Bhima and Hidimba - Love in the Forest

She had been sent to kill him. Her brother Hidimba—the demon lord of this forest—had smelled human flesh and sent her to prepare the meal.

But when she found him sleeping, she stopped.

He was beautiful. Not in the way rakshasas understood beauty—delicate, vulnerable. He was beautiful the way a storm is beautiful. Power barely contained. Danger wearing human skin.

She changed her form. Became something softer. Approached.

Bhima: "You're not human,"

Bhima said without opening his eyes.

Hidimba: "How did you know?"

Bhima: "Humans don't smell like blood and jasmine at the same time. What are you?"

Hidimba: "Rakshasi. My brother rules this forest. He sent me to—"

She hesitated.

Bhima: "To kill us. Eat us. Something along those lines."

Hidimba: "Yes."

Bhima: "And now?"

Hidimba: "Now I'm looking at you and wondering why I feel nothing like killing."

Bhima studied her. The disguise was good—soft curves, gentle eyes—but he could see through it to the predator beneath.

Bhima: "Show me your real form."

Hidimba: "It would frighten you."

Bhima: "Nothing frightens me. Show me."

She changed. Grew. Her skin darkened, her teeth sharpened, her hair became wild flame. She was terrifying and magnificent—a creature of primal forest and ancient hunger.

Bhima: "Better, Now I know who I'm talking to."

Hidimba: "You're not afraid?"

Bhima: "I've met demons before. Killed a few. You're beautiful, but you're not the scariest thing I've seen."

Hidimba: "What is the scariest thing you've seen?"

Bhima: "My mother's face when she thought we would die in that burning house. That's fear. You're just impressive."

Hidimba found herself smiling—a strange expression for a demon about to report failure.

Hidimba: "My brother will come. When I don't return with meat, he'll come himself."

Bhima: "Then I'll kill him."

Hidimba: "Just like that?"

Bhima: "Just like that. But first— —tell me your name."

Hidimba: "Hidimba. Same as my brother."

Bhima: "Not very imaginative."

Hidimba: "Our parents weren't known for creativity. Why aren't you running? Gathering your family? Preparing to fight?"

Bhima: "Because you're not going to hurt us. I can see it. Whatever you were sent to do, you've already decided not to do it."

Hidimba: "You can't know that."

Bhima: "I know hunger. I know killing intent. You have neither right now. You have something else—curiosity, maybe. Interest."

Hidimba: "Interest."

Bhima: "In me. Why?"

Hidimba: "I don't know. You're not like humans I've seen before. They're usually weak. Screaming. Running. You're sitting there like I'm an unexpected guest instead of a death sentence."

Bhima: "Maybe I like unexpected guests."

The roar came from the forest—Hidimba's brother, impatient and hungry. Bhima cracked his knuckles.

Hidimba: "Wait here. I'll be right back."

Bhima: "You're going to fight him alone?"

Hidimba: "Unless you want to help. He is your brother."

Hidimba: "He was going to eat you. I was supposed to help him. And now... Now I find myself not wanting to."

Bhima: "Then don't. Sit. Watch. Decide what you want after."

He walked into the forest. The sounds that followed were brutal—crashes, roars, the wet sounds of violence. And then silence.

Bhima returned, barely winded, covered in blood that wasn't his.

Hidimba: "Your brother is dead."

Bhima: "I know."

Hidimba: "Are you angry?"

Bhima: "I should be. He was family. But he was also cruel. He would have eaten your mother, your brothers, and then me eventually. Family only matters when it protects you. He never protected me."

Hidimba: "Then stay. With us. With me."

Bhima: "You barely know me."

Hidimba: "I know you didn't kill me when you could have. I know you're strong enough to survive this forest. I know I want to know more."

Bhima: "Your mother will never accept a rakshasi."

Hidimba: "My mother accepts survival. That's what you are—survival with sharp teeth."

Hidimba laughed—a sound that shook trees.

Bhima: "I'll stay. For now. Until the forest gets boring."

Hidimba: "Then let's make sure it doesn't."

It was the strangest courtship in history. And somehow, one of the truest.