Genre: Humor

Sixteen-year-old Lakshman was casually stalking down the hallway like the angry warrior prince he was. The day was sunny and the heat overwhelming, but he didn't care much about that, because the interior of Ayodhya's palace was always cool, and the streaky white marble tiles were channeling their inner Antarctica.

Everything was going surprisingly spectacular, or as spectacular as Lakshman's life could go. Until it wasn't, because Lakshman really couldn't seem to catch a break. He heard a ringing clanging of metal. 

Lakshman came to a screeching halt in the middle of the hallway, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Grabbing his dagger, he whirled around.

But everything seemed to be empty. He could practically hear the crickets chirping. The large armor they had displayed on the wall was perfectly still, no sign of a human being. 

"Maybe it was the wind," he muttered, scratching the back of his head. "No, that's impossible. There's no wind today. Maybe I'm going crazy like Shatrughan keeps saying." Grumblingly, he turned back around, tucking his dagger away again.

Slower this time, but determined still, he continued storming down the hallway, the walls rattling with his every footstep. Until there was another deafening clanging.

Lakshman didn't have enough time to confront the mysterious sound again before a hand was clamped tightly over his mouth and he was blindfolded and dragged away kicking and screaming.

------O-------

Bharat was cooped up in his room, alone. He was very busy lifting weights.

No he wasn't. He was painting. Absentmindedly, Bharat scratched his nose, getting a little red paint on it, before trying to wipe it off with his other hand, which had blue paint on it. So Bharat, at this point, had a purple nose which he was trying to turn into brown with green fingers. 

Sighing, he stepped back from his easel, scrunching his nose in mild distaste at the abstract art before sighing. "Good enough for now, Bharat." he wheezed, his nose clogged up unconsciously.

Suddenly, he heard a loud noise that sounded like the paintbrushes crashing. Slowly, he turned his head around, eyes widening. "You?!" he exclaimed in fury, but it didn't sound as menacing as he wanted, because his nose was all clogged up. So it sounded like a questioning sneeze instead. "Choo?"

Very confused, but alarmed still, he was grabbed by the wrist and pulled away from his art, sending one last woeful look towards his oil painting.

------O-------

Lakshman kicked his legs, but they were bound to a chair, so he was mostly flailing in place. He'd been sitting there for minutes, maybe hours (he never kept track of time very well, because he spent most of his brain power thinking about Ram and his family).

Suddenly, after what felt like years, a hand touched his face and ripped off his blindfold. He squinted his eyes at the sudden sunlight, and looked around, only to see...

His own bedroom. His angry eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to threaten his kidnapper until he saw Shatrughan, Ram, and Bharat sitting nervously on the bed. Lakshman blinked. "Uh, are you three okay?" he asked tentatively, biting the inside of his cheek. 

"Ram bhaiyya? Shatru? Bharat bhaiyya? Wait, are you bruised, Bharat bhaiyya? I'm going to beat up the person that did this-"

Shatrughan laughed nervously. "Uh. Well. It was me. I did it." He looked at Bharat. "And no, Bharat bhaiyya isn't bruised. He was just mixing colors on his nose instead of the palette. Speaking of which, why would you do that, bhaiyya? That's very stupid. Did you run out of palettes or something?"

Bharat opened his mouth, probably to give a long lecture on how mixing paint on skin was actually a very time tested procedure that ancient artists had supported. 

Lakshman would have believed him, except Ram cleared his throat. "Shatru," he began gently. "Let's get to the point. Why did you kidnap all of us and take us to your room?"

Shatrughan's eyes lit up, clapping his hands slightly before leaning back. "Don't you know, bhaiyya? Today's rakshabandhan! I expected everyone to approach me, but this works too." Everyone stared back at him blankly, and Shatrughan slumped slightly, looking around as if unsure. "Rakshabandhan? When siblings tie rakhis around their brother's wrists and have them promise to always keep them safe?"

"I know rakshabandhan." Lakshman snorted. "But what does that have to do with us? I thought that was between sister and brother, no? I don't know if you've noticed or not, but we don't have a sister. Well, except for Shanta didi, but she certainly can't come here today. Plus, we've barely seen her, so it's going to be awkward if we suddenly present her with rakhis to tie on our wrists like 'Hiii, how are you-' "

"Well yeah," Shatrughan sighed, exasperated. "But we're still brothers!  Sibling bonds!" When everyone stared at him, he rolled his eyes, reaching over to pull his drawer open before lifting out a small, wooden box. "I even bought the rakhis for us. A whole bunch. I couldn't decide, really. Everyone in Ayodhya is so talented."

Lakshman scratched the corner of his mouth, having untied the rope around his wrists while Shatrughan talked, and moving to his ankles. "Well, if you think about it, this rakhi thing is very unfair. The sister not only expects the brother to protect her forever and ever, and also gets a gift? What, just for tying a rakhi that benefits her?"

Bharat wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his chin on top. "I like it. I think that it shows how much faith one sibling has in another."

Ram grinned at Lakshman. "And we don't have a sister! We're all brothers. So we can vow to protect each other, right? That way, it's fair."

"And even if it wasn't," Shatrughan butted in. "I still expect you to humor me. As your younger sibling." He looked around. "You have to put your wrists forward so I can properly do this, by the way."

Obligingly, Ram and Bharat thrust their wrists forward. Shatrughan stared expectantly at Lakshman, who hesitantly stood up and hopped over to the bed, since his ankles were still tied together, before placing his rope burned wrist on the bed as well.

Shatrughan's eyes sparkled, shaking his shoulders playfully, before pulling out a simple rakhi with a small golden sun charm to knot around Ram's wrist. "Ram bhaiyya, I'm entrusting you with my health."

There was an intricate flower rakhi to compliment Bharat's fair wrist, and he beamed up at Bharat, hugging him tightly. "Bharat bhaiyya, I'm entrusting you with my happiness."

Finally, he picked up a saffron-beaded rakhi for Lakshman. "Lakshman, I-" He cleared his throat. "Lakshman bhaiyya, I'm entrusting you with my safety!"

Lakshman blinked, staring at the blood red thread on his wrist before swallowing. "I really don't see why you had to kidnap us though," he muttered.

"That's true," Shatrughan hummed. "After seeing how easy it was to kidnap you, I'm already starting to doubt why you're the keeper of my safety-"

"HEY-"

"Sorry, sorry, please don't kill me-"

"I'm very CLOSE-"

"Arrey, then you'll have to fight yourself, because you're both in charge of his safety and a threat to it!"

"BHARAT BHAIYYA-"

"Sorry, please don't kill me either. Shatru, can you give me one of those rakhis? I need to tie one around Lakshman's wrist too."

"See? You're starting to get it."

"Oh, so you only did this so Laksh doesn't kill you? Shatru, he wouldn't do that."

"Ram bhaiyya, I'm really about to. He's such a rakshas, I'm telling you!"

Shatrughan grinned cheekily. "The next time we come across a rakshas, you'll have to stay by my side and protect me instead of running off with Ram bhaiyya."

Lakshman's eyes softened slightly. "I wouldn't let you get hurt. Especially because of this rakhi, now I've promised to do it."

Bharat but his lip. "Speaking of which, why do we encounter rakshasas so much? They're infiltrating the castle all the time!"

"RAKSHAS!" Shatrughan shouted, sitting up from his lounge in the pillows and pointing.

Before anyone else could react, with lighting speed, Lakshman drew a dagger from his dhoti and threw it towards the doorway. 

Only for it to meet the body of what looked to be a courtier with a colorful turban. All four watched as the man's eyes rolled back into his head, and he slowly sank to the marble floor, blood trailing down from the wound straight to his heart.

Ram jumped off the bed immediately as Shatrughan put his hands over his mouth. "Lakshman! What have you done?" Bharat scolded hoarsely, walked forward in large paces as Lakshman froze. "You just killed one of Papa's courtiers!"

Lakshman winced, before looking at Shatrughan. "Why did you tell me that there was rakshas in the doorway if it was very clearly a human being?"

"I didn't know you'd react that quickly!" Shatrughan blurted. "You've never trusted anything I've said before. I thought you would just snort and look away."

"SHATRU-"

"He didn't." Ram declared, after examining the body of the man. "He didn't kill a courtier. Because I've never seen this courtier before. I've been in the throne room since age five. I've seen every man there introduced. This one? Never." 

He leaned over the body, and the other three watched as he muttered some sort of mantra underneath his breath, hands folded together.

Bharat shrieked loudly as the dead body of the "courtier" began to morph into a stumpy green, bearded demon with large bull horns. "See what I'm talking about?" he cried, pointing to the deceased demon in alarm. "Nobody even noticed him! I swear, half of the population in Ayodhya are rakshasas, and we'll never be able to tell the difference! He could have killed us!"

Shatrughan flexed his arm. "But it didn't. Because of me and my detection skills."

"Who was saying moments ago that it was a prank? I killed the rakshas."

"Because of my rakhi!"

"So what, all the rakshasas I killed before were jokers, because you hadn't tied a rakhi on my wrist yet?"

Shatrughan smirked. "I'd tied it on your wrist in my spirit. And that's what counts." He picked at his nails. "Technically, I'm the one who's responsible for your entire demon killing legacy. You should thank me!"

"That's great and all," Bharat began wearily. "But what do we do with the demon body?"

"Put it in the basement with all of the other bodies that I killed." Lakshman replied nonchalantly.

"WHAT-"

"All of the other rakshas bodies that I killed, you mean."

"SHATRU-"

A/N: Happy RakshaBandhan everyone. Hopefully it's not filled with rakshasas like the brothers' holiday was. And even if it is, I hope you have a Lakshman bhaiyya who'll eliminate them without another thought.

This was rather short for an OS (~1700 words) but I just wanted to do something special for Rakshabandan before it was over. 

BY THE WAY: @milkykite I AM WORKING ON THE HORROR ONESHOT, I PROMIIIISEEEE!