Clay jars lined the walls of a cramped storeroom in the Pandavas' wing, their curved shadows stretching across the stone floor as evening settled heavy and still. A single candle flickered on a wooden ledge, its flame casting jagged patches of light that danced over the jars, their surfaces glazed and cool. The air hung thick with the scent of oil and grain, a faint mustiness clinging to the corners where sacks slumped against the walls, their seams dusted with barley. The storeroom's door stood ajar, letting in a sliver of twilight from the corridor beyond, and the distant hum of the palace kitchens buzzed softly, a murmur beneath the quiet.
Kunti stood near the candle, her crimson sari folded tight around her shoulders, the fabric catching the light as she planted her feet firm. Her dark hair spilled loose, brushing her back, and her hands rested on her hips, her sharp eyes tracing her sons. Yudhishthira leaned against a jar by the wall, his patched tunic swaying as he crossed his arms, his dark hair tied back, his gaze steady. Bhima slouched against the opposite wall, his broad frame filling the space, his vest loose and patched, his dark curls damp from the day's fight. Arjuna sat cross-legged near the ledge, his bow across his knees, his fingers tracing its curve, his tunic rippling as he shifted. Nakula and Sahadeva knelt on a woven mat near the door, their fair and dark heads bent close, their small tunics creased from sitting, their hands clasped together.
Kunti's voice cut through the stillness, sharp and firm as she stepped forward, her sari swaying. "Enough waiting, boys. We're here, and they're out there. One heart, that's what we need. Swear it now." She pointed at each in turn, her hand steady, and her dark eyes burned, her resolve a fire lighting the room.
Yudhishthira unfolded his arms, his voice calm and steady as he straightened, his tunic settling. "One heart? Always, mother. Wisdom holds us together. I swear it." He nodded, his dark eyes meeting hers, and his quiet strength anchored the words, his hands resting at his sides.
Bhima pushed off the wall, his voice loud and gruff as he cracked his knuckles, his broad shoulders shifting. "Wisdom? Strength's what I've got! It's yours, all of you. I swear that!" He grinned, a wide flash of teeth, and slapped his chest, the sound sharp, his dark curls bouncing as he stood tall.
Arjuna's fingers paused on his bow, his voice crisp and sure as he looked up, his tunic fluttering. "Strength's good, Bhima. My arrows are bound to you lot. Sworn, mother!" He tapped the bow, his small frame buzzing, and his dark eyes glinted, his loyalty sharp and bright.
Nakula lifted his head, his voice soft and warm as he squeezed Sahadeva's hand, his fair curls catching the candlelight. "Bound, yes. We're one with you, mother. Forever!" He smiled, gentle and quick, and his small tunic shifted as he leaned forward, his promise light but firm.
Sahadeva nodded beside him, his voice quieter but steady as he met Kunti's gaze, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "Forever, like he said. One with you all. I swear it too!" He pressed his hand tighter against Nakula's, his small frame still, and his vow echoed, soft and sure.
Kunti's hands clasped, her voice firm and warm as she stepped closer, her sari rustling. "Good, then. One heart, one strength. Kneel, all of you. Say it together." She tilted her head, her dark hair swaying, and her sharp eyes softened, her relief threading through the command.
Yudhishthira knelt first, his voice steady and low as he sank to the stone, his tunic pooling. "Together? Easy enough. One heart, one strength. Sworn." He raised a hand, his dark eyes steady, and his calm wove through the room, a thread of trust.
Bhima dropped to one knee, his voice loud and bold as he grinned, his broad hand slapping the floor. "One heart, one strength! Sworn, like I said! Done!" He laughed, a deep rumble, and his dark curls bounced, his power a wall beside Yudhishthira's calm.
Arjuna slid his bow aside, his voice crisp and quick as he knelt, his small hands flat on the stone. "One heart, one strength. Sworn, clear as my shots!" He nodded, his dark eyes flashing, and his tunic settled, his sharpness a spark in the flickering light.
Nakula and Sahadeva shifted forward, their voices soft and blended as they knelt closer, their hands touching. "One heart, one strength. Sworn, forever!" Nakula's fair curls tilted, Sahadeva's dark hair swayed, and their gentle echo rose, a quiet promise sealing the circle.
Kunti's hands unclasped, her voice sharp and steady as she raised them, her sari taut. "Louder, boys! Let it hold. Say it again!" She stepped back, her dark eyes blazing, and the candle flared, its flame stretching as their voices lifted.
Yudhishthira's voice stayed calm, his hands rising as he spoke, his tunic still. "One heart, one strength. Sworn!" His dark eyes locked on Kunti's, his wisdom a steady pulse, and he nodded, his vow a rock in the storm.
Bhima's voice boomed, his broad frame rocking as he shouted, his grin wide. "One heart, one strength! Sworn!" He punched the air, his dark curls shaking, and his laugh rolled out, his strength a roar beside the others.
Arjuna's voice rang, crisp and bright as he leaned forward, his small hands clenched. "One heart, one strength! Sworn!" His dark eyes glinted, his bow forgotten, and his loyalty cut through, a blade of sound in the cramped space.
Nakula and Sahadeva's voices lifted together, soft and clear as they pressed closer, their hands linked. "One heart, one strength! Sworn!" Nakula's smile flashed, Sahadeva's nod followed, and their gentle tones wove tight, a thread of unity glowing.
Kunti lowered her hands, her voice firm and warm as she stepped into their circle, her sari brushing the stone. "That's it. Unshakable, you hear me? They'll come, Duryodhana and his lot. This holds us." She pointed at their hands, now touching, and her dark hair fell forward, her relief a quiet glow beneath her resolve.
Yudhishthira's hands rested on his knees, his voice steady and low as he looked up, his tunic settling. "Holds us, yes. I'll keep it true, mother. Always." He tilted his head, his dark eyes thoughtful, and his calm steadied the flickering light, a promise rooted deep.
Bhima's grin widened, his voice loud and gruff as he rocked back, his broad frame towering. "True? I'll smash anything that tests it! We're set!" He cracked his knuckles again, the sound sharp, and his dark curls bounced, his power a shield around them.
Arjuna grabbed his bow, his voice crisp and sure as he stood, his small tunic rippling. "Set and ready! My arrows'll fly for this. No breaking it!" He slung the bow over his shoulder, his dark eyes sharp, and his loyalty burned, a fire in the dim room.
Nakula pulled Sahadeva up, his voice soft and bright as he dusted his hands, his fair curls bouncing. "No breaking, never! We're in, all the way!" He grinned, his small frame buzzing, and his gentle warmth lit the circle, a spark of trust.
Sahadeva nodded, his voice quiet and firm as he stood beside Nakula, his dark hair swaying. "All the way, like he said. This is us. Sworn!" He clasped Nakula's shoulder, his small tunic creasing, and his steady vow sealed it, a soft echo of strength.
Kunti's hands rested on her hips, her voice sharp and steady as she watched them rise, her sari taut. "Us, yes. A fortress, boys. They'll try, but we stand. Remember it." She stepped back, her dark eyes glinting, and the candle flared again, its light steadying as their bond took shape.
The storeroom hummed, the jars glinting in the glow, and the air settled, heavy but warm. Kunti's sari swayed as she turned to the ledge, her voice soft and firm as she blew out the candle, smoke curling up. "Sleep now. Tomorrow tests this. We're ready." She moved to the door, her dark hair a shadow, and the Pandavas followed, their footsteps a united thud, their vow a fierce light against the growing enmity.