"Amrita Bhojana!" Surya's radiant glow dimmed, but his eyes burned intensely as he fixated on the divine feast before them.
Vayu swallowed hard. "This time… we'll get a taste, won't we?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Agni's mouth parted slightly in anticipation. "If Mahadev does not take the plate first," he muttered, half in jest, half in dread.
Varuna's gaze shimmered with expectation. "Let us not waste time speaking of last time," he said, trying to sound dignified but failing to hide his eagerness. "The King will share, surely."
The gathered immortals leaned in, eyes gleaming as though beholding a celestial treasure.
This was the second time they had eyes on the Amrita Bhojana, the sacred feast that Devi Lakshmi and Parvati prepared.
Last time, they hadn't even gotten a single bite. Mahadev and Devi Parvati hadn't even glanced toward them before finishing the entire plate.
This time, surely, the King would leave them some scraps. The Devas were eager, their restraint hanging by a thread.
With a serene smile, Devi Lakshmi approached Indra, cradling the Amrita Bhojana in her delicate hands. She stepped forward gracefully and placed it on a great stone.
The divine feast was a spread of Kesari Bhaat, its saffron-infused grains gleaming like molten gold, alongside honey-soaked Malpua and creamy, fragrant Peda. A silver bowl of Panchamrit shimmered with the sacred blend of milk, honey, ghee, yogurt, and sugar, while a towering platter of Modak, rich with jaggery and coconut, sat beside a velvety Kheer, thick with condensed milk and scented with cardamom.
Don't think about it. Don't acknowledge it. And yet... it still smells divine. Indra grudgingly admitted to himself.
From the side, Parvati stepped forward, standing beside Devi Lakshmi.
"Last time, I shared Amrita Bhojana with Mahadeva," she said, her voice carrying a warm, nostalgic lilt. "We prepared this one together as well."
She tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her eyes as she chuckled.
"Eat quickly."
A tense silence hung in the air.
Surya cleared his throat. "Brother … you will allow your devoted little brothers to partake, yes?"
Vayu crossed his arms, his tone deceptively casual. "If not, we may just 'accidentally' let a strong breeze carry it to a more… neutral table."
Agni scoffed. "Even the flames of my own heart could not compare to the fire of my hunger."
Varuna sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple. "Must we really grovel? It is undignified. His eyes flickered toward the dish. "But I would not oppose… a small share."
Indra closed his eyes for a long moment before exhaling.
The scent was divine—undeniably so. But the presentation?
Not impressive. Forget it.
The moment the thought crossed his mind, something within him stirred—a slow, steady heat spreading through his being. His tapas, the power of asceticism, surged, coiling tighter within him like a flame seeking to break free.
Is it still rising?
A realization struck him.
The last time his strength had inexplicably increased… it hadn't been a mere coincidence. It was when he had refused the Amrita Bhojana.
His jaw clenched. So that was the test.
Indra's expression hardened. Straightening his posture, he lifted his chin, his voice firm with conviction.
"Two Devis, let us wait until we have won the battle against Asuras before indulging in this feast."
A ripple of surprise passed through the gathered Devas. Vayu furrowed his brows. Agni's flames flickered uncertainly. Even Surya's glow wavered, as though unsure whether to burn brighter or dim in response.
Indra's gaze remained steady, unwavering. "The meal after victory is the most delicious of all."
A knowing smile curved Vishnu's lips. The protector of the world understood. A warrior's resolve must be tempered by discipline. Indulgence came after triumph, never before.
On the other side, Parvati frowned, lowering her gaze in contemplation. A long, silent moment passed before she lifted her head once more.
Then, she shook it slightly and spoke, her voice imbued with quiet determination.
"A soldier should eat well before battle." Her words carried the gentle weight of wisdom, of a mother's love. "Every mother does her utmost to prepare a meal when she sees her child going off to fight, praying for their safe return."
The warmth in her gaze softened into something deeper, an unshakable certainty.
"Eat quickly." She had prepared this meal with her own hands. How could she allow it to go to waste?
Shiva smiled and gave a gentle nod.
Indra's eyes flickered as he looked at Devi Parvati, momentarily unsure. Was she insisting that he eat? If he refused, would she be offended? Would there be consequences? He needed to think this through.
Then, as if a realization struck him, he let out a small breath and smiled. "You're right, Mother. No warrior should go into battle on an empty stomach. Strength comes not just from power, but from being prepared." His gaze shifted to the gathered devas. "This meal should be shared with all who stand beside me. No one fights alone, and no one should feast alone either."
The moment he spoke, something stirred deep within him, a familiar, warm energy rising from within. His tapas, his power from years of penance, surged again, confirming that this was the right path.
So that's it…
A quiet satisfaction settled in Indra's chest.
Parvati studied him carefully, then gave a small nod, a hint of something—approval, perhaps—crossing her face. "A king who cares for his warriors is one who truly understands his duty. May this meal fortify your spirit."
The devas, who had been watching in silence, now stirred.
Surya stepped forward, his voice filled with respect. "A leader who shares meals like these with us deserves the loyalty of his people."
Agni followed, bowing his head slightly. "May your path be lit with victory, Indra."
One by one, the others joined, murmuring words of agreement and pressing their hands together in quiet reverence.
"To Indra, King of Svarga."
Their voices echoed through the hall, carrying the weight of true respect. Indra exhaled, allowing himself to soak in the moment.
For now, he would eat. And after that?
Victory awaited.
…
At that moment, the devas were overcome with emotion, pressing their hands together in reverence as they bowed. Even the great Rishi Dadichi, who had remained silent until now, inclined his head slightly before joining his hands in quiet devotion, offering his pranam.
Amidst this sea of reverence, Vishnu's smile deepened. His eyes flickered with amusement as he turned toward Indra, his gaze sharp yet playful.
"Indra, the generous warrior, the valiant leader of the devas," he said, his voice warm but laced with knowing mischief. "You honor us with your kindness, but before you share this divine feast, let us first present the Amrita Bhojana. Surely, you would not deny yourself such a boon?"
Indra stiffened almost imperceptibly. He had been careful and methodical, ensuring that every act of generosity added to his growing tapasyā. Was Vishnu onto him? The god of preservation was many things—serene, omniscient, benevolent—but he was also known for his playful tricks.
Before Indra could respond, Vishnu raised his hand, tapping his fingers lightly against the air.
A golden radiance shot forth from his fingertips, gliding smoothly before settling in front of the gathered devas.
The light pulsed, shimmering with an ethereal glow before slowly beginning to fade.
And from within that divine brilliance, a figure stepped forward.
A pair of eyes—calm, deep, and luminous as a still lake—blinked slowly, taking in the celestial landscape of Kailasha.
For a moment, time itself seemed to hold its breath. The winds fell silent, the rivers halted mid-flow, flames flickered into gentle embers, and even Surya's golden rays softened, as if in deference to her presence.
The devas stood frozen, their thoughts scattered, their breath caught in their throats. The feast, the battle, their very existence—everything faded into insignificance as they gazed upon the radiant being before them.
A delighted smile touched Devi Lakshmi's lips.
Parvati, too, felt a quiet joy stir in her chest at the sight of the celestial beauty standing before them.
Even Brahma, seated upon his lotus in the distant Brahmaloka, turned his gaze toward her, his expression unreadable yet filled with quiet awe.
Mohini.
The divine enchantress.
She had returned.
Indra's breath hitched. His heart pounded wildly.
Not good…
A chilling realization coursed through him—he was already ensnared. He could neither move nor think, as though his very will had been stripped away. He simply wanted to keep looking at her.
Last time, he had been wise enough to shut his eyes, avoiding the full brunt of her mesmerizing charm. But now, standing before her, he was powerless. He had no desire to escape. He only wanted to watch… to admire… to bask in the sheer beauty of Mohini.
Her passionate eyes gleamed with mischief as she swayed forward, her movements a symphony of grace. Her delicate waist was curved with effortless fluidity, each step a mesmerizing dance.
With a soft smile, she accepted the Amrita Bhojana from Devi Lakshmi, then turned to Indra, stepping toward him with an elegance that left the world breathless.
Reaching out, she gently took his hand in hers, her fingers cool against his skin. With a light tug, she guided him forward, leading him toward the great stone.
And Indra, the mighty King of Svarga, followed without resistance.
Mohini's cool hands were like fresh spring water, sending a soothing chill through Indra's skin. A shiver of unexpected comfort ran down his spine.
Her lips curled into a knowing smile, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Ah, Indra~" she murmured, her voice a soft, teasing melody. "The great King of the Svarga, the undefeated Aditya… should he not be pampered, just a little?"
She seated herself gracefully across from him, the Amrita Bhojana resting lightly on her lap. With effortless elegance, she plucked a delicate pinch of rice between her slender fingers.
Tilting her head ever so slightly, she parted her lips.
"Aah~"
The sound was light, playful—almost hypnotic.
Indra, caught in her spell, felt his breath hitch. A battle-hardened warrior, a god of storms and thunder, reduced to nothing more than an obedient guest at her whim.
Without thinking, he parted his lips.
The cool touch of her fingers brushed against his mouth as the divine rice passed between his lips. A spark of something dangerous and intoxicating flickered through him.
Mohini's eyes shimmered with quiet amusement as she continued, one bite after another. The devas watched, unable to look away. Even Parvati, watching from the sidelines, covered her smile with the edge of her sari, shaking her head slightly.
One by one, each bite disappeared, and before long, the plate was empty.
Indra exhaled slowly, grounding himself once more. It was over. Whatever spell Mohini had cast upon him had lifted—
Or so he thought.
Her eyes flickered with sudden mischief.
Leaning in, she plucked a stray grain of rice from the corner of his lips.
And—without a word, without hesitation—she slipped it between her own.
Her lips curved, a whisper of laughter escaping them.
"Hehe~"
She blinked at him, twirling the hem of her sari, utterly pleased with herself.
Then—
Uh-huh!
In an instant, she was gone.
"!!!"
Indra's eyes flew wide. A sharp breath caught in his throat.
Had he just been—?
The devas remained frozen. Some blinked in disbelief. Others let out barely concealed sighs of admiration. A few sat in dazed silence, caught in the lingering enchantment of the moment.
Meanwhile, Vishnu exchanged a knowing glance with Rishi Dadichi.
Then—
They both smiled.
Vishnu's gaze flickered toward Indra, the corners of his lips curling ever so slightly. Amusement danced in his celestial eyes.
"Ah, Indra… it seems Mohini has taken quite a liking to you."
Indra stiffened, his jaw tightening. His fingers curled into fists at his sides as he coughed once, sharply, before pointedly averting his gaze.
"Nonsense," he muttered, his voice strained but resolute. "I am a warrior. A king. I do not fall prey to such… distractions."
Mohini had gone too far!
And yet—
As the warmth of the Amrita Bhojana settled in his body, something became unmistakably clear.
Power surged within him.
This meal… this divine offering…
I feel stronger. His fingers flexed, strength humming beneath his skin. Whatever game Mohini had played, whatever play Vishnu had woven.
It had worked.
---
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