like yes he’s the softest and nicest guy but at the same time he’s insane when it comes to devasena
we talk about the head cutting scene but often forget that right before that scene we see that baahu lost his shit simply when he saw his wife in chains like he was just looking for a person to pounce on and a reason at that point and this was prior to him knowing about the attempted groping
posting because i saw a clip of the scene just now and ?? if looks could kill those chains would’ve melted instantly the way he was glaring at them and he’s literally never looked at anyone even kalakeya the way he was glaring at them lmao
perfectly matched the woman who survived 25 years of torture out of sheer spite and hatred for the man who killed her husband and fantasized about burning the guy alive and what he would scream like
in conclusion possessive power couple who make it other peoples problem amarsena
i need a fic where baahu survives and sees the way devasena got treated afterwards and goes batshit insane and kills a bunch of people where is it
that shot of amarendra baahubali in the climax behind mahendra as he stabs bhalla? baahu definitely manifested in that moment out of sheer rage i know that man was PISSED (also separate hc that may become its own post but the godly force driving mahendra’s actions was not shiva but amarendra’s spirit)
Devasena huffed as she cradled her swollen belly and swiftly walked towards the Chambers where Bahubali; her Husband and the King of Mahishmati, and Bhallaladeva, her elder brother figure and Commander of Mahishmati's army were planning something.
Things had gone awry when Devasena had took her firm stand up in front of Sivagami Devi, angering the Queen Mother in front of Whole Court. It was surprising, though, to see that Bhallaladeva confessed he didn't wish to marry Devasena anymore, and that Bahubali can marry her.
It would have led to civil war, but Bhallaladeva confronted Sivagami Devi which hurt her sentiments and the big ego she was growing back then, and the woman had declared that Bahubali will be crowned King and Bhallaladeva as Commander, but it came with consequences.
Bijjaladeva disowned his son.
Not that anyone cared, though.
The change in Bhallaladeva surprised both Devasena; who felt he was a snobby arrogant manchild and Bahubali, who was just happy his older brother was back. The two were though confused that who caused this change, and the day they found the answer when the Annual Jagadambika Poojan for nine days started.
The temple amidst intricate carvings and an aura of oil lamps lit up with a rhythmic sound of drums when Bhallaladeva, the fierce and imposing Commander of the Mahishmati Armed Forces, reached the place to join in the auspicious Pooja. There would stand courtiers, priests and noblemen, watching with reverence as the life within the temple, that earthly representative of divine power, the culture surrounding the kingdom.
As Pooja began, his thoughts strayed from rituals and chants toward the grand hall's center where a dancer moved with an entrancing grace. She was Manjari, a dusky-skinned Priestess whose movements turned into poetry, her anklets chiming with every step. She was dressed in red and gold, eyes glittering with a fire that almost matched the flames dancing upon the torches that supported the temple; and so living for the spirit of the goddess she adored. Bhallaladeva, sedate and poised as always, was entranced by Manjari's dance.
He saw each movement unfold as an expression of love and mystery, leading him deep into a trance. Her dance was much more than an art; it was a prayer, a powerful invoking to command every soul there to pay attention. For Bhallaladeva, the man of war and strategy, hardened, it was a profoundly spiritual experience to watch Manjari's ethereal dance.
He was exposed to the emotion-wrenching look in her eyes, the soft yet powerful dance of her figure, and the way that the mere presence of a person seemed to command the space. Amidst the blowing of conch shells and rising smoke of incense, Bhallaladeva came to realize that he was not observing something; but rather he was entranced by thin threads of invisibility connecting him to the divine priestess who danced as if she was calling the gods themselves to bear testimony to her devotion.
Devasena and Bahubali, both were elated that Bhallaladeva loved someone, and even helped him most of the times. Manjari was a Devadasi, hence even Sivagami didn't oppose her coming to Palace to see Devasena as she was pregnant, since a Devadasi is considered auspicious.
But right now, the danger looming over Manjari's head was something which scared Devasena.
The Princess of Kunthala reached the heavy doors and took a deeo breath, commanding the doors to be opened. Once they did, the occupants of room lookes at her. "Devasena? What are you doing here?" Bahubali asked as he and Bhallaladeva ran to her, making her sit on a Couch. Randev, Bahubali's friend brought a tumbler of water and handed it to Devasena.
"Bhalla! You have to run to Shiva Temple right now! Manjari! She's in danger!" Devasena exclaimed, her eyes wide. "What are you saying Devasena? Why will Manjari be in danger?" Bhallaladeva asked. "Rajmata. She wants you to marry the Princess of Simhadhwaja, Princess Yagnika. One of the courtiers told her about you and Manjari, and she has sent Soldiers to.." Bhallaladeva ran out before she could complete her sentence.
.
Manjari was all set to sleep when a shadow outside her hut in Temple sanctum, and the sound of footsteps made her sit straight. Manjari could feel the hammering of her heart in her chest as shadows appeared to move in the faintly lit corners of her room. Then came a whispery rustle of armor; metal faintly glinted, and into this darkness lurked the soldiers, their intent predatory.
Panic ran through her veins. She hastened, those fragile feet not making a sound on the cold marble floor as she slid by the door with her heart pounding with fear and instinct. That temple, once her safe haven, looked now like a trap closing in on her. She ran the maze of temple corridors, taking those ragged, shallow breaths. The soldiers pursued her mercilessly; their footsteps filled the air with an eerie echo of danger nipping at the heels of this poor woman running for life. Her sari fluttered behind her as a banner of defiance yet showed no clear path marked in front. Manjari darted her eyes to and fro searching around for her escape, but every turn took her deeper into the mazes.
Just as she thought she might find her way out, Manjari spun on her heel, the rush of fear fogging her vision, and crashed into something so immovable, so unyielding that it rooted her to the spot. She backpedaled, eyes wide with terror, but when she looked up again she was gazing into Bhallaladeva's face. His towering form filled her entire view, blocking her way out. His gaze, intensive and unreadable, locked onto hers, and the weight of her predicament settled heavily between them.
"Senapathi.." Manjari tearfully hugged him, as The soldiers behind her stopped short, freezing as they saw their doom in Bhallaladeva's eyes.
.
Bhallaladeva's footsteps echoed down the corridors of the palace, hot with indignation. His mind was bubbling over with bitter memories as he moved towards the Shiva Temple to his mother, Sivagami Devi, who was blamed. The Mahishmati kingdom had made her the regal queen mother-words for herself there were law. But to Bhallaladeva, she was a dim silhouette—thick and stern, unforgiving and unsweet. Bhallaladeva recalled how he always wanted his mother's love, even when a child; instead, he would get cold stares and a sharp tongue. Everywhere around him, people went around speaking of his strength and valor, but Sivagami's gaze was always on some fault-finding issue that had never brought across a proud motherly warmth. As he clenched his fists, memories of his childhood rushing back into his mind.
He could still remember all the attempts he had made to win her favor—by mastering the skill of war, performing exceptionally well in his studies, or showcasing his mastery in fights. But all in vain. Sivagami always compared him to his cousin, Amarendra Baahubali, whom she loved like her very son.
Bhallaladeva silently witnessed her when she gushed about everything Baahubali did, offering him that maternal pride Bhallaladeva has always wanted but would never receive. Every smile she threw towards Baahubali felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart as it reminds him of how he shall always be second in her eyes. Meanwhile, recalling the favours of Sivagami, Bhallaladeva ran toward the temple.
He recalled the day he was winning the fight in the ground, but she picked Baahubali, making known her decision that the throne would be bagged by him who served people best and not by him who sought power. The words had hurt him, and he recalled them every moment in his life.
He is not a son to her; on the contrary, he was a brutal man with an insatiable will to dominate, unbefitting the prince for which he had striven for his life. Bhallaladeva did not utter the pain, covering it with layers of ambitions and anger within him, and today the facade was crumbling apart. Before him was the temple, its massive structure jarringly contrasting the chaos within his soul.
Bhallaladeva's breath was laboured, his face screwed up in a snarl as he stormed up the steps, his eyes blazing with the fire of years-long pent-up resentment. This place, consecrated to the god of destruction, seemed apt for the storm that brewed inside him.
Today Bhallaladeva was not marching up to a temple; he was marching against the shackles of his whole life left untouched with scorn and negligence, every stride taken as a defiant act against the mother who never did see him for who he was.
Just as he turned in corner, a horrified Manjari ran into him. Looking in her eyes he realised how scared she was. Her dusky cheeks were red with all the crying, her eyes wide in fear and pain. Clutching her sari around her body, Manjari hugged him tightly. "Manjari, I'm here.. do not worry. Just... Close your eyes. You might not want to see." He said softly and Manjari nodded.
.
Thunder cackled in sky as Sivagami Devi sat on her throne, Bahubali and Devasena sitting nearby. The two were concerned as they waited Bhallaladeva's arrival. Soon the thunder cackled aloud, flashing the corridor in which stood a man holding a sword.
Sivagami Devi looked up, a shiver running down her spine as a bloody sight of a furious Bhallaladeva, and noted the flutter of a plain Red saree behind him. Bhallaladeva moved and her eyes widened when she saw Manjari, her hair partition filled with red Sindoor as he grabbed her hand and pulled her in, the girl looking fearful.
"Mother, meet your daughter-in-law, Manjari." He grinned, a grin which scared the three. Sivagami looked appalled, her wide eyes on Manjari as she looked at her from head to toe, her anger returning. "Bhalla!? What is this!?" She screamed.
Sivagami Devi's voice was at once shrill with indignation and robust as she berated Bhallaladeva with a flare in her eyes. "How dare you go against me to marry that temple dancer, Manjari?" she yelled, her speech loaded with scorn. "I wanted you to marry Yagnika, the Princess of Simhadhwaja, and seal an alliance for Mahishmati!" Her voice was robust, but behind it lay a hollow frustration—Bhallaladeva had gone against her wishes again.
Bhallaaladeva snapped. Climbing to his feet, he shouted into her face, "All my life, I've been nothing but a pawn in your schemes!" His voice was shaking with all the anger he felt, festering over the years. "You cared not for what I wanted, only for what you were about- your ambition. I am done living under your shadow," he said, the bitterness in his words as he confronted a mother who would never see him past his utility.
He took a step forward, eyes blazing with defiance. "I love Manjari," he said, his voice carrying through tension. "She sees me for what I am, not what she can get from me. I married her because she is my choice, not yours. I won't let you dictate my life again." Bold, defiant-a challenge flung at the feet of the woman who had always controlled his fate.
And for one moment, she was left speechless by this tirade, losing all her expression. Bhallaladeva's defiance shattered all the rigid expectations she had always imposed upon the world around her and created a chasm between them that seemed impossible to bridge. She could see him not as the son she had shaped but for the first time ever the man he had become, driven by a love that defied her will.
Sivagami soon moulded her expressions back in the cold one as she stood up. "You also are going like someone who once defied me." Bahubali looked away at that.
"Do not blame Bahu, Mother." Bhallaladeva sneered. "Manjari came in my life way before Devasena came in Bahu's life. And I won't let you dictate my life anymore." Bhallaladeva said. Sivagami stared at them for a moment before fleeting her eyes at Manjari, and left.
"Bhalla, you scared us!" Devasena exclaimed as she waddled fastly towards them and hugged Manjari. "Oh dear, you are so scared. Come, I will take you to room so that you can rest." She said and Manjari numbly nodded, before going with Devasena.
Manjari glanced back at Bhallaladeva, her heart pounding as she took in his imposing figure, drenched in blood from the fierce battle he had fought to protect her. His fierce gaze softened as it met hers, revealing a rare tenderness and love in his eyes. Overwhelmed by the realization of her deep feelings for him, she blushed, her cheeks turning a deep crimson. She gave him a small, shy smile before turning away.
I just realised, Varadha and Devasena have a lot of parallels. Apart from obviously falling in love with a vaguely Prabhas shaped human:
They both spend 25 years being tortured by family, waiting for someone who may as well not remember them/not know they exist/moved on/wont come back; they’re both promised by a heroic figure that they’d return one day to save them and the country; they both get limbs and heads chopped off in a court of law for their honour; they’re both fierce proud beautiful people surrounded by enemies who want to take them down; they’re both people who are clearly born to rule; they both sacrifice everything for love and spend years in hell for it.
