#amarsena

Upon his return to the royal palace many found Amarendra Baahubali a changed man. He was much the same as he had always been, confident and strong, and ever-smiling, but now his personality seemed to have been magnified tenfold. His majestic voice contained even more authority and determination as he delivered his speeches to the court, forever speaking of the plight of his people and his solutions to their problems. In private, his booming laugh could be heard throughout the halls and his playful grin was always present as he regaled his company with tales of his exploits. The stories of his adventures, however, ceased at the Northern border with Kuntala, though his family knew he had spent much time in the kingdom of their allies. That was where Rajamatha’s summons had reached him, after all.

“Living among our people has served you well, Bahu,” She observed one day after a particularly impassioned speech of his on the necessity of infrastructure. “Tell me, what has changed you so,” He was more a king than ever, Sivagami noted with satisfaction, he had truly become himself, but what had evoked such a change?

“Love, Amma,” Amarendra replied fondly, and that had been sufficient for Rajamatha. Love had always been the guiding force behind Baahubali. Love for his mother, love for his brother, love for their kingdom and it’s people. His shared experiences with their subjects would have enhanced his devotion, of course.

That, however, was not it. Yes, love was the reason behind Baahubali’s fruition, but not a newfound love for his people. He had already understood the common folk well, and his kind heart had belonged to them long before his time among them. Love of another kind had now gripped his heart, and consequently his soul and very being, so that now he was who he was meant to be. Perhaps if he had been given more time in Kuntala then his mother would understand who had claimed his heart.

Amarendra’s newfound maturity into kinghood meant that his new suggestions came as no surprise. As preparations for his coronation were being finalised, he made many suggestions. The idea that the royal families of the surrounding nations be invited came alongside his insistence on the construction of new public wells throughout the kingdom and the creation of public gardens so as to return nature to the city and add trees to the stone. No one suspected anything, except Kattappa. Even Sivagami Devi passed off the request as Bahu taking initiative on international diplomacy. He had never taken an interest in foreign policy before, but neither had he been interested in civil engineering before his travels, so it did not seem out of the ordinary. Besides, Amarendra Baahubali would surely not have ulterior motives in anything he did, despite what his trickster grin occasionally suggested.

“Most of those that have accepted the invitations are kings with too many daughters,” Bhalla scoffed one day as one of the ministers read aloud the list of foreign dignitaries that would be attending the coronation, all of whom had thought to bring female relatives of marital age.

“As is expected,” His mother replied, “Who would make such a long and tedious journey with nothing to gain from it?” The truth was that the news that Rajamatha Sivagami Devi was searching for a daughter-in-law had spread like wildfire, and every sensible ruler on the continent was clamouring for an alliance. Mahishmati was the most powerful kingdom there was, an empire born from military force and sheer will, and to marry a daughter to either one of the sons of Sivagami Devi would bring a guarantee of security unparalleled.

Of course, some of their future guests had been known to Sivagami already and their portrait scrolls were piled up, one on top of the other, on a table in her second audience chamber. Her ministers had lost count of the number of princesses she had rejected, citing one perceived flaw or another, in the pursuit of a suitable wife for her beloved Bahu. Yuvrani Varuni of Madhulaipura was one such spurned princess, who Sivagami thought had lifeless eyes and therefore could not be the queen of Amarendra Baahubali. Now, Rajamatha would see how accurate her statement was, and see if the dispositions of the various princesses matched the characters that had been relayed to her by the ambassadors that had flocked to her court. Perhaps this way was best, after all. How wise of Bahu to suggest the idea.

Amarendra, however, did not spare a thought for Yuvrani Varuni or any other woman besides the princess of Kuntala. A month had passed since he had last seen her, but the crown prince maintained a cheerful disposition. He was sure of her mutual affections, and his heart told him that nothing would stand in their way of joining together forever. He had decided that she would be his life partner, had given himself to her fully - even if she was not aware of his feelings - and if she returned his love then together their determination could move oceans. The knowledge warmed his heart, and he anticipated, with some amusement, the arrival of the royal delegation of Kuntala.

His plans, however, required a little altering when Mahismati’s esteemed guests proved resistant. The Raja of Udayagiri had been scandalised by the idea of his unmarried daughters residing in the home of a man who was not family, if even for a short time and with him accompanying her, and had insisted on seperate living quarters for himself, his daughters and his retinue. Sivagami Devi requested that Bhallala Deva relinquish the spring palace to lodge them, when it became clear that there was no place for them within the city walls, which he begrudgingly conceded. It was then decided that the royals of Udayagiri, Madhulaipura, Vijayapuri, Trayambaka and Kuntala would all be settled in the spring palace for their time in Mahishmati, as the royal palace did not have sufficient room to house the entirety of the guests in suitable accommodation befitting their statuses. It was at this point that Kattappa thought it best to raise the topic with Baahubali.

“Do not worry, Mama,” Amarendra assured him. “It will all be well,” His relaxed and optimistic manner typical of the man he was before, but amplified. With his beloved, he did not think he needed to worry about anything. His opinion on this, however, changed when it was the day before his coronation and yet he had heard no word of the Kuntala company except that they had reached the spring palace had had begun the short trip to the city. Baahubali watched the growing number of tents pitched outside the city walls anxiously, eyes searching for the blue banner with the white swan that had decorated the halls of Raja Jaya Varma’s palace. Even Bhalla, who’s relationship with his brother had become strained and distant since the battle against the Kalakeyas, noticed that something was strange. The elder prince had become withdrawn in the days leading up to his brother’s coronation, when he would hailed a commander instead of a king, but he abandoned the shadows for a moment to confront his brother.

“You are surely not having doubts about tomorrow, Baahubali, are you?” He asked, joining his brother in his vigil on the city walls, keen eyes searching the tents for whatever Baahubali looked for.

“No,” His brother insisted, his attention now turned to Bhalla as he blinked, seemingly surprised at the suggestion. “No, I do not worry over what tomorrow brings,”

“Then what troubles you, brother? You are about to be king but this does not phase you, what could possibly concern you now?”

“Our guests,” He said at last.

“Princesses leaving their homes in anything but a wedding procession is unprecedented for many,” Bhalla agreed, missing his brother’s cryptic meaning. “Some rulers wonder if you intend to take them all as wives,” He teased with a grin, but Baahubali visibly balked at the idea. “Such things are not unheard of,”

“But they are rare, and I have no interest in them,” It seems that you have no interest in one wife, Bhalla thought, letting Amma chose for you. He kept the thought to himself.

“Well, I think perhaps I should leave now. I see dust on the horizon, more guests are arriving,” Bhalla said, glad of a chance to leave the strange conversation he had entered into. Welcoming all the various foreign dignitaries was his last duty before becoming commander, and so he went to find more majestic attire as his brother remained on the walls, eyes now fixed on the approaching convoy. His heart leaped when he recognised the banners, and hurried to a more suitable place to watch the retinue make it’s way through the streets of the city.

Many of the royal guests came from lands Baahubali had forgotten he knew of, and many of the people had never heard of them at all, but Kuntala, the kingdom of rivers, was a close neighbour and most knew of it. The procession was met with cheers and shouts, which grew larger when the palanquin was seen, welcoming yet another princess with cries of joy. Everyone in the kingdom knew that their king would find a queen among the guests.

From his perch on one of the garden terraces, Amarendra recognised King Jaya Varma and Kumara Varma leading the processions in finery that surpassed anything he had seen them wear in the comfort of their own halls. Then, the crowd grew even louder and the palanquin came into view. It was not the same one she used on her supposed pilgrimage to the temple where they fought off the Pindari’s, it was far, far grander. The silver plated iron had been wrought in the shape of twins swans, encrusted with blue and green jewels that sparkled in the hot Mahishmati sun, and Baahubali recalled vividly the first time he saw her, beautiful and terrible in the midst of battle. At that moment he thought he grew to love her even more.

As the palanquin made it’s ascension to the royal palace - her future home, Amarendra thought with a smile - he hurried to keep up, reaching the palace at the same time the procession did. It was all he could do not to reveal himself then and there, as the palanquin entered the inner courtyard outside the throne room and she was obscured from view, entering the hall. Baahubali settled for waiting outside the doors as the Kuntala delegation presented themselves before Rajamatha and Bhallala Deva. The throne room was large, almost impossibly so, in order for all the ministers, merchants, generals and ambassadors to attend when the kings before them held court. His many teachers had told him that it was the largest room ever built, excluding the great temple of Mahishmati, and so the sounds coming from the far side of the room at the foot of the thrones were indistinguishable from the dry movements of the leaves in the wind. Still, he waited, while what remained of the Kuntala delegation studied him closely. They recognised him vaguely, he reminded them of a lowborn simpleton who was in the service of the royal household for a month or so, perhaps everyone in Mahishmati looked the same after all.

Amarendra joined the growing crowd of the numerous lords and ministers who did not have the luck to reach the throne room in time, hoping to gain anonymity in them. His efforts were in vain, even if it was not for their deferential actions towards him Amarendra Baahubali is always noticeable. He had begun a rather casual chat with one of the junior ministers, who was surprised by the familiar way the future king conducted himself with him, when the doors swung open and the king of Kuntala stepped out, his sister at his side. She gave a sweeping glance to the group that had gathered outside, and paused when her eyes lock on Amarendra within seconds. He saw a single word pass her lips before she was out of sight once more. Shivdu.