Chapter 17: The Name That Undid Her

Dawn painted the sky in soft streaks of saffron and silver.

Snow melted slow and steady on the cave roof. The wind had gentled for once. It was the kind of morning that didn’t demand anything — just let things be.

Inside, Agnika sat curled in Draupadi’s lap, wrapped in a faded silk scarf. Draupadi had braided her curls gently, fingers deft and loving, murmuring old lullabies from her childhood in Panchala.

> Agnika didn’t speak.

She just stared up at her — eyes heavy, tired, like she had seen too much dream-sorrow in too short a life.

Draupadi, brushing the final loop of braid, smiled softly. “You look like a queen already, little one.”

Agnika blinked.

Tilted her head.

And then, in a voice barely more than breath—

> “Maa.”

---

The world stopped.

Draupadi froze.

Agnika said it again.

> “Maa…”

And then she reached up — those small, dimpled arms stretching toward Draupadi’s face.

As if to touch her tears…

Tears that hadn’t yet fallen.

But were already there.

---

Across the cave, Bhima paused mid-spoonful of porridge.

Sahadeva’s cup dropped to the floor.

Nakula whispered, “Did she—?”

Arjuna turned slowly.

Yudhishthir closed his eyes in a quiet, wordless smile.

And Krishna, from where he leaned against the wall, let out a long, soft breath.

---

Draupadi looked down at Agnika — her lip trembling now, hands shaking.

> “You… you called me…”

The child smiled, eyes watery.

> “Maa.”

That was all.

But it was everything.

---

Draupadi pulled her close — crushed her to her chest — and the tears came.

Not as a storm.

But like a river that had waited years behind stone.

> No one had ever called her that.

Not even her own children, not with such softness.

She was always Queen. Wife. Fire-born.

But never just… Maa.

---

She kissed Agnika’s forehead again and again, weeping, laughing between the tears.

> “You don’t know what you’ve given me.”

Bhima stood slowly, watching them — eyes glistening but proud.

He looked at the others. “I think she’s finished choosing.”

Arjuna asked softly, “What do you mean?”

Bhima smiled.

> “She gave ‘baba’ to the one who held her.

Gave ‘papa’ to the ones who feared being forgotten.

And now…”

He nodded toward Draupadi, whose shawl was soaked with happy tears.

> “Now she gave ‘maa’ to the one who gave her fire.”

---

That night, as they lay in a ring around the fire — family not by blood, but by something stronger — Agnika slept peacefully for the first time in days.

No dreams.

No cries.

Just her hand resting against Draupadi’s chest…

And a soft whisper, even in sleep—

> “Maa…”

---

💫 End of Chapter 17