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English
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Published:
2025-07-31
Updated:
2025-08-02
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2,791
Chapters:
2/?
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Staked

Summary:

"I stake.... my son, Prativindhya."

The hall fell silent.

Notes:

Chapter 1: Prativindhya- 1

Chapter Text

Prativindhya sat on the bed, looking down at the floor and twiddling his thumbs. He could smell mother cooking something, the pots clanging as she worked. She was angry. She was right to be angry, but Prativindhya was so, so, tired of all the anger in the air. But it was needed. The anger was needed. He tried to beat some anger out of himself, but all that came out was apathy. He was tired. He was so, so tired. He wanted the noise to stop. He wanted to cry, he wished he could cry, but it felt like all his tears were spent. He felt like a failure, and he and his mother couldn’t even look at each other's injured bodies and shattered expressions. Sometimes he buried his head in his knees, hoping the tears would come, but they didn't. He used to love playing rough, he used to thrive off of physical contact but he can't stand the thought of anyone touching him right now. 

 

Father was mumbling prayers, engrossed in his meditation. It was his usual routine these days. 

 

But what god could save him with how far he had fallen? 

 

He used to love how calm his father was. Right now? He hated it. 

 

How could he remain so calm when he had single-handedly ruined all of their lives, how could he remain so- so sanctimonious and preachy and talk to HIM of all people about how anger should be managed. 

 

Strange how he didn’t hear any words of advice or motivation when he was getting beaten up by 3 men- no, monsters- until he passed out from how much it hurt. It still hurt sometimes. 

 

Clink. Clink. Armour. 

 

Someone was here. Prativindhya tried to make out how many people were here, tried to think through the pain. Four . Four people. He stood up gingerly, walking to the little partition which separated him from the main hut. 

 

It was his uncles. Dressed like they were going to battle. 

 

Vindhya gripped the pillar that held up the hut so tight that his fingers turned white. What were they doing? Whose idea was it to use the thirteen-day loophole? Hmm, definitely not nakul kaka or deva kaka, their genius brains usually left them when father opened his mouth. Honestly, he felt quite sad for Nakul kaka. He shone in his discussions with his ministers, his debates with the scholars, was even skilled enough to mentor Udit dada, but in front of father? His wits seemed to evaporate into thin air every time father opened his mouth. It was like he forgot he was an adult. 

 

“Let’s go,” A hard, deep voice interrupted his thoughts. Bheem kaka. 

 

“Go where, Bheem?” Father asked with that grating, annoying calm voice. 

 

“To attack Hastinapur, of course!” Bheem kaka replied. 

 

“Yes!” 

 

“B- but why?” Father seemed genuinely curious, and that was what ticked Vindhya off the most. He genuinely didn’t want to declare war yet. If he was more hopeful, if he was still the boy who looked at reflections on the ceilings and called them fireflies, he’d reason it was because he wanted him to heal . To get better, and then fight. Even if not for the kingdom, then for self respect. For his self esteem. For mother’s honour. But that boy was dead, and the man standing just out of sight behind the wooden partition of the hut right now held no delusions. 

 

Prativindhya simply sighed. He understood exactly why people wanted his father to be the king. It was because he was an unambitious lump with no desire for the throne. The lack of ambition would make him do a good job, they said. He wanted to punch their teeth out. 

 

“I cannot bear to see Panchali’s hair like this- unbraided, a symbol of our humiliation!” 

 

“Even I cannot bear to see her hair like this, Bheem. But this doesn’t mean that you become the judge, jury, and executioner for Duryodhan,” Again, again, the flawed, flawed reasoning. Vindhya felt sick, and bitter, and helpless , and it was the worst he’d felt since that day. “And-” Prativindhya rolled his eyes. “ I was the one who staked you all…” father trailed off, his gaze turning to the partition behind which Vindhya was standing. “I am the reason for her humiliation,” 



For the first time, father was speaking sense. 

 

“And? Have we even tried to avenge her?” Parth kaka said, his voice shaking with anguish.

 

“We are supposed to be in exile for twelve years, and then live incognito for one. Have you forgotten that?” 

 

Well, let it be known that Vindhya was a generally optimistic person and had pretty high hopes. Here they went again. 

 

“Those thirteen years are over today!” Bheem kaka boomed. Despite himself, Vindhya flinched. He hated that he couldn’t face Bheem kaka these days. Just the other day, his mere shadow had made vindhya panic and hide under the bed, thinking he was there , again. Thinking he was going to get beaten within an inch of his life as he tried to stop those monsters from coming near his mother. “There is a provision- Under special circum-” 

 

Focus, you idiot, focus, he told himself. 

 

“No,” Father said. “The scriptures, they are for our guidance, not our convenience, Bheem,” And there he went again, speaking to someone almost as old as him in the tone one would use with a child. “The cases you cite have happened before, but they are for special occasions. When I agreed to play, there was no ambiguity regarding what thirteen years meant.” 

 

“Your brother is right!” another voice said. Vindhya peeked out from between the straw. Mother? Agreeing? This didn’t sound- “The scriptures must never be violated, except during special occasions! Occasions like…. A game of dice, for example, where a husband’s rights over his wife, where a father’s rights toward his son-” Vindhya felt her looking straight at him. Mother always did that. When defending someone, she didn’t look at her opponent, but rather at who she was defending. Her gaze seemed to peer into his soul. “May be expanded such that… he can treat his wife and child like cattle and stake them.” 

 

Her voice was sharp like the blade of a sword. Vindhya felt a little warmer. A little safer. 

 

“Therefore, I find it best to not argue with your brother about ethics. Learn to bear everything in silence. I’ve been doing it my whole life, maybe you should give it a try too,”

 

Father’s face fell. 

 

Vindhya smirked. 

 

“Sahadev, I think someone is coming- go see who it is, will you?”

 

“Dada- this is the unmistakable sound of an army! I keep telling you-” 

 

“You do not know Mamashri Shakuni, my dear,” Father began. “Why would he want to attack us now? He is simply waiting for the year of our anonymity- when he can catch us and send us back to the forest for twelve more years. And if this army was going to attack us, why have the chariots stopped a little distance away from the hut? This is the army of an ally.” 

 

 “And? Is there anyone left whom we can call an ally now?” Parth kaka countered. 

 

But he knew that voice. He knew those footsteps. He straightened up instinctively. Mama. 

 

He walked in like he owned the place, bowed to father, and then narrowed his eyes to look at everyone in the hut. 

 

Mother rushed forward, stopping just short of him, and stared, her mouth open. Almost as if she believed that no one would come. He caressed her face, his hands on her cheeks, turning her head this way and that, inspecting for bruises. 

 

“Drishu,” She exhaled. “You didn’t bring anyone else? Dada? Shalaka vahini? Sha-”

 

Father interrupted her. 

 

“Come in, Yuvraj, sit down,” 

 

“I am not here to sit,” Mama said through gritted teeth. Mother flinched. Prativindhya’s blood boiled. He should have known . 

 

“What? What do you mean?” Parth kaka asked. 

 

“Yes. I mean that my father hasn’t ordered me to sit down and chat! I have been ordered to tell you all that the army of Panchal is ready to stand by you, to fight under your flag, and bring you victory. Well, since four of you are already ready, should we proceed?” 

 

Father rested a hand on mama’s shoulder. Vindhya shuddered with the weight of memories and second-hand condescension. 

 

“If we wanted a war right now, the five of us could have taken on Hastinapur by ourselves- and won. But I do not desire a war right now.”

 

That seemed to piss mama off. 

 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DO NOT DESIRE WAR? DOES THIS SUIT THE MAN WHO WAS LITERALLY A CHAKRAVARTIN SAMRAT UNTIL A FEW DAYS AGO? DO THESE WORDS COME OUT OF THE MAN WHO SENT HIS BROTHERS TO CONQUER THE LENGTH AND BREADTH OF THE LAND A FEW YEARS AGO?” He turned around and paced the length of the hut, which was, admittedly, quite short. 

 

‘Doesn’t want war my ass,’ Vindhya heard him muttering. He took a few deep breaths, as if to make sense of his thoughts.

 

“BUT WHAT ABOUT THE FACT I WANT WAR? BECAUSE I DO! You may have forgotten what happened in that accursed game of dice, but I haven’t! How dare you-” his moustache quivered in his anger as spit flew from his mouth. Vindhya sat back down on the bed, closed his eyes tight, and wished for it all to pass. 

 

“Your anger is justified,” Father said calmly. A vein began throbbing in Vindhya’s head. “If our wife, however, considers her honour and dishonour to be different from ours, then you are free to go and avenge her,” 

 

Mama’s face flitted through about six emotions in one moment. Mother looked…. Hurt. Helpless. Sad. 

 

“Tell father that his quest to make the best archer my husband had led to my fate and fortune being inextricably intertwined with the Pandavas. Go home. Take care of my children. And I will wait for you,” she said quietly. 

 

“Come with me, Agnijaa, run away with me!” Mama burst out, almost in tears. 

 

“You’re a commander, Dhrishtadyumna,” Mother said coolly. “Would you leave the battlefield in the middle of a war?” 

 

Mama shook his head. 

 

“Exactly. This is my battle to fight. And these open hair, my words, and- and Prativindhya- they are my weapons. Let me do it,” 

 

He went over to father, and they talked quietly for a bit. 

 

Prativindhya only came to his senses when mama was leaving the hut. He reached under the cot, searching for something. Pulling out two letters, he got up with a flash, his head hitting the door of the hut as he walked out. His head throbbed with pain, but nothing mattered at that moment.  

 

“Vindhya!” he could hear uncle nakul calling. 

 

“Son!” mother said. 

 

Their cries faded into the background as he ran after Dhrishtadyumna’s chariot. 

 

“Mama! Mama, wait! Please, please, wait! I’m sorry, I tried! Mama!” 

 

As he ran, he tripped over a rock and fell down, but somehow pulled himself up into a sitting position, his knees split and his hand scratched and bleeding. 

 

“Prativindhya, what happened? Why didn’t I see you in the hut?” 

 

“I was- I was behind the partition, I was hiding. I couldn’t face you!” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“I’m sorry, I tried, I tried to stop it from happening, I tried to protect her, please, I am sorry!” Vindhya said. His words slowly devolved into incoherent rubbish as he helplessly held out his hands filled with the letters to everyone . 

 

“It was not your fault, Vindhya. It was solely your fathers,” mama said. “Now, will you get up and go back, or are you coming with me?” 

 

Vindhya swallowed the lump in his throat and accepted mama’s hand, getting up and walking back towards their hut. 

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Prativindhya- 2

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

By the time Prativindhya reached the hut, it was already evening. Mother was serving dinner when he limped in, but he ignored everyone and made a beeline for the corner of the hut where his mattress was. His legs hurt . The mattress was itchy. 

 

“Prativindhya, come on, stop being dramatic, eat dinner!” Father said. Vindhya ignored him, like he had been for the past two weeks. Maybe, if enough people ignored him, maybe his words would stop doing harm. Five words. Five words were all it took to ruin his life, turn it all upside down. He wanted a day where father would say a thousand words and they wouldn’t matter at all. A day where he shouted himself hoarse but no one listened to him. He burrowed deeper into Mother’s saree he was using as a blanket. The change- it started with him. His plan was simple. Get everyone on his side, one by one, and get them to ignore father completely, act like he didn’t exist. And then, declare war on Hastinapur, Father wasn’t a combatant anyway, it would not be much of a loss. He would focus on getting better, healing, and training, and become a better fighter than father. 

 

A better man, as well, although, that part wasn’t hard. 

 

A hand on his shoulder. 

 

Vindhya startled awake. 

 

“You were- you were thrashing in pain while you were asleep,” Vindhya couldn’t recognize who it was. He sucked in a sharp breath in pain. 

 

“Do you need water?” The voice asked. 

 

Prativindhya groaned faintly. 

 

“I couldn’t sleep, and when I got up, I saw you. Like this,” The shadow said. 

 

“Parth kaka?” 

 

“Yes?” 

 

Vindhya didn’t say anything, watching in the faint moonlight as the shadow slinked away and brought back a pot of water. 

The silence stretched between them as Vindhya drank the water. His stomach still hurt. His throat still hurt. His body groaned with every movement. How was he supposed to fight in a war now? Almost unconsciously, he let out a soft, sharp sob. 

 

“Are you alright? Should I-” 

 

“No! Don’t wake anyone up, it’s- it’s alright.” Vindhya said hurriedly. “It’s just. It hurts, you know? Everywhere!” 

 

“That is horrible, I agree. Should I wake up Sahadev? He can give you stronger-” 

 

“No- Don’t! Please, don’t wake him up!” 

 

“Why?” Parth kaka asked. 

 

“I- I don’t want him to feel bad, you know? He’s constantly looking out for me, he’s always making sure I am safe, the last thing I want to happen is for him to feel like the medicines he is giving me aren’t working,” Vindhya began. 

 

“He won’t-” 

 

“No, please- Please, kaka, listen to me,” 

 

“Alright, alright, I won’t get him. But it hurts me to see you in so much pain,” Kaka said. 

 

“Then you should’ve done something when I was trying to save mother!” Prativindhya whisper-shouted. “You sat there, silently, as I was beaten up until I passed out, and tried to hold back anyone who intervened! I may not remember much, but I’m still sound enough,” 

 

That shut him up. Good. Vindhya needed the quiet. 

 

“I am sorry I woke you up. You sounded like you were probably having a nightmare,” 

 

“Oh really? Nice, I’ll make sure to scream louder next time so you’ll at least know for certain, so your curiosity can be satiated. How does that sound?” 

 

“Prativindhya, please-”

 

“No. You all deserve every bit of my anger. At least I’ve calmed down a bit right now,” He said. 

 

“Oh, really? I wouldn’t have known, what with the glares and refusing to eat and the silent treatment,” Parth kaka bit back sarcastically. 

 

Prativindhya huffed and turned away from him, curling up on the bed. 

 

“Don’t curl up- it- it makes the pain worse,” Parth kaka said softly. 

 

“How do you know?” Vindya asked. 

 

“I’ve been on my fair share of adventures,” He said lightly. 

 

“Okay, yeah, fair,” 

 

“And even if you feel terrible after waking up from a nightmare, sometimes, staying awake helps. Why do you think I never sleep?” Parth kaka said lightly. 

 

“But I want to go back to sleep,” Vindhya finally said. Then, when he received no response, he said, “Will you stay with me?” 

 

“Of course,” Arj- Parth kaka said. 

 

“You know,” Prativindhya piped up, voice muddled with sleepiness, “I’ve always loved hearing about your adventures,” 

 

“Aww, that’s so sweet-” 

 

“My favourite character from my bedtime stories was you,” 

 

“Really? Oh-” 

 

“Everything you did was soooo relatable,” Prativindhya continued. 

 

“Okay?” Kaka said, bewildered. 

 

“Can you hold my hand till I fall asleep?” Vindhya said. “I promise I’ll talk to Deva kaka about the medicine tomorrow,” 

 

When Bheem woke up the next morning, he found Prativindhya fast asleep, relatively relaxed more than usual, holding Arjun’s hand tightly, Arjun dozing off while sitting up. He rearranged Arjun in a sleeping position and went off to fetch some water from the river. 

 

Notes:

You know how you sometimes feel comfortable sharing problems with someone you don't really know that well instead of close friends/family? That's what is happening here.