalla decides to just sit down and throw back his head and relax till his brother eventually passes out.

“Got a drink?”

He asked at the counter, the man turned around, gave him a once over and offered him a small glass. Interesting.

He knocks it off.

“A bigger one.”

The man looks him up and down again before another glass is offered bigger than the last one but that irritates him a little, so he knocks it off again.

“A little more? I'm a bit thirsty.”

The man offered him the whole jar this time and immediately pulled it back when he went to strike down too.

“You got the money?”

He pulls out the bag of coins, purposely moving it so the sound catches people's eyes before slamming it down.

The shop manager immediately went to take up the coins but stopped seeing the look on his face and stood back up, pulling at the rope revealing pots and pots of liquor.

“The drinks are on me.”

He shouts before picking up a bunch of marbles and throwing them towards the urban pots, breaking them easily and a shower of liquor was started.

All the men around him praise and thank him, he enjoys it, just a little. He does turn his head in his brother's direction only to receive a typical Bhalla being annoyed by Bahu look before the man covers his face with a cloth and goes back to trying to sleep.

“Sir…”

Bahubali turns his head when the man calling him taps his shoulder.

“...there is more than just liquor.”

And intrigues him even more, pushes the man out of his field on sight when a rope wrapped figure comes into view.

He drowns one of the glasses as the rope starts to unwrap and the first thing he sees are hand, soft gentle, jewellery clad three pairs of hands.

Next thing that comes into view are eyes, kohl lined, sharp and hypnotising, molten honey like three pairs of eyes.

The three girls all step put immediately and he gets only seconds to give them a once over. One was wearing a black blouse and deep maroon salwar with designs being in lighter shade of the same colour, one wore a blue blouse and yellowish and red salwar and the last one went with a grey blouse and black salwar with maroon design.

All wore silver jewellery with their hair tied up.

Hai Rat Mai Yeh Nasha Tera Tera

Dil Ko Tere Pyar Ne Ghera Ghera

It's starts of as dance between those three, a choreography that their bodies remembered well enough for it to be visible like this.

Hontho Se Hontho Pe Koi Nishani

Tu De Jaa De Jaa..

Mujh Se Hi Mujh Ko OOO Yaara Chura Ke

Tu Le jaa Le jaa..

He understands those gaze well enough, the raw desire and charm shining in them as the females trapped everyone around him into the beautiful illusion their dance was.

Manohari

The first one to approach him when he slides down from the shoulders of the men holding him up was the one in blue, climbing up like a tree while the one with grey gets a hold of his hand and he twirls her in order to get her closer.

Maan Le Ye Man Le Teri Ki Baaton Ne Kiya

Bin Piye Mujhey Sharabi Re

He lets himself nose at the length of her neck while also feelinv another nose nuzzle in his own neck and a pair of hand around his abdomen and that just makes him smile.

Tu Hi Kholey Saarein

Taalein Sun Le Jaaney Jaana

Tu Hi Mere Dil Ki Chaabi Re

Bahubali chuckles under his breathe when he's first pulled by the blue one, getting tugged by the grey one and ends up landing in black one's arms before all three back him up and crowding his personal space.

Pyaalein Ye Tan Ke Aa

Peelu Mai Jam ke

Tu Mera Mera

The girls pull him again and his time he lets himself flow, first trailing his cheek up the grey's arm, then being pushed gently for his face to come in contact with the blue one's back, only then to be pushed towards the black one. His frame sliding from her shoulder and stopping at her waist.

Hai Rat Mai Yeh Nasha Tera Tera

Dil Ko Tere Pyar Ne Ghera Ghera

They continue to fool around before the black one breaks away from the small group, her feet taking her towards a familiar figure which only makes Bahu smirk and turn back to the rest two girls.

Kya Baaju Hai Tere

Mujhko Inme Jeena

Bhalla's eyes snap open for two reasons, the song being sung too close to him and the person climbing him up.It's a woman, very beautiful one at that and was all over him.

Jo Jaadu Hai Tujh Mai

Hoga Wo Kahi Na

He gets up to move away, pushing that lady away gently but he immediately gets tugged back to fall in his previous seat. He is barely catches her expression before she's turning and free falling on him, her arms reaching behind her to touch whatever part of him he reached.

Tu Hai Sehera Jaisa Mujhey

Tujh Mai Hi Kho Jaana

Maira Tu Ho Na Ho

Mujhey Tera Hi Ho Jana

She turns again, her face inches away from him, their breathe mixing together as she slides her thump on his lip, her hands tugging his face forward.

Mazey Le Le aaaaa

Only to press a liquor glass against his lips and let him go, joining back her girls dancing in th centre of the place.

Manohari

Bahubali, while all this was happening, seems to have got a little more drunk and got the hold of the rope these three where originally wrapped in.

He swings it easily, taking off his hat, before throwing it aiming directly for the three waists he saw infront of him and succeeded while Bhalla drank on drink after another.

Pyar Ke Ye Teekhein Meethein

Teer Na Chala Re

Jaan Meri Jaan Maan jaa

The younger prince and the three dancers are wrapped in ropes, tightening them as close as humaly possible.

Pyaalein Ye Tan Ke Aa

Peelu Mai Jam ke

Tu Mera Mera

One pair of lips was tracing the base of his neck, another pair of lips is pressed against his pulse point and one pair of lips was trailing against his jaw before all of them are untangled with just one tug.

Hai Rat Mai Yeh Nasha Tera Tera

Dil Ko Tere Pyar Ne Ghera Ghera

Bhalladeva manages to catch two of them, the one with blue blouse and one with grey blouse, the one wil black one was wrapped around his brother.

It ends with the girls leanding them away from the crowd to a personal room, the one in black laying down on a bed first, followed up both the princes, the older one's lips coming to her neck and the younger ones teeth biting her kamarband and pulling in aside to pepper kisses.

The other joining them by pulling first the younger one away and having him shrug off his top while the other one takes it upon herself to get the older male free of his vest.

—----------------

“Bhalla!! Bahu!!”

Both the males come back to the present at their mother's booming voice.

“Where are you two lost? I asked how do you know them? Don't tell me you did some stupidity last night.”

They knew them yes, by face and lot of other things but seeing them here was beyond shocking.

They woke up in bed alone the following morning, cursing each other and the hangover headache with no signs of them. They would have forgotten them if not for that liquor shop owner to hand them a small note with their names scribbled on it and six rings.

That currently rested on three of each prince's fingers, feeling heavier than a bison.

While Bahu was having this monologue his brother decided to speak up.

“Ma, what are you saying!? Why would we ever?”

Bhalla was never more thankful for his gift of white lying like he was today.

“They are right your highness, we are just some dancers, they stayed at our place last night. Nothing more.”

Aarna answers and Bahu sees his end right infront of his eyes, with hands of his own mother. Wow.

“And by our place she means the place we practise, a old abandoned house in the small village not very far from the Mahishmati border. We usually don't let people stay like this because they mainly come from the bar nearby but they seemed tired and I recognized your elder son.”

Kaalika adds and Bahu almost falls from the relief, the lie was totally believable.

“Thank you for letting my sons a shelter but why have you come here?”

“They said you needed dancers for the court and some people to manage festivals.” Kamini speaks this time.

“We haven't been doing very well for some time now, all that you see on us now is the last of what we own, the nearby village kicked us out too. So we would be very greatful if Mahishmati can have some mercy on us.”

The way Aarna sounded almost had Bahu reach out for comfort if not for Bhalla knocking his hand off before it could rise properly.

Their mother seems to think for a while before answering.

“You three gave my sons shelter when they needed it so I will consider you however being a part of Mahishmati court in any form requires more than what meets the eye so you three have to prove your worth. For now you can stay in the extra quarters for the servants.”

The three females thank the older woman with joined hands and bowed hands before they walk out. The boys breathe a sigh of relief only for a shiver to run up their spines when Aarna and Kamini pass by them.

Aarna's hand trailing down Bhalla's back and Kamini's trailing up Bahu's as they walked past them. As for Kaalika she chooses to wink at them before turning and leaving with her girls.

Yeah they were totally screwed.

_____________

taglist : @warnermeadowsgirl @mayakimayahai @vijayasena

#bahubali fanfic #bahubali the beginning #bahubali #amrendra bahubali x oc #amrendra bahubali #bhalladeva #bhalladeva x oc #bahubali fic #requests #prabhas fanfic #rana daggubati fanfic #prabhas #rana daggubati

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nidhi-writes · 3 months ago

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CHAPTER - I | BEAST OUT OF HIM

MASTERLIST

The camp was alive with anticipation. Fires crackled, weapons were sharpened, and the warriors of Mahishmati prepared for the impending battle. The truth of Shivudu's lineage had sent shockwaves through the camp—he was Mahendra Baahubali, the true heir to the throne. For Shiya, this revelation had filled her with pride and determination. She had always known there was something special about her brother, but the weight of his destiny had taken even her by surprise.

Shiya, Sanga's daughter, was no trained warrior, but she was determined to stand with her brother and fight for the freedom of their people. She worked in silence, sharpening her arrows with precision. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions—loyalty, fear, and the burning need for justice. When she finished, she grabbed a jug and headed to the river to collect water for the journey.

The cool night air brushed against her skin, but it did little to calm her nerves. She was almost at the riverbank when something struck her from behind. Pain exploded in her head, and she crumpled to the ground, her vision darkening as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Shiya awoke in a cold, dark cell. The stone floor was damp beneath her, and a faint light filtered through a small barred window high above. She pushed herself up, wincing at the throbbing pain in her head. Panic set in as she realized her bow and arrows were gone, leaving her defenceless.

Her heart raced as she tried to piece together what had happened. She remembered the river, the sudden blow… and then nothing. Who had attacked her? Where was she?

Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor outside her cell, each step sending a jolt of fear through her. The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside, casting a long shadow in the dim light.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, his presence commanding and intimidating. Shiya squinted, trying to make out his features. Something about the way he held himself, the way the shadows played over his face, made her breath hitch. He seemed older, much older—perhaps even older than her father—but there was a dark, unsettling magnetism about him.

“Who are you?” she demanded, forcing her voice to remain steady.

The man chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “You don’t know who I am?” he asked a hint of amusement in his voice. “How intriguing. It’s been a long time since someone didn’t recognize me.”

Shiya frowned, confusion warring with the unease she felt. Something about his voice, his presence, made her pulse quicken in a way she didn’t want to acknowledge. She pushed the feeling aside, cursing herself for such thoughts. This man was her captor, a cruel figure in the shadows.

“I don’t care who you are,” she retorted, though her voice wavered slightly. “Let me go!”

He stepped closer, and Shiya instinctively backed away until her back pressed against the cold stone wall. Now that he was closer, she could see the hard lines of his face, the dark eyes that bore into her with unsettling intensity. His presence filled the small cell, suffocating and overwhelming.

“You should care,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, almost intimate whisper. “I am Bhallaladeva, the king of Mahishmati.”

Shiya’s breath caught in her throat. He is the one she heard from Kattappa, the tyrant who had brought Mahishmati to its knees, the one who killed Amerandra Baahubali, her brother's father. But standing so close to him, she couldn’t help but notice his sheer power. His broad shoulders and the dark, almost predatory glint in his eyes made her feel small and vulnerable in a way she had never felt before.

The thought sent a flush of heat through her, and she cursed herself silently. How could she feel anything but hatred for this man? How could she let herself be affected by him in any way?

“A true King would never have to announce himself as a King. And the one who does cannot be one. You are nothing but a cruel man who has brought so much pain to my people,” she managed to say, trying to focus on her anger, on the injustice that had been done.

Bhallaladeva’s smirk deepened, but there was something else in his gaze now—something almost like curiosity. “Your people?” he echoed mockingly. “You’re just a villager. You have no claim to Mahishmati.”

Shiya’s heart pounded in her chest, but she met his gaze with all the defiance she could muster. “My brother, Shivudu, has a claim. And I will fight for him, for our people.”

Bhallaladeva’s expression darkened, the amusement vanishing from his eyes. But she noticed a flicker of something else—was it a surprise? Intrigue? “Your brother is nothing,” he hissed, leaning in closer. “He may have the blood of Baahubali, but he will fall like the rest, Like his own bloody father, by my own hands.”

Shiya’s breath quickened as he drew nearer, his presence suffocating, yet… Something in his nearness made her heart race for reasons she didn’t want to admit. She shook her head, cursing herself for feeling anything other than hatred. This was Bhallaladeva, the man who had caused so much suffering, and she couldn’t allow herself to feel anything but hatred.

“We’ll see,” she whispered, her voice filled with resolve.

Bhallaladeva studied her for a long moment, his gaze searching her face. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held a darkness that sent another shiver through her. His eyes turned to her lips, her plump and round lips inviting him, and his body sure did react to the cute little bird before him. He smirked at her.

“You’re brave,” he said finally, almost as if he were admitting it begrudgingly. “But bravery won’t save you.”

With that, he turned and left, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving Shiya alone once more in the darkness. She was shaken, not just by the encounter but by her reactions. How could she have let herself be affected by him, even for a moment? She clenched her fists, forcing the unwelcome feelings aside.

She had to escape, warn her brother, and fight for their people. The shadow of Bhallaladeva loomed large, but Shiya vowed that she would not let it consume her. She would stand strong for Shivudu, Sanga, and Mahishmati.

And no matter what, she would never forget the kind of man Bhallaladeva was, or so that she promised herself.

***

Bhallaladeva sat on his throne, the weight of the crown heavy on his brow. Mahishmati had stood unchallenged for years, its power unrivalled, its king unbowed. He was waiting for his son Bhadra to return with that wretch Devasena, who got away with the help of some foolish boy.

One of his most loyal guards, Nandha, entered the throne room with sadness looming in his eyes. Bowing deeply, he awaited Bhallaladeva's acknowledgement before speaking.

"My King," Nandha began, his voice laced with sadness, "We have sad news: our Prince Bhadra has been beheaded" hearing this news, Bhallaldeva stood up with anger evident in his eyes.

"What are you saying? Who did it?" He is ready to have his way with the one who caused him and his son pain." Nandha explained everything that happened, bringing Bhallaldeva to his knees, and his father beside him was also angry about the news. But before Bhallaldeva ordered anything, Nandha interrupted as he revealed, "But we have captured something invaluable that will ensure our victory without a single drop of blood being shed."

Bhallaladeva's eyebrow arched in interest. The guard's confidence was intriguing. "Show me this prize you speak of," he commanded, rising from his throne. He wanted to see for himself what Nandha believed could be so valuable.

The guard led him through the palace's winding corridors and down into the cold, damp dungeons, where the crown's most dangerous enemies were kept. As they approached a particular cell, Nandha gestured towards it, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Inside, Bhallaladeva saw a young woman, no more than twenty years old, sprawled on the floor, her long hair fanned out around her like a dark halo. Despite the cell's dirt and grime, her youth and beauty were undeniable. Her face was peaceful in unconsciousness, but there was an undeniable strength in her features that caught his attention.

A smirk curled at the corner of Bhallaladeva’s lips as he turned to Nandha. "Explain."

Nandha straightened, eager to please. "My King, this girl is the sister of Shivudu—the very man who beheaded your son Bhadra. I overheard Kattappa's revelations to this boy—Shivudu is no other than Mahendra Baahubali, the son of your greatest enemy, Amarendra Baahubali."

Bhallaladeva’s eyes darkened with fury at the mention of Shivudu’s name. The wound of losing his son Bhadra was still fresh, and now, to learn that the one who killed him was Amarendra’s spawn filled him with a burning rage.

Nandha continued, sensing his master’s anger. "This girl was with the rebels, preparing to march against you. I seized the opportunity and captured her, knowing she would be the perfect leverage. With her in our grasp, Mahendra Baahubali will surrender without a fight."

Bhallaladeva’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. "You have done well, Nandha. Very well, indeed. Guard the gates, close off the kingdom. No one enters or leaves without my command. Let them come, let them try to breach Mahishmati. They will find nothing but death and despair."

Nandha bowed deeply, his chest swelling with pride at the king’s praise. "It shall be done, my King."

As Nandha left to carry out his orders, Bhallaladeva remained, his eyes fixed on the girl in the cell. The thought of using her as a pawn in his game brought him grim satisfaction. But something more about her stirred an emotion he couldn’t quite place.

Hours passed, and word reached Bhallaladeva that the girl was beginning to wake. He wasted no time returning to the dungeons, eager to see how this little bird would react when she realized who held her captive.

As he entered the cell, he saw her stirring, her eyes fluttering open. She pushed herself up slowly, disoriented, and Bhallaladeva watched with a dark, silent amusement as she took in her surroundings.

When she finally looked up and met his gaze, he saw the confusion in her eyes, the way she didn’t immediately recognize him. That made him pause, an unfamiliar feeling creeping over him—was it... shyness? He dismissed it quickly, but not before the thought had planted in his mind.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice steady despite the fear he knew she must be feeling.

Bhallaladeva chuckled, the sound reverberating through the small cell. “You don’t know who I am?” he replied, stepping closer, towering over her. “How intriguing. It’s been a long time since someone didn’t recognize me.”

She frowned, a flicker of defiance in her gaze that only intrigued him more. He had expected terror and submission, but this girl… was different. There was strength in her that drew him in despite the circumstances. He could feel his heartbeat quicken—a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Let me go!” she demanded, though he could hear the tremor in her voice.

He leaned in, his eyes locking with hers, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You should care who I am,” he said, a sinister edge to his tone. “I am Bhallaladeva, the king of Mahishmati.”

He watched as her eyes widened in realization, fear finally creeping into her expression. But along with that fear, there was something else—something in how she looked at him that made his chest tighten. Was it… attraction? The idea was absurd, yet he couldn’t deny how his blood heated under her gaze.

Despite himself, Bhallaladeva felt a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in years—an awareness of his power, not just as a ruler, but as a man. The thought made him smirk, but it also unsettled him. This girl was his prisoner, a tool to be used against his enemies. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by anything else.

But as he turned to leave, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was different from anyone he had ever encountered. She wasn’t just a pawn but a challenge he couldn’t wait to unravel.

For now, he would let her stew in her fear and uncertainty. But soon, he would return. And when he did, he would ensure that she understood exactly who held her life—and her brother's fate—in his hands.

Bhallaladeva left the cell, his mind racing with thoughts of the battle ahead and of the girl who had, for a fleeting moment, made him feel something other than the cold, unyielding rage that had defined him for so long. But whatever that feeling was, it would not deter him from his purpose.

Mahendra Baahubali would come for his sister. And when he did, Bhallaladeva would be ready.

The sun hung low in the sky as Mahendra Baahubali, Devasena, Kattappa, Avantika, and their loyal followers marched towards Mahishmati. Devasena carried the severed head of Bhadra, her face set in grim determination. The image of vengeance incarnate, she was ready to end the tyranny of Bhallaladeva once and for all. Mahendra, walking beside her, was the very image of his father, Amarendra Baahubali, the legendary warrior who had once protected these lands.

As they approached the gates of Mahishmati, Mahendra’s likeness to his father was undeniable—his strength, resolve, and gait mirrored the great Amarendra. Bhallaladeva, watching from the high walls of his palace, felt a shiver of unease. It was as if a ghost from his past was marching towards him, ready to exact retribution.

But that moment of unease quickly faded as Bhallaladeva’s lips curled into a dark, twisted smile. He had a card to play, one that would shatter the resolve of this army of rebels. He turned to his guard, his voice a low, commanding growl. “Bring the little bird here.”

A short while later, the heavy iron doors of the palace creaked open, and Shiya was dragged out, her hands and feet bound in heavy chains. Her once vibrant eyes now reflected fear and defiance as she was forced to the front of the balcony where Bhallaladeva stood. He reached out, gripping her long, dark hair, and yanked her forward, ensuring she was visible to those below.

The rebels came to an abrupt halt. Their eyes widened as they recognized Shiya, Mahendra Baahubali's sister, bound and at the mercy of their enemy. Devasena’s heart clenched, her warrior’s facade faltering momentarily as she saw the young woman in such a vulnerable state. Mahendra’s hands curled into fists, his anger seething beneath his calm exterior.

Bhallaladeva’s smirk widened as he leaned down, his face close to Shiya’s. The scent of her hair filled his senses, and he revelled in the power he held over her—and, by extension, over the army below. He nuzzled his nose against her hair, feeling the involuntary shiver that ran through her body. Despite her defiance, he could sense her fear and something else—something she was desperately trying to suppress.

Shiya cursed herself inwardly for the way her body reacted to his touch. This man was a monster, cruel and ruthless, and yet his proximity ignited a confusing mix of emotions within her. She bit her lip to stifle a gasp as his teeth grazed the delicate skin near her ear. Bhallaladeva smiled wickedly, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"Take another step," Bhallaladeva’s voice boomed across the battlefield, "and you’ll be collecting your precious Shiya’s lifeless body." He tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head back slightly to expose her neck, a silent threat that chilled the blood of those watching.

The rebels stood frozen, their plan in tatters. Mahendra and Kattappa exchanged glances, the need for a new strategy clear. They couldn’t risk Shiya’s life, not when she was so vulnerable. This wasn’t just a battle of swords and strength—it was a battle of wills, and Bhallaladeva was forcing their hand.

Satisfied with their hesitation, Bhallaladeva pushed Shiya back towards the palace's interior. His hand found its way to her neck, his grip firm as he forced her to follow him inside. Shiya stumbled slightly, her heart pounding with fear and confusion. Her mind raced, searching for a way to escape and warn her brother, but Bhallaladeva’s hold was relentless.

As they disappeared from view, Bhallaladeva’s mind buzzed with the thrill of his victory. The look of terror in the eyes of his enemies was intoxicating, but the woman at his side—this unexpected and intriguing little bird—added a new dimension to his triumph.

Mahendra and the others watched helplessly as the palace doors closed behind them. The sight of Shiya in chains, at the mercy of Bhallaladeva, left a bitter taste in their mouths. They couldn’t afford to lose her but couldn’t rush in blindly.

"We need a new plan," Kattappa murmured, his voice heavy with the weight of their situation.

Mahendra nodded, his mind already racing through possibilities. They had come so far, but now faced a ruthless and cunning enemy. Bhallaladeva had shown them that this battle would not be won by strength alone.

But one thing was sure—Mahendra would not rest until his sister was safe and Bhallaladeva’s reign of terror was ended. No matter the cost.

***

Inside the palace, Bhallaladeva led Shiya deeper into the labyrinth of halls, his grip never loosening. Shiya’s heart pounded as she tried to steel herself against her overwhelming situation. She couldn’t afford to show weakness—not to him or the man who held her fate.

But as she walked, she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, how his presence filled the space around her, and it took everything to keep her composure.

Bhallaladeva’s mind was already working on how to use this situation to his advantage. The little bird at his side was more than just a captive—she was a weapon he intended to wield with precision. And perhaps, along the way, he would find out just how much power he held over her.

For now, though, he would savour the victory he had already claimed. The rebels were at his mercy, and with Shiya as his leverage, Mahishmati would remain unchallenged, its throne unshaken.

But in the back of his mind, the image of Mahendra Baahubali haunted him—a reminder that the ghost of Amarendra was still alive, and this war was far from over.

And as for Shiya, he couldn’t help but wonder—how long before she would break under the weight of his will? Or perhaps, just perhaps, would she be the one to challenge him in ways he had never anticipated?

Only time will tell.

***

After being pulled away from the balcony where Bhallaladeva had held her in his grip, Shiya was led back into the palace. But instead of returning to the cold, dark cell she had been thrown into earlier, she was taken to a lavish chamber. The sudden change in her surroundings caught her off guard—how could her circumstances shift so drastically in such a short period?

The chamber was adorned with luxurious silks and rich items, starkly contrasting to the grim cell she had been kept before. Before she could process the situation, an elderly woman with a kind smile entered the room.

"I am Bangara Amma," the woman introduced herself, her voice soft and soothing. "I’ve been instructed to take care of you."

Shiya narrowed her eyes, suspicion immediately rising. How could one man, Bhallaladeva, be so mercurial? One moment, he was a predator, lurking too close, making her feel things she loathed herself for, and the next, he seemed to want to treat her like some cherished possession.

Bangara Amma guided her to the bathhouse connected to the chamber. Shiya reluctantly followed, her mind racing with thoughts of escape. As she was bathed and dressed in luxurious silks that clung to her skin, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being a prisoner in golden chains. The richness of the attire did nothing to ease her discomfort; it only heightened her awareness of the strange, twisted game Bhallaladeva was playing.

Left alone in the chamber again, Shiya immediately began searching for a way out. The walls were thick, the windows high and unyielding, but as she scanned the floor, something caught her eye—a sharp nail, probably left behind by accident. She quickly grabbed it and hid it in her hair, a reassuring weapon in the face of her helplessness.

She moved to the balcony, briefly considering the idea of escaping by climbing down. But the height was dizzying, and she realized with a sinking feeling that it was impossible—there was no way to scale down with just a saree. Before she could think of another plan, footsteps echoed through the chamber. She stiffened, knowing exactly who it was.

She faced the outside, trying to ignore the growing tension in her body as Bhallaladeva’s presence loomed behind her. She could feel the heat of his body even before he spoke.

"Not planning to jump, are we?" Bhallaladeva’s voice was laced with amusement as he chuckled softly.

Shiya kept her eyes fixed on the view, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. "What if I did?" she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

Bhallaladeva laughed, a deep, resonant sound that sent a shiver down her spine. He stepped closer until she could feel his breath on her neck, the proximity suffocating and intoxicating all at once. He was so close that the warmth of his body seemed to seep into hers, a sensation that made her knees weak. To her shame, a faint moan escaped her lips, but thankfully, it was too soft for him to hear.

"Well, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to my little bird, now would we?" he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice sending a jolt through her entire being. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as she swallowed hard to maintain her composure.

"Why do you care?" Shiya managed to ask, turning her head slightly to look at him, though she regretted it immediately. His gaze was intense, almost predatory, and yet there was something else—something that made her pulse race even faster.

Bhallaladeva smirked, clearly enjoying her defiance. Despite the tremor in her voice, he could see that she was trying to stand her ground. His little bird was brave, even in her fear.

Without warning, he reached out, his hand wrapping lightly around her throat. He pulled her back against him, her body now fully pressed against his. Shiya gasped at the contact, the heat of his body radiating through the thin fabric of her saree, making her breath hitch.

His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path from her throat to her lips, the touch sending a shockwave of unwanted desire through her. Shiya’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the railing, her body betraying her mind’s refusal to acknowledge his effect on her.

"I care for what is mine," Bhallaladeva whispered, his voice dark and possessive. "And my little bird, everything that ventures into my kingdom belongs to me. That includes you."

Just as he loomed above her, merely away from her lips as his breath covered her face, causing her to tremble inside, a part of her wanted his lips on her and wanted to taste him and have his way with her.

With that, he released her, stepping back as if nothing had happened. But Shiya was left trembling, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Her mind was a whirl of confusion and fear, her innocence tarnished by the dangerous man who now claimed her as his own.

As Bhallaladeva left the chamber, Shiya collapsed against the balcony railing, her heart pounding. What had she become in this short span of time? A prisoner? A pawn? Or something more twisted—something she didn’t even want to think about?

But what scares her is that her body and mind are trying to betray herself and others to be with him and have what she craves. HIM

_______________________________________

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