Chapter 66 - 64: Marriage Of Devara & Gandhari... Uninvited Guest...
(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
Guys 4th Volume ends here... From next Chapter is volume 5 War with Kamsa.
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The water still clung to her skin.
The memory—far more stubborn—refused to leave.
Gandhari was gently escorted back to her chamber, attendants already preparing new garments, ornaments, the final layers of a bride.
But her thoughts—Were not in the mirror.
"I want to see him... Prince Devara now...,"
She said softly as she was about to walk away.
Her mother stopped her from going.
Not harshly. Not firmly.
But with the quiet authority of tradition.
"Not now."
A small pause.
"Until the marriage is complete... you must not meet."
Gandhari exhaled hearing her mothers tone. When she uses that she would never take no for an answer.
A faint pout flickered—gone almost instantly.
"...Fine."
But her fingers still held the bouquet tighter than needed.
Going back to her chamber.
Meanwhile the arena was no longer an arena.
It was a
A sacred center where the marriage would take place.
At its heart—A yajna fire rose steadily.
Not wild. Not fierce.
Controlled as it was regularly maintained by the priests.
Witnessing the marriage which was about to take place.
Priests moved in rhythm.
Mantras flowed like a river that had no beginning.
The Ganapathi pooja had begun—Invoking Ganesha to remove obstacles before anything else could.
The public gathered at the outer rings.
A sea of anticipation.
Inside the arena—The royal families from both sides. Allies. Friends.
Every gaze—Turned toward the center.
One by one—Ceremonies unfolded.
Each step—A thread. And then—It was time.
The groom arrived.
Devara walked in—not with force, not with grandeur—But with presence.
He folded his hands. A simple gesture.
A quiet acknowledgement.
"Thank you."
Not spoken aloud. But understood by those who arrived to witness the marriage.
He took his seat.
The fire flickered gently before him.
The sage’s voice rose—Mantras weaving through the air.
Not rushed. Not hurried.
Measured. Ancient. As they all uttered at the same time.
Devara sat still. While following their instructions doing all the ceremonies.
The sacred rhythm of the mantras flowed steady—Like a river that believed nothing could disturb it.
Until—A guard broke that illusion.
He moved quickly, scroll in hand, breath uneven but controlled as he was carrying a very important news from the border.
"....."
He reached King Subala And bowed respectfully.
As the scroll passed to him.
King Subala took it without any question and read it.
"...."
And in that single moment—The warmth left his face as he read each words.
Not panic. But something colder.
Understanding the mockery in it.
He handed it to Prince Shakuni
Who took it carefully read. The usual smirk did not return.
"...I see."
No dramatics. Just calculation of what might happen next.
He folded the scroll. And walked.
Straight to the stage.
The chants continued while all this was on going..
No one stopped him.
He leaned slightly—And whispered into Devara’s ear.
For a fraction of a second—Devara stilled in supraise.
"...."
Not outwardly. But enough to pause.
Then whispered back something to Prince Shakuni.
"...Are you sure?"
Shakuni murmured in shock looking at Devara whether is he sure about what he had said.
Devara’s reply was quiet. Measured. And confidence.
"...Yes."
A single nod followed as he looked back at Shakuni seriously.
-Nod!
And that—Was enough.
Prince Shakuni stepped back.
Turned. And walked out of the arena.
Not hurried. Not slow.
Like a man already holding a plan.
The ceremony did not stop in the midset.
Because it could not. Because it must not.
And then—She arrived it was her turn.
Princess Gandhari
Adorned in red. Radiant. Saree.
She stepped forward. Folded her hands.
A small bow—To those gathered in respect.
To the moment itself.
And then—She sat beside him.
Devara leaned slightly as soon as she sat.
"...You look beautiful."
Simple. Direct. Wih a smirk in his face.
-Smirk!
Gandhari didn’t respond with words.
"...."
She pinched him sharply at the waist.
"...Behave."
A quiet whisper.
He exhaled softly. Almost amused by her wild cat reaction he had received from her.
-Sigh!
"...."
Nearby—A few noticed this exchange between the groom and the bride.
Soft chuckles spread among them.
-Chuckles!
Even amidst ritual—They were... human.
The ceremony resumed.
Together—They performed the Ganapathi pooja which now needed to be done by both groom and the bride, invoking God Ganesha
Hands moving in sync.
Offerings placed at the pure fire.
Fire crackling steadily between them.
One ritual flowed into another.
Thread by thread—The bond was being woven into the destiny.
But beneath the chants—Beneath the laughter—Beneath the sacred fire—Something else moved.
A message had arrived which only few knew King Subala, Prince Shakuni and finally Devara who was the groom and A decision had been made.
And Shakuni had already left to take care of it.
The sacred fire burned steady—no longer just ritual, but witness.
What began as ceremony... now became bond.
Devara entering not as warrior, but as one ready to receive.
Then—The Jaimala.
Garlands lifted as both of them were ready.
Eyes met as the understanding passed between them.
A moment stretched—Then laughter as they placed them around each other’s necks.
A simple act.
Yet it marked acceptance of their newly formed bond.
Next—The weight of tradition deepened.
Kanyadaan
King Subala placed Gandhari’s hand into Devara’s.
A father’s trust of entrusting his daughter’s safety and dignity to another man who was going to become her husband.
A king Shubala he looked at Devara with little bit of red eyes.
"Protect her," his eyes said, even if his lips did not.
Devara didn’t speak.
"...."
But his grip—Firm. Steady. Was answer enough to reassure King Subala that he was the right one for her.
The garments were tied. A knot formed.
Not cloth. Connection to were formed.
And then—The heart of it all.
Saptapadi the ritual where Seven
Each steps were the Seven promises.
They rose together.
The fire crackled. And began.
First Step is the promise of—Nourishment
They stepped forward.
To sustain each other. Body and soul.
The Second Step is the promise of—Strength
Another step. Not alone anymore. Both of them will have each other backs.
Third Step is the promise of—Prosperity
A shared path solely owned by them. Built, not given by others.
Fourth Step is the promise of—Knowledge & Happiness
Grow Together. Not ahead of each other and look down on each other.
Fifth Step is the promise of—Family
A future beyond themselves where they would be together no matter what and be a family.
Sixth Step is the promise—Health & Longevity
Time will not age their love for each other.
Protected each other from difficulty they might face in the future.
Honor each other and protect it...
Seventh Step is the promise—Lifelong Friendship
The final step is Not the end. But The beginning of their long lasting relationship.
They circled the fire—Agni Pradakshina
The flames watched as a witness for their union. The universe listened to their promise.
For a brief moment—Nothing else existed. Not the armies.
Not Kamsa. Not the shadows waiting beyond the walls.
Just two people. Walking besides each other. Choosing each other. Binding each other.
Devara glanced at Gandhari once.
"...."
Not as prince. Not as warrior. But As partner.
Gandhari met his gaze.
"...."
And in that silent exchange—The vows were sealed deeper than words.
The final mantra echoed.
The fire leaned higher, as if it knew the moment had arrived.
The final rite.
The priest placed it in Devara’s hands—The
Simple. Sacred. Unbreakable in meaning for the bride and the groom from here on.
Around them—Hands rose sensing the moment that they all have been waiting for.
Turmeric-mixed rice. Flower petals. A rain of blessings.
From all around fell on them as the sign of blessing.
Devara leaned forward.
And tied it. Not hurried feeling each second as their bond get connected.
Not ceremonial alone. Deliberate.
Then—He lifted vermillion given by the priest.
Placed it gently on Gandhari’s forehead.
Who closed her eyes and accepted it.
A single line on her forehead.
And with it—A life changed from now on each other life is connected.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Not sorrow. But of Relief. Because she had arrived.
Not at a place. But at a person in the very person’s life she loved very deeply.
And then—The doors of the arena opened.
Not loudly. But enough.
Enough to silence the entire arena.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Prince Shakuni walked in first hurriedly.
A breath escaped him. He had made it finally even through nearly at the end.
Behind him—A presence heavier than armor.
King Kamsa who was their current enemy.
And a handful of royal guards.
Silence fell on the arena by the sudden shift in the atmosphere.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Not gradual. But Immediate.
Prince Shakuni’s brothers stepped forward—Fury rising in their voice as their brother as brought their brother-in-laws enemy to the marriage.
"Why did you bring him here?!"
Prince Shakuni only shrugged lightly helplessly.
Then pointed—At Devara.
"...He asked. When King Kamsa send a scroll that he was interested in attending this marraige."
That answer rippled through the hall.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Every gaze turned at the same time.
Toward the stage. Toward the groom.
Toward the man who had just completed his vows.
Gandhari looked at him—Confusion. Concern. Clearly visible on her face.
Devara—Remained still as if it was normal. Calm.
His eyes met Kamsa’s. And did not move.
Meanwhile—Devaki and Vasudeva rushed forward—Instinct. Fear. Trust.
They stood near him.
Because that was the safest place they knew.
King Kamsa stopped. And stared. When his eyes landed on Devara the prince who had the guts to oppose him.
Not at his face. At his eyes.
Green. Unwavering even after seeing him.
Something shifted in his mind.
A memory. The dreams.
A shadowed figure that had haunted him for years driving him nearly crazy.
Blurred. Unclear.
Now—It snapped into focus showing who it was.
The boy before him. No. The man before him.
Silence held.
"...."
"...."
"...."
For a few breaths.
Then—Kamsa laughed. Loud. Unrestrained. Wrong. More leaning towards crazy.
"-HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
It echoed across the
Bhishma frowned hearing his laughter.
-Frown!
Drona stilled as he analysed Kamsa.
Vidura narrowed his gaze feeling the mockery in it.
Behind them—Rajmata Satyavati, Queen mothers Ambika and Ambalika too were not appreciating Kamsa for his presence.
Even Goddess Ganga and Goddess Bhudevi. Watched him coldly.
"...."
"...."
Because this laughter—Was not amusement.
It was realization of something which Kamsa as been searching for all these years.
In the audience—Unnoticed by most—Lord Shiva, Goddess Parvati, Lord Vishnu, Goddess Lakshmi, Lord Brahma and Goddess Saraswati.
Along with Kartikeya and Ganesha
And the their sisters—Watched silently.
Because this moment—Was not just confrontation.
It was convergence which as been entrusted to Devara which he needs to handle.
Fate—Finally recognizing itself.
On one side—A king who believed himself unstoppable.
On the other—A man who had just bound himself to something worth protecting.
And between them—A silence that carried the weight of what comes next.
The fire flickered. Not in fear. In anticipation of what the both party is about to do.
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(Author note:)
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