Hay rustled underfoot in the palace stables, the dusk air sharp with the scent of horses and leather. Wooden stalls creaked as the animals shifted, their hooves tapping softly against the straw-strewn floor, and lanterns hung from beams, casting long shadows that danced across the walls. Shakuni limped through the narrow aisle, his black robes swishing with each uneven step, his cane tapping a faint rhythm. His dark eyes glinted as he passed Nakula's brown colt, its mane gleaming in the lantern light, its ears twitching at the sound. Duryodhana strode beside him, his dark tunic rumpled, his small hands restless as he smirked, his voice loud in the quiet. Duhshasana trailed close, his fair hair tangled, his small frame buzzing with excitement, his giggles bubbling up as he peeked over Shakuni's shoulder.
Shakuni paused by the colt's stall, his cane resting against the wood, and his voice hissed, sly and low as he leaned toward Duryodhana. "Loose it, nephew. That little horseman's pride—watch them scramble when it bolts." He tapped the latch, his grin crooked, and his black robes swayed as he stepped back.
Duryodhana's smirk widened, his voice loud and sharp as he reached for the latch, his fingers quick. "Scramble, little horseman! Let's see you run!" He flicked the latch open, the stall door swinging wide, and the colt bolted, its hooves pounding the floor as it darted into the courtyard beyond, its mane flying.
Duhshasana clapped his hands, his voice shrill and wild as he jumped up and down, his tunic flapping. "Run! Look at it go, brother—fast!" He giggled louder, his fair hair bouncing, and he darted to the stable's edge, his small fists pumping with glee.
Nakula raced in from the courtyard, his tunic flapping as he skidded to a stop, his dark eyes wide. His voice came out soft and coaxing, his hands outstretched as he stepped toward the colt. "Easy, Brown. Come here—slow now." He moved forward, his fair curls catching the lantern light, his steps careful and calm.
Sahadeva appeared behind him, his quieter voice murmuring as he joined Nakula, his small hands raised. "Steady, Brown. Back to us—nice and easy." He glanced at his twin, his dark eyes steady, and they moved together, their gentle calls blending in the dusk air.
Bhima barreled through the stable door, his broad frame filling the space, his bare feet thudding against the floor. His voice roared, gruff and cheerful as he planted himself in the colt's path, his arms spread wide. "Move, horse! I'll catch it—stand back!" He grinned, his dark curls bouncing, and the hay scattered as he shifted, his bulk a wall against the colt's charge.
Arjuna climbed a post near the stall, his bow slung over his shoulder, his voice sharp and bright as he nocked an arrow. "Catch it? I'll herd it—watch this!" He aimed low, the arrow's tip glinting, and he fired it into the ground ahead of the colt, steering it back with a quick shout.
Yudhishthira stepped in from the courtyard, his patched tunic swaying, his voice calm and steady as he raised a hand. "Nakula, Sahadeva—guide it. Bhima, block the gate. Arjuna, one more shot if it turns. Together now—bring it home." He stood at the stable's edge, his dark eyes tracking the colt, his quiet commands cutting through the chaos.
Duryodhana laughed, his voice loud and fierce as he leaned against a stall, his smirk twisting. "Home? It's gone—look at 'em flop! Little horseman's lost it!" He crossed his arms, his small frame bristling, and the lantern light flickered across his dark tunic.
Duhshasana giggled again, his voice shrill and quick as he clapped, his fair hair falling into his eyes. "Lost it! Run, horse—keep going!" He hopped onto a bale of hay, his small hands waving, and his wild cheers echoed through the stables.
Nakula moved closer, his voice soft and soothing as he reached out, his fingers brushing the colt's flank. "There you are, Brown. Back with me—nice and slow." The colt slowed, its ears flicking, and he smiled, his fair curls bouncing as he guided it toward the stall.
Sahadeva stepped beside him, his voice quiet and warm as he murmured, his small hands steady. "Good boy, Brown. In you go—safe now." He glanced at Nakula, his nod slight, and they eased the colt forward, their gentle touch a tether in the dusk.
Bhima shifted, his voice gruff and bold as he blocked the gate, his arms flexing. "Safe? I've got it—no running past me!" He grinned, his broad frame unmoving, and the colt turned, its hooves scuffing the ground as it headed back.
Arjuna fired another arrow, its thud landing just behind the colt, and his voice rang out, sharp and quick. "Turned it! Back you go—my aim's perfect!" He leapt down, his small frame landing lightly, and he slung his bow back, his grin wide as the crowd outside murmured.
Yudhishthira nodded, his voice calm and firm as he stepped closer, his hands clasped. "Good work—stall it now. Together, like I said." He watched the colt ease into the stall, his dark eyes steady, and the Pandavas moved as one, their unity a seamless dance in the lantern glow.
Duryodhana's smirk faded, his voice fierce and low as he kicked a bucket, its clang ringing out. "Together? Rubbish—they're fools! That horse should've trampled 'em!" He clenched his fists, his dark tunic creasing, and his glare burned across the stable.
Shakuni limped closer, his cane tapping slower, his voice sly and soft as he tilted his head. "Fools, maybe. But quick fools, nephew. They've got it back—pity." His grin soured, his black robes swishing, and he leaned against a post, his amusement fading.
Duhshasana jumped off the bale, his voice shrill and wild as he pointed, his fair hair bouncing. "Trample 'em! Should've run—stupid horse!" He kicked the hay, his small frame trembling, and the stable tensed with Duryodhana's thwarted glee.
Nakula latched the stall, his voice soft and bright as he patted the colt's nose, his relief clear. "There you go, Brown. All good now—stay put." He turned to Sahadeva, his smile warm, and the colt nickered, its mane settling.
Sahadeva nodded, his voice quiet and steady as he glanced at Nakula, his small hands resting on the stall. "Put, yes. He's fine—us too." He smiled faintly, his dark eyes meeting his twin's, and their bond glowed in the dusk light.
Bhima laughed, his voice loud and cheerful as he stepped back, dusting his hands. "Fine? Better than fine—I stopped it cold! Little prince didn't see that coming!" He grinned, his broad frame looming, and the crowd outside cheered, their voices drifting in.
Arjuna slung his bow over his shoulder, his voice sharp and teasing as he hopped beside Bhima, his grin wide. "Stopped it? My arrows turned it—you're just a big wall! Good team, huh?" He clapped Bhima's arm, his small hands quick, and the stable hummed with their success.
Yudhishthira stepped forward, his voice calm and steady as he glanced at his brothers, his tunic swaying. "Team, yes. Well done—all of you. That's how we work." He turned to the stall, his dark eyes thoughtful, and the Pandavas' unity steadied the air.
Duryodhana kicked the bucket again, its clang sharper, and his voice snarled, fierce and bitter as he glared at Yudhishthira. "Work? You're pests—fixing your mess! I'll get you next time—watch me!" He stormed toward the courtyard, his fists tight, and Duhshasana followed, his shouts fading.
Shakuni's cane tapped once, his voice low and sly as he watched them go, his grin gone. "Next time, nephew. They're tight—too tight. We'll need more." He limped after, his black robes trailing, and the stable settled, the tension lingering.
Nakula leaned against the stall, his voice soft and proud as he glanced at his brothers, his fair curls catching the light. "More? They won't catch Brown again—right, Sahadeva?" He smiled, his relief blending with pride, and the colt nickered behind him.
Sahadeva nodded, his voice quiet and warm as he stood beside him, his small frame steady. "Right. We're faster—together." He glanced at Yudhishthira, his dark eyes bright, and the Pandavas' bond strengthened, a quiet force in the dusk.
The lanterns flickered, hay rustling as the stables calmed, the Pandavas' seamless dance a stark contrast to Duryodhana's fuming retreat. The air pulsed with their growing clash, Shakuni's scheme backfiring in the shadows.