A/N-I have mixed feelings about this one-
It all started with a small piece of wood. Well, that's a story for another day. No, it all started when Lakshman spotted a beautiful flower in the garden, and decided that this was the gift he was going to give his mother, Sumitra, for her birthday. Not the flower itself, mind you, but an infinite preservation of it; in simpler terms, Lakshman, the third-born Prince of Ayodhya, had decided to carve this flower out of a chunk of wood.
He was no stranger to carving. He loved to do it, despite all of his so-called toughly growled complaints about art, and detail, and time. He loved to carve things. He thought of it as a preservation of things that were soon to disappear. Lakshman was an ominous sort of a person. He thought everything would disappear someday, either everything would waste away soon, or he would.
The problem was, whenever he was making a birthday gift for anyone, his stupid, idiotic, good-for-nothing twin, Shatrughan would always pop up and try to surprise him. Normally, he never succeeded (Lakshman prided himself in being never scared of anything in life). Or, rather, the only thing he succeeded in was accidentally making Lakshman drop the knife and cut the carpet and/or cut himself. Usually, it was and.
Well that day, he was determined. No twin of his would ever disturb him! And that was why Lakshman, hidden away in his private chambers (which he had only received after a lot of begging his mother, who wanted Shatrughan and him to have the same room on accords of camaraderie. How Lakshman wanted to tell her that they could never be good friends, because as soon as that natkhat earned his trust, he would do something stupid like paint his face with red or something.
-----O----
Ram, the first-born, was busy. Ram was always busy. This or that. He was the crown prince, after all, and at sixteen years old, fresh out of his school, Ram had many duties, especially from his father, Raja Dasharath, who insisted upon teaching him every single thing there ever was to know about ruling. Lakshman ran up to him, holding something behind his back. "Yes?" Ram asked calmly, setting down his bow. 'What is it lakshman? I haven't seen you so happy in...." Ram trailed off. "Ever."
Because there Lakshman was, beaming at him. And then Lakshman held forward a delicately carved rose out of wood. Ram took it with wide eyes, examining it before clapping Lakshman on the shoulder. "Papa has invited me on a one-on-one hunting trip, and bhaiyya, could you keep it safe please?" Ram nodded, and Lakshman ran off again, before retracing his footsteps back.
"You see bhaiyya, I'm only trusting you with this because Shatrughan would have lost it for sure, and Bharat would have been too busy painting that he might have even splattered blues and greens over it, and Maa Sumitra loves red, so I need to paint it red, because a blue rose is a useless rose so-" Ram pushed him towards the way of the forest before Dasharath accidentally rode off impatiently, forgetting about his son.
-----O-----
Ram set the statue on the nightstand beside his bed thoughtfully, before walking out of the room. "I wonder why Lakshman was so overtly happy." he murmured to himself. "I mean, he likes hunting, but he does that all the time. So why was he so happy today?" And suddenly, the answer clicked. "That must be it! Lakshman's never been hunting only with Papa before! It must be exciting!" Ram scratched the back of his head. "Which is weird, seeing as he's fourteen and the most enthusiastic out of all of us."
But Ram stopped pondering this and began to walk around the hallways of the palace once more, trying his hand at supervising and monitoring the peace. The palace in Ayodhya was always a pleasant place. If the thousands of people the palace employed were no attestment to it, then the steady and excited buzz of chatter that was produced in each and every room, from the sizzles of boiling oil in the kitchens to the carefree humming of the gardener-well, if Ram knew one thing, it was that the palace would never be quiet.
And it was right then when Shatrughan came running up, his raucous and snorting laughter clashing loudly with the light noise before. "Bhaiyya, hide me!" he cried, running behind Ram as Bharat skidded to a stop in front of him, his arms crossed and his lip curled. "Bhaiyya, Bharat is chasing me for no reason! Smack some sense into him, would you? He just made up his mind to trouble me this fine day!"
Bharat opened his mouth wide, his brows furrowed. "Just made up my mind to trouble you, did I? That seems to describe you better, you monkey! You stole my paint brushes, for what must be the umpteenth time this day." Bharat shook his fist as if he was in court and some manner of great injustice had been meted against him. "Besides, it should be me who is smacking some sense into you!"
"Woah woah woah." Ram quickly blocked Bharat's path as he went to hit Shatru. "We don't do that here. Brotherly violence is a strict no-no." Ram paused. "Well actually, Lakshman seems to break that rule often, so maybe not. We can't do anything about that though. But still! Non-Lakshman brotherly violence is a big no-no! You, Shatru, why were you laughing if Bharat had trouble you for no reason? And you, Bharat, when did you suddenly become so angry? Something wrong?"
All troubles, stolen paint brushes or otherwise, were forgotten as Bharat gaped at Ram. "You'd be the best king ever, bhaiyya. I could be the courtesan of arts and music, Shatrughan could be the people's ambassador, and Lakshman could be the Army General-speaking of which, where is he? I've barely even seen you two apart, it's as if you're the twins among us, and not he and Shatru."
Ram rolled his eyes. "I do wonder how they're from the same mother sometimes, if it weren't for their looks. Lakshman's gone hunting with Papa, and left us all alone with no one to shout at us." Bharat pouted. "He's left me something though, a little rose carving." Shatrughan made kissy faces. "For Maa Sumitra." Bharat burst into laughter and smacked Shatrughan's head. "You all should see it. It's nice. I've kept it on my nightstand."
-----O-----
"Where is it?" Bharat asked. Ram stared at the empty spot, heart racing. Just marble, none of the delicate wood. "Where is the carving, bhaiyya?" Ram whirled around, his skin paler than ever, which was hard to tell. Shatrughan first made out what Ram felt, and he burst into a coughing fit. Ram had lost the statue that Lakshman had spent a few weeks on, now. And he couldn't make another one; Maa Sumitra's birthday was the next day.
Bharat and Shatrughan exchanged a look as Ram fell back on his bed. His entire body seemed tense and stiff. Bharat cleared his throat and walked forward. "Well, bhaiyya, we'll help you look. It couldn't have gone far, it's not as if it developed legs and...." Bharat trailed off, before clearing his throat once more and trying again. "Besides, bhaiyya, it's just a statue, just a statue, not a priceless heirloom or anything. You know Lakshman will forgive you-"
"But I've lost his trust!" Ram exclaimed, and Shatrughan sighed, his head in his hands. Normally, Ram was calm and mild. And then sometimes (usually when it came to Lakshman doing something, or Lakshman being something, or Lakshman saying something), he was the most melodramatic man who ever lived, and everyone had to keep a six feet distance from him (social distancing), and a box of tissues at hand just in case he started to cry.
But before this happened, usually one of his brothers intervened. "COME ON BHAIYYA!" Shatrughan cried, jumping up and down. "Maybe we can still find it in time!" He grabbed one shoulder of Ram's, and Bharat grabbed the other and they dragged him throughout the palace. First stop: well, as of this point, they really didn't know where. Until Shatrughan brought something up. "What about the maids and cleaners?" Correction. First Stop: Maids and Cleaners.
The maids and the cleaners were everywhere, but Ram knew which ones cleaned his room. He headed over to the North 'servantory', and found old Buri Ammammamma. Amma Amma Amma because Ram was pretty sure that she was older than his own grandmother. "Pranam Miss Ammammamma," he began, folding his hands together. "Remember that small statue on my nightstand?" The raisin nodded. "Where is it?"
"Awww, child. Lakshu-" Shatrughan died. "-loves making those pretty little things, doesn't he? I assumed this one was for Sumi-" Bharat burst into a suspiciously giggly coughing fit. "So I put it on her plate. You know how much she loves stuff from her sons, Lakshu and Ghanu." Ram could barely control his smile. "Have a good day, Ramu Babu," Bharat widened his eyes. and tell Harathi to continue her painting!" The princes ran away before they could laugh.
"But, it was supposed to be a surprise." Ram muttered, before his eyes widened. "QUICK! Maa Sumitra's mail is going to reach her in-" he glanced towards the clock. "-1 minute!" Ram bit his nails. "Lakshman is going to kill us if that thing reaches Maa Sumitra before her actual birthday. Let's go!" The three raced towards the room, just as the man was a foot away from the doorway. Bharat practically shoved Shatrughan forward. "They'll listen to you, Maa Sumitra's guardsmen from Kashi will listen to you."
Shatrughan quickly ran and blocked the path of the approaching man. "Hi!" he squeaked, and before the guard had a chance to greet him as well, he folded his arms. "So, you see what happened. A package that was supposed to go to me, is accidentally placed in this box of mail, because you know, me and Maa are practically clones of each other, you know? Red hair, light eyes, curly, bangs-"
The guard raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, yeah. That sounds right. We're clones of each other. So you'd better give me that before Maa notices." The guard pulled the package of mail only closer to himself, and Shatrughan gritted his teeth. "It's a package from my-um-sweetheart. From another kingdom. You know how angry maa would become if she saw that. Come on! Haven't you ever had a secret correspondence with a lady?"
With that, Shatrughan snatched the package and ran off. Sweating heavily, he handed it to Bharat, who examined all of the boxes painstakingly. "There's no carved rose in here." he murmured, his brows furrowing angrily. Then, he looked up in horror. "When Buri Amma...Amma...Amma, said to send it to Sumi, she didn't mean via food, right?" Ram coughed, and again, they ran towards the kitchens, only to find that Maa Sumitra's daily lunch had already departed the room.
"Hey, did you see a little rose, about yay high?" Ram asked, walking forward, his eyes imploring. The chef nodded, setting aside her spoon and bowing down low to the three princes, one of whom looked mad, searching for roses.
"Yes. We threw it away." Ram fainted as Shatrughan quickly caught him, collapsing himself, and Bharat dragged them both out with an apologetic smile towards their collective rooms, where Ram burst into tears.
"We lost it! We've lost it forever, and now Lakshman will never forgive me, and he'll never like me, and he'll probably ignore me for the rest of my life because I'm the most terrible, horrible, no good, very bad brother ever, I'm worse than any demon, and I wish I could die and-" Bhrat put his head into his hands as Shatrughan groaned, but Ram didn't seem to notice as he continued to mutter insane ideas to himself.
"I bet he's going to forever declare me only his half-brother. He's going to hit me or something isn't he? No, he wouldn't hit his elders, he's going to say terrible things to me! I'll have ruined his life, haven't I? I can't marry, I'm too terrible! I can't ever rule, Bharat, I'm way too irresponsible. What if he hurts himself? WHAT IF MAA SUMITRA GETS MAD AT HIM?! It'll all be my fault, and I'll have been the most terrible person and-"
"Who?" Lakshman asked, standing in the doorway, folding his arms. "You? Why would you be terrible?" He strolled in thoughtfully, sitting down on the ground beside Ram's feet, his eyebrows furrowing. "What happened bhaiyya? Did someone die? Did Shatrughan or Bharat do something? No, they wouldn't." Lakshman rubbed his chin thoughtfully as Ram looked up in horror. "By the way, about that wooden rose-"
Shatrughan winced. "Yeah, I found it fallen down next to your nightstand. Nice hiding place." Of course. Ammammamma was old and crazy. And Sumitra liked flowers in her food, just not roses, so the chef threw those away.
A/N-So, here's something funny. Yesterday I made an announcement about me not updating on weekends, because I can barely write on weekends. WELL, not only did that announcement not post, but I'm updating on a weekend. Why? Because you people are nice readers, oki?
By the way-that little Lakshu part in the middle? Full credit goes to @J13S10, who first started it in her book "Unbreakable Bonds", all about the brothers' relationships. She's literally the funniest author ever (tied with @lakshmila4ardi). CHECK HER BOOK OUT!
Would any of you object to some good 'ol twins before-exile after-marriage fluff? Because now I've become inspired. By the way, I need to write more about Bharat and Ram in this book, because now this is just becoming more about the twins than anything, and that idea was taken by-ahem ahem-
@Ridhima123_ in her book "The Saumitras" OS about the twins. So check her book out while you're at it.
By the way, if you are @lakshmila4ardi, @Ridhima123_, or one of those folks that PM with @Ramayana_lover, make sure that you let her know that I have posted my chapter for inspiration and NOW SHE NEEDS TO UPD-actually, let the poor gal watch her cricket. She needs a break.