The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

Some Timeless Unecessarily Lakshman-centric stuff

The day was a bright one. The sun, so golden that it made Sita's hair shine, peeked through the thick leaves. The rain had suddenly stopped falling, and Ram tentatively peeked out of the cabin, blue eyes gleaming and face smiling as nary a drop fell from the sky. He picked up his bow, large and regal, and stepped outside the doorway, where he spotted Sita, picking berries, and occasionally, popping one into her mouth.

He spotted an opportunity, and a large grin spread across his face. Slowly, steadily, silently, he crept closer, closer and closer, until he finally reached the area where she stood up, and grabbed her shoulders from behind. "EEK!" Sita squeaked, dropping her basket of berries so that the red missiles, ripe and mushy, flew into the air and landed in her hair and Ram's face, that they looked stained with blood.

"Why would you do that?" Sita cried, smacking his arm with a mixture of playfulness and anger. "Why on Earth would you do that? Look, it has ruined all of my hard work." she pouted at him, before leaning down to pick up the berries. "I spent hours upon hours picking these, Ram, you really should not have done that." she sniffled, picking up her basket and putting it on her arm, before scowling at him.

"Okay! Okay! I am sorry, I truly am. It was wrong of me to surprise you like that, and I will not do it ever again!" Ram apologized, hands raised into the air." Sita turned away from him stubbornly, and Ram felt a tiny tumor of sadness grow in his heart. "Aww, Sita, please forgive me." He hugged her from behind, and she patted his cheek good-naturedly, a tiny, pleased blush spreading across her face. "Puh-leeeeeeze!" Ram squealed, sounding just like a toddler Shatrughan imploring his mother to let him play some more.

"Oh alright, you little nuisance! Alright! Here, I'll tell you this, the only reason I was angry is that those berries marred your handsome face." she admitted. Ram, surprised at this romantic overture, laughing, jumped into the air in victory, and danced around the hut. She had never acted so romantic before, not since they had left the palace, anyways. And Sita never said things like that so boldly either! Anyways, Ram found a reason to celebrate that day.

Sita stared at him as the sun shone on his face in radiant beams, reflecting off of him as the sunlight did the moon. He reminded her, in that very moment, of Shatrughan, in the way he was acting right then. Goofy, emotional, and childish. How he must not be like that anymore, how he would have to be serious and emotionless. She missed the prince, whom she considered to be like a younger brother. Speaking of which, where was her other younger brother, the one that had accompanied them? The one that usually stayed around their camp, watchful eyes just waiting to spot a demon to rip apart.

"Arya?" she asked urgently, and all the smiles disappeared off Ram's face immediately as he turned towards her, raising an eyebrow in questioning. "Where is Lakshman bhaiyya? I could not see him this morning, and I can't find him in the nearby forest! Do you know where he is? He never goes anywhere without permission unexpectedly unless it is urgent, of course." Ram paled at this reason, and all of his dancing whatsoever stopped as he paced closer towards her, clutching his bow with a death grip. His knuckles turned an ivory white, and SIta winced at how tight they were.

"That is true, Sitae. I have not seen him this morning either, and usually he comes promptly for breakfasting time. I-I cannot pretend that I know where he is, to be honest," Ram brooded for a second. Random thoughts, however unreasonable they were, popped into his head. He could do anything for Lakshman, and that included being unreasonable. Was his brother hurt? Was he in danger somewhere? Was he in trouble, and was Ram spending precious time thinking when he could be helping him, when he could be searching for him? These very thoughts stopped Ram's heart, and he immediately grabbed his quiver from the front porch of the cottage.