Chapter Text
It was over. They had lost any chance of winning the war.
There was no way they could possibly win after this. Every single Pandava was alive. Drishtadyumna, Shikhandi, Satyaki were alive. All of Draupadi's sons were alive. And of course, she thought, her heart clenching, Yuyutsu. Even a few other warriors like Prince Chekitana and two of the Kekaya brothers were still alive.
All they had was Duryodhan, Mama Shakuni and his son Uluka, Kritavarma, Madraraj Shalya and his son Rukmaratha, King Kshemakirti, Trigarta kumar Satyakarman, Ashwathama and gods save him, Vrishaketu.
Everyone else, everyone else was dead.
Yes, they had far more horses and foot soldiers than the Pandava army still, but those were not going to win them this war!
Bhanumati sat listlessly in her and Duryodhan's tent. He didn't look much better than her, barely even paying attention as Kritavarma, Kulguru Kripacharya, Mama Shakuni and Madraraj Shalya attempted to go over the next day's strategy.
What strategy? What--what was the point of anything?!
Ashwathama sat in a corner of their tent, head bowed, eyes terrifyingly dark. Bhanumati did not want to look at him. He looked like someone else altogether.
Usually, any kind of discussion about battle would take place in the Command tent, but nobody had the courage to ask Duryodhan to get up from his place now.
Finally Kulguru Kripacharya dared to ask who would be the Commander-in-Chief in the next day's battle.
Duryodhan just stared ahead hollowly.
"Not like there's much of an army to lead anyway."
"But you must appoint one anyway, child." Mama Shakuni said, uncharacteristically gentle. The man had lost the ever present shrewdness in his eyes. It seemed that everyone knew that the end was near.
So why were they still fighting?!
Bhanumati wanted to scream. They were all just throwing their lives away for no reason now. Her husband was throwing his life away.
Duryodhan's eyes wandered over to Ashwathama.
"How about you, old friend? Would you lead the army?"
Ashwathama shook his head.
"I would not be the right person. I would not be able to focus on leading the army. All I care for is seeing the Pandavas destroyed."
Yes of course he had said that before, but still. Hearing that from the man who had been the most level headed of all of her husband's companions was.... Well. The War had changed everyone.
Duryodhan simply looked at the rest of the warriors.
"How about you, Madraraj?"
"Me?!" The man exclaimed, sounding genuinely shocked.
Bhanumati would have been surprised as well, had she any energy left to feel that way.
"Despite your reluctance to do so, you were the best charioteer for my beloved Radheya that you could be. And despite us recruiting you to our side via some measure of trickery, you have fought for us loyally. Thus, I offer you the position of Commander in Chief for what remains of our army tomorrow, though it is hardly that glorious a position anymore."
Madraraj didn't meet Duryodhan's eyes for several moments, before looking up and nodding.
Bhanumati got up and left the tent, not wanting to hear any more planning for the next morning despite her desire to stay as close to her husband as possible.
As she started to walk towards Vrushali Di's tent however, she noticed the commotion outside the tent newly assigned to Mata Gandhari.
She changed her direction. Much to her confusion, the dasis seemed to have been instructed to gather specific ingredients for a ritual bath.
"Mata Gandhari?" Bhanumati asked, ducking into the tent. The old woman was sat in a meditative posture, reading her Rudrakhsh beads. She had not spoken to anyone since the day's battle had ended and the news about Bhrata Karna had arrived. Bhanumati did not even know how she felt, what she thought about the whole thing. She knew she had gone numb.
"May I ask what exactly you have asked the dasis to do?"
The woman turned her face towards Bhanumati.
"I am making preparations to ensure my eldest son at least, stays alive."
Bhanumati blinked dumbly, before remembering what the woman had said that morning.
"But... what.. what can you do?" She asked, not daring to let herself hope.
Mata Gandhari sighed.
"Maharishi Ved Vyas came to visit us at Hastinapur's palace. I begged him to help me save my sons. He said that I could save one. With the power of my years of sacrifice and tapasya."
Bhanumati stared at her. At the blindfold covering her eyes. Her years of sacrificing her sight to see the world as her husband did.
(Bhanumati wished so immensely she hadn't done so. Maybe if Duryodhan and Dussashan had had to meet their mother's eyes and answer to her, they would have have felt greater shame at doing to another woman what they had.)
"You're... you are going to take off your blindfold?" She whispered. "You are going to look at Duryodhan?"
It was an unheard thing. Mata Gandhari's blindfold was only taken off to be replaced be a fresh one after bath each day and she kept her eyes tightly shut even then.
"I will." She agreed. Her face was both morose and desperate. "After his council with... what remains of the army commanders, ask him to take a dip in the ritual waters being prepared and then come to me as naked as the day he was born. Alone. I will make his body unbreakable by any weapon, divine or not."
"I--" Bhanumati did not know what to say. This... This could be a chance that Duryodhan actually made it out of this war alive. She... she could have at least one man she loved, alive.
(They would not win the war anyway, because there was nothing worth winning anymore when everyone to share the victory with was gone, but.. but perhaps... perhaps... after she had lost everything in this war, she could have at least this.)
She stepped out of the tent, almost in a trance.
It was... it was unbelievable.
Was it the most fair thing, that her innocent son and innocent nephews who had had no fault or her brother who had only fought to support her family were gone and that her husband, who was a major cause of this war got another chance?
No, it wasn't.
But if it meant she could keep one person alive, she couldn't care less. (She couldn't, she couldn't bring them back, she couldn't even let herself think too deeply about them or she wouldn't even be able to move. ) Bhanumati walked into their tent at the tail end of the meeting and stood thrumming with anxiety and restlessness, waiting for the other men to leave.
Any words spoken seemed to flow over her head, unheard.
Ashwathama and Mama Shakuni lingered behind to talk to Duryodhan after the rest had left, or rather talk at him, given that Duryodhan had gone back to staring into the distance. The former still had that unusually dark look in his eyes. Bhanumati decided she couldn't wait any longer.
"Duryodhan." She called, walking to him.
All three men turned to look at her.
"Mata Gandhari has called you to her tent ," She began tremulously. "She thinks she has a way to... protect you in tomorrow's battle. Maharshi Ved Vyas all but confirmed it."
The silence was broken by Mama Shakuni.
"What do you mean, putri?"
Duryodhan was not looking at her. He continued to stare into the distance.
"Mata Gandhari has made an enormous sacrifice her entire life, by hiding away her eyes. She believes that she could make Duryodhan's body impervious to any weapon or attacks if only... if only she were to look upon him."
There was a sharp gasp from Mama Shakuni and Duryodhan's head suddenly snapped towards her.
"Look at me...?" Duryodhan said, almost wondrously. "See me, you mean? Without her blindfold?"
Bhanumati nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat.
"There is a ritual bath prepared for you. You must take a dip in it and approach her the way you were the day you were born. There will be no maids or soldiers around." She added. "You will be given privacy."
Duryodhan abruptly got up form his seat.
"I must go." He announced.
Ashwathama gripped his shoulder.
"This is good news, my friend."
Duryodhan merely grunted.
"I will see you after this, nephew." Mama Shakuni said, before following Ashwathama out of the tent.
Duryodhan's shoulders slumped.
"She should have mentioned this before." He whispered.
Bhanumati stepped to him and grasped his face in her hands.
"She should have. But what difference would it have made?"
Duryodhan scoffed.
"I have lived this long. My brothers have not. I would have had her offer this boon to Dushasan. Or perhaps even Vikarna. Gods know he was pure enough to deserve it."
And they said, that Duryodhan could not love.
Bhanumati's heart broke. This was the man she had fallen in love with. This was a glimpse of him, the man who loved so deeply. This man who had wronged his own family so viciously, who was so bitter and envious, but who could love more than anyone else as well.
She didn't have anything to say. She couldn't.
"Come with me." Duryodhan said, extending a hand to her.
"Mata Gandhari said you must go alone. I don't... I don't want there to be any difficulties with the ritual, so I suppose... we should follow her instructions."
Duryodhan exhaled, nodding, and left the tent without another word.
Bhanumati sunk down on the cushions in the sitting area.
Nothing seemed real anymore.
All her family was dead? Almost all of it? Duryodhan could be alive? How much difference would it make?
She sat there for who knew how long before a dasi peered into the tent nervously.
Bhanumati blinked, and looked up, shaking herself out of her stupor.
"What?" She asked sharply, not at all liking the expression on the girl's face.
"Yuvrani, there has been.... some trouble with the ritual it seems... Maharani Gandhari seems distraught."
Bhanumati paled and rushed past the girl and ran to Mata Gandhari's tent. Already she could hear voices from inside.
Gods, let nothing have happened to Duryodhan before the final day's battle had even started!
Then again, she thought bitterly, it is not as if the Gods will listen to my prayers, will they?
They'd likely make sure that the exact opposite happened.
Bhanumati burst into the tent.
Mata Gandhari had her eyes closed but the blindfold wasn't back around her eyes yet. It felt distinctly odd to see her without it. She had tears streaming down her face. Mama Shakuni was there, looking enraged.
And her Duryodhan... he sat on the floor, looking simultaneously mutinous and of all things, mildly amused.
It was the first time in days that she had seen such a look on his face.
(And oh, it had only been days since the battle had begun! Just days, for her family to be destroyed, for Aryavarta to be destroyed! It seemed as if she had been grieving for years already.)
And then she saw that there were .... banana leaves tied just below his hips, preserving his modesty and covering the top of his thighs.
"Weren't you supposed to be--"
"Completely naked? Yes, he was!" Mama Shakuni gritted out. "But apparently, despite every. Single. Thing. That has happened so far, my dear nephew allowed himself to listen to that thrice-damned cowherd and covered up his hips, because apparently, it is not right, for a grown man to appear in front of his mother completely immodest."
Bhanumati stared at him, stunned beyond belief.
Duryodhan met her eyes steadily.
"In a mace fight, it is against the rules to hit your opponent below the waist. It does not matter whether my thighs are unbreakable or not."
She could not take it anymore. She could not even argue. She had no fight left in her.
She just broke down into heaving sobs and crumpled to the ground.
"Bhanu--" Duryodhan kneeled next to her but she cut him off.
"I should have come with you!" She cried. "I should have come with you when you asked me to. At least then I could have prevented you from foolishly listening to Vasudev Krishna!"
How did that man even enter our camp unnoticed, she wondered wildly for a moment, before remembering exactly who he was and all the things he had done.
"Bhanumati, I have been blessed by my mother--"
"You have been foolish!" Mata Gandhari choked out, her blindfold retied. "Have they set a great example about following the rules of war so far, that you expect them to do so now?"
"One would think that you would have learned better after what they did to your Pitamaha, your Gurudev, at the very least your friend--" Mama Shakuni started.
Duryodhan got up and left the tent, not bothering to clothe himself any further.
Bhanumati could not stand the resounding silence and followed him to their tent.
"Are you going to inform me in even greater detail, how foolish I've been?" Duryodhan asked, from where had thrown himself on their bed.
Bhanumati took a deep breath and did not answer. She was constantly aware in the back of her mind that despite Duryodhan's chances of survival having increased exponentially, there was still a chance that he might still--
She could not even bear to think of all the other deaths. It had only been a few days. And she felt as though if she tried to process them right now... she would not be able to be human anymore.
(But she had to come to terms with it. She had to. Somehow. Without breaking completely. Or else, how would she survive?)
She had, under normal circumstances, spent longer in the absence of each of her beloved men that she had lost forever, than time had passed since she had lost them.
She did not want to prepare herself beforehand for any death. But...
Bhrata Karna had died hours ago. Without him...
If... if the unthinkable were to come to pass...she could not break. She would not break. She still had to take care of Vrushali di. All her younger sisters in law would look to her in their grief. She had to... she did not know what to do, but she had to be able to function.
She had to... She had to prepare herself. The scenario was not exactly farfetched.
(This might be the last night she got to spend with her husband.)
Bhanumati placed a hand on Duryodhan's arm and squeezed. The skin and flesh pressed down beneath her touch like they always did.
"You don't seem any more invulnerable than usual."
Duryodhan looked at her for a moment before sitting up, drawing a dagger from it's sheath at his waist and bringing it down hard against his stomach.
Bhanumati gasped and her hand automatically shot out to stop it, one of her fingers catching the edge of the blade.
But as Duryodhan hissed over her tiny cut, taking her hand in his and pressing a bit of spare cloth against it, she saw what he had meant for her to see.
Not only was there no injury on his stomach, the tip of the blade had bent out of shape.
The only blood spilled was hers.
"Why would I be invulnerable against you, Bhanu? You did not try to hurt me."
She looked into his eyes. He did not look afraid about the next morning. He did not seem wild with grief or rage either, as he had earlier in the evening after learning the the truth about Bhrata Karna. He seemed... settled.
She had never seen him look that way since before the Rajsuya Yagna that started everything.
"You are certain of your victory tomorrow, then?" She asked.
"Should I not be?" Duryodhan said, wryly. "I am better than Bheem at mace fighting and now I am invulnerable to his strength as well. Except my thighs, but that should not matter in mace fighting."
He did not sound triumphant, however.
She said as much.
Duryodhan laughed harshly.
"What is there to be triumphant about? If I win against the Pandavas, I will be thankful that they lost, but what else is there to be happy about?"
And of course, she had thought this for a long time but hearing it from Duryodhan's mouth? The fact that he would even say such a thing?
Before she could say anything else, Duryodhan took her face in his hands.
"I do not wish to speak of this any further. Of any of this. I wish to spend the next few hours with you and then the remainder of the time till sunrise with Mata Gandhari, Mamashree, Mitra Ashwathama, Chandramukhi, Vrushali Di and Vrishaketu."
He kissed her then.
The foreboding feeling that overtook her as he pulled her braid loose, burying one hand in her hair and wrapping the other around her waist, was a familiar enemy. She was not exactly surprised by it's presence anymore.
By now, Bhanumati had learned better than to expect anything but the worst.
And they would not stop fighting even now.
So she thought about how no matter what happened the next day, she would have to hold Vrushali Di up and how she would have to inspire her sisters in law to keep living. How she would have to inspire herself to keep living.
(But she still hoped for a different outcome. No matter how futile it might be, no matter how much she had to prepare herself. She hoped that Duryodhan could hold her again after the next sunset.)
And she clutched her husband and kissed him as desperately as he kissed her.