Tara's Wisdom - When the Queen Must Choose

Tara: "Don't go."

Tara stood in the doorway of their chamber, blocking Vali's path. Outside, Sugriva's challenge echoed through Kishkindha.

Vali: "He's my brother. I defeated him once. I'll defeat him again."

Tara: "Something's different. His confidence has changed. He has allies now—I've heard rumors of a human prince, an archer beyond compare."

Vali: "Humans? What can humans do against me? I have Brahma's boon—half the strength of any opponent I face flows to me automatically. I cannot lose in single combat."

Tara: "Then why is Sugriva fighting you again? He knows about the boon. He fled last time. Why return unless something has changed?"

Vali paused. His wife was the wisest creature in Kishkindha—everyone knew it. Her counsel had saved him more times than he could count.

Vali: "What would you have me do? Ignore a challenge? Be called coward?"

Tara: "I would have you investigate first. Send scouts. Find out who these humans are. Fight tomorrow instead of today."

Vali: "And let Sugriva think I'm afraid?"

Tara: "Let Sugriva think you're strategic. Fear and caution are different things. You're stronger than him. You'll always be stronger. One day of patience won't change that."

Vali: "But—"

Tara: "Please. I feel something wrong. I can't explain it, but something in my heart is screaming. I have never been wrong when my heart screams."

Vali looked at her—this brilliant woman who had chosen him over every other monkey king. Who had stood by him through wars and exiles and every challenge.

She was afraid. Genuinely afraid.

Vali: "One hour, I'll go to the edge of the forest and observe. If I see nothing unusual, I fight. If I see these humans, I'll return and we'll plan."

Tara almost smiled.

Tara: "Thank you."

But Vali didn't observe. He reached the forest edge, saw Sugriva, and his rage overtook his promise. He charged.

The arrow came from the shadows.

Rama, hidden behind a tree, shot Vali in the chest. The great monkey king fell, his boon useless against an enemy who wouldn't face him.

Vali: "Why? Why hide? Why not fight me fairly?"

Rama spoke of dharma, of alliances, of Sugriva's cause.

But as Vali died, his only thought was of Tara.

She had warned him. She had begged him. She had known.

And he had let pride overrule her wisdom.

---

Tara arrived to find him dying. She held his head in her lap, weeping.

Vali: "You were right,"

he whispered.

Tara: "I didn't want to be right. I wanted you to live."

Vali: "Promise me— Promise me you'll survive. That you'll protect Angada. That you won't let grief destroy you."

Tara: "I promise."

Vali: "And Tara— When kings come to you for counsel, and they will—tell them to listen to their wives. Tell them that wisdom doesn't care about pride. Tell them—"

He died.

Tara held him for a long time. Then she stood, composed herself, and walked to where Rama waited.

Tara: "You killed my husband from hiding."

Vali: "I did what was necessary."

Tara: "Necessary for your ally. Not for justice. Remember this, prince. Remember that you chose expedience over honor. And when you're asked to trust your own wife, when someone accuses her unjustly—remember that you've already proven what you'll sacrifice for strategy."

Rama had no answer.

Tara walked away—to grieve, to protect her son, to become the counselor that kings would seek for generations.

Some wisdom is only purchased with loss.

Tara had paid the full price.