A Wrinkle in Time

"Bharat? Where is Bharat?" asked Kaikeyi, smoothing out the napkin on her lap. "He's very, very late to breakfast." Mandavi shrugged. "I wonder, he's usually early, actually. It's Shatru that's always late, but not Bharat." Shatrughan rolled his eyes. "Did you habits rub off on him, Shatrughan?" Kaikeyi asked wonderingly as Shrutakirti laughed.

"No, no. I'm here, I'm here." The entire hall turned towards where Bharat stood there, covered with dust and soot, sniffling hard, and trying to brush himself off. "I-um, was out, somewhere." he tried his best to look casual, but it wouldn't work with Shatrughan around, as the youngest walked up, brushing his brother off.

"Right, Bharat. Where were you, diving into a pool of dust for fun?" Everyone laughed. "Come on, tell the truth, we won't tell anyone. Not that we have anyone to tell, but anyways." Bharat shook his head adamantly and Shatrughan pouted. "Oh, so you don't want to tell me? Do you not love me anymore? Am I not your favorite brother anymore, Bharat? Oh, I know what must have happened. Do you love my twin more than yourself? Everyone does!" Bharat gasped in offense, rubbing a wailing Shatrughan's back as Lakshman frowned.

Shaking his head, he opened his mouth widely to speak. "No one likes me better, Shatrughan, don't cry. Foreign adversaries are scared of me, the palace guards hate my temper, my mother always pampers you, Maa Kaushalya always pampers you, heck, Maa Kaikeyi, the warrior, always pampers you! Father dotes upon you, all of our uncles and aunts dote upon you!" He took a deep breath.

"The citizens think I'm a mad prince who can speak to snakes, Sita bhabhi thinks you're hilarious, I'm pretty sure even Mandavi bhabhi likes you more than me, Shrutakirti didi obviously likes you more, she's your wife, and heck! I'm pretty sure even Ram bhaiyya likes you more!" He sniffled, wiping a fake tear away from his eyes. "Only my wife likes me more, and thank goodness for that!"

Urmila smiled kindly at him as he furiously chewed the end of a chili pepper, dark eyes darting over all the squirming forms around the table maliciously. "Yes, don't worry. I wouldn't choose that khadoos over anyone, be it an evil rakshas or a giantess, so you're definitely in the clear, arya." Bharat cleared his throat as Shatrughan now was showing his best puppy-eyes, something which he seemed to have inherited from Ram. Bharat looked away quickly, but when he glanced back, the puppy-eyes had become even stronger.

"Aaaaaah, fine! Shatru, my enemy, the people's enemy, the world's enemy! Lakshman discerned your personality the best when we were just toddlers! How wrong I was when I thought he was overexaggerating and was just jealous of you when he fought with you non-stop! He was right when he said you were a lying, cheating, good-for-nothing thief! I remember he had that anklet when we were kids!" He clutched his hair as Shatrughan grinned triumphantly.

"Fine-argh! Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine! I was looking at those paintings which I made back in Gurukul, you remember that?" Shatrughan frowned for a second as Lakshman nodded and Ram looked up in confusion. "The ones I smuggled out of the ashram." he took a deep breath. "I was looking over them, and I wanted to show them to our fam-mmff!" Shaturghan had slapped a hand on his mouth, but not before everyone had heard.

"We'd love to see the paintings, Bharat! I'd like to see what you all got up to when you were younger, and the ashram had quite beautiful scenery, didn't they?" wondered Sita, clasping her hands together respectfully, but something in her sparked a voracious curiosity and hopefulness. "Why, don't you want us to see them, Shatrughan? Is there something wrong, maybe? We wouldn't want to impose, but maybe-"

"No, no. Please don't do it Bharat!" cried Shatrughan. "Don't do it, don't show them the paintings, I beg of you! You can't do it! I-I won't- I can't!" he actually looked desperate at this point, but Ram was frowning at this point as well, not having seen the paintings for a while, and having forgotten what they looked like.

"No, no. I think all of our family," The wives blushed at being called "family", "would love to see the paintings. You were always a good painter, Bharat. Come on, Shatrughan. Please tell me you didn't vandalize them or something." he laughed. "Come on, Bharat, get them out of the cellar, please? Let's see them!" Shatrughan shook his head.

"Do you still want to show them, Bharat? I can't let you!" he drew a long sword, and pointed it towards Lakshman. "What if I kill my twin? Dear Laksh, dead, stabbed, on the ground?" Urmila gasped in surprise at the sudden murderous turn of what seemed to be a playful family argument. "What then? Would you still be just as eager to show the paintings, hmm? Make your friend a widow?" Maa Sumitra had enough.

"Shatrughan! Put that sword down! What a stupid notion, you are not killing Lakshman, do you hear me? You are not! Get back here, I'm giving you the ear twisting you need!" Lakshman frowned, getting in between his crazed twin and Bharat, who looked like he believed that Shatrughan was actually going to kill him, to Maa Sumitra, who looked ready to fulfill her threat once called upon.

Lakshman, however, wasn't in a hurry to have those paintings shown either. What would Maa Sumitra say once they saw the one of Ram sleeping on a cot outside? She would be furious, shout at him for not building a cabin around Ram. Lakshman still hadn't quite forgiven himself for not doing so! "You were never good at blackmailing, Shatrughan. But that's alright. I won't let Maa Kaushalya know about how you attempted to blackmail Bharat if you convince him not to show those paintings." he smirked devilishly as everyone else paled.

"You want to get a slap too, Lakshman?" asked Maa Sumitra, and arms folded, she made a pretty good image of an angry female Lakshman. Lakshman jumped, eyes widening at the very thought before turning back to Shatrughan, priorities in check as Urmila giggled. Maybe Maa Sumitra would be a little more merciful if she saw the paintings?

"You want to get beaten up, Shatrughan? Put that sword down and stop blackmailing your brother!" he roared loudly, sounding like an angry lion, and in the face of his angry brother, who had his rather muscled arms crossed, and even angrier mother, who looked in her 'ear-twisting' mood, both fully ready to go through with their threats, Shatrughan put his sword back, with a sigh, and plopped back down on his chair as Bharat leaned on Ram.

"You people are no family!" he cried dramatically, being soothed by a laughing Shrutakirti. "You attempt to blackmail me when all I am doing is depriving you of a few paintings! Honestly, what a traitor you are, twin. What a traitor indeed, Bharat! And Ram bhaiyya! Ever righteous, follower of dharma! You were supposed to protect me, but you stood on the sidelines, hurting me more than these traitors ever could! Shame upon all you so-called Raghus!" The speech did nothing to make people feel guilty as it was meant to, only made them laugh, but another, very similar one, declared by a certain fallen one, would find its mark.

"Let me get them," mumbled Bharat breathlessly as they all paraded themselves to the common rooms, where a large daybed sat fluffy and beautiful right in the middle of the large room with mirrors everywhere. "Here," he grunted, as he walked back in with a large stack of canvas and cloth. "Keep in mind that I was only about sixteen when these were made, Ram bhaiyya was seventeen, and the twins were fifteen. We were not very skillful, both in mind and in the arts." he gulped.

Shatrughan, in all of his folly, foe, and defeat, could not resist putting in a word of good mention for himself. "Speak for yourself, bhaiyya! My mind and wit were just as sharp as ever! Honestly, I think nothing has changed, not my strength, not my wit, nor even my amazing good looks, for the truth is, Shrutakirti, I do not age!" he flexed an arm proudly, before Ram smacked him and Bharat rolled his eyes.

"You mean to say that your brain, nor your smarts, has developed for 4 years?" snorted Lakshman. "That means you still think like an immature fifteen year old right now, at nineteen years old! I would say that as no compliment, Shatrughan. Even I admit, I was a little bit stupid back then, as you all are about to see." Urmila leaned forward eagerly, excited to see what her husband looked and acted like four years ago.

Bharat unveiled the first painting hesitantly, slowly as if savoring the moment, or warily, as if expecting an outburst at any moment, no one could tell. A large canvas, which lead to multiple gasps. The four brothers sat, staring at the sunset, on their last day. One could see the lean silhouette of Ram, sitting behind his brothers, tall and steady. Then Bharat, his observant eyes pointing out the tallest tree. Then Lakshman, angled a little bit towards the river. Then Shatrughan, his slouching black shadow visible even in the painting.

"That's very beautiful, Bharat." mumbled Kaushalya as she leaned in closer, studying closely how the rays looked so realistic, how every curve of the trees mimicked the ones outside, and she smiled up at him. Shatrughan breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe these paintings were not so bad after all. Maybe he remembered wrong.

That was a wrong assumption on his part. Bharat lifted the cover off of the next painting to reveal the demon invasion of the hermitage. Demons had flown in while they were meditating, ransacking the area. The painting showed Bharat distracting the bat-like monsters as Shatrughan confused them. Sita stared admiringly at the bow and arrow Ram was wielding while Urmila covered her eyes as Lakshman was overwhelmed by the monsters.

"What was happening? How did so many demons enter? Lakshman, how were you overwhelmed? How are you all still alive?!" Kaikeyi shrieked as Sumitra tried her best to pat her back. Sumitra was quite calm herself. Bharat squirmed around as Shatrughan sent him a glare. Ram gulped. This was not what he had expected when Bharat said 'paintings'.

"When the guru was meditating, his mental barriers were relaxed, and monsters were able to enter. Lakshman didn't have an endless quiver." When Kaushalya looked close to fainting, Ram quickly hastened to add, "He managed to draw a sword though." He shuddered when remembering the pile of mutilated bodies as Urmila, hugged Lakshman tightly, eyes widened as she thought of him dying.

Bharat removed the cover of the next one, and they all were heavily delighted, all except Maa Sumitra and Shatrughan, anyways, as they saw a laughing Shatrughan escaping from a shouting teacher as Ram ran after him, Bharat looked exasperated and at his wit's end, and Lakshman carelessly sharpened an arrow. Urmila burst into laughter at her husband's carelessness as Sumitra twisted Shatrughan's ear so tightly that he closed one eye.

"Aaah! Maa?! Why not twist Lakshman's ear? He wasn't doing anything to help Ram bhaiyya! That's not fair, you favor my twin over me! Mothers are not supposed to show favoritism!" Sumitra shook her head, letting him go, and now twisting Lakshman's ear. He didn't wince, however, just listened to her lecture and blinked.

Bharat quickly uncovered the next one as Lakshman and Shatrughan rubbed their ears in unison, and glared at the other. Wrong move. Now, a giantess fell, an arrow embedded in her heart, as Ram was midair, holding a bow, like he had released the arrow, but he was heavily wounded. On the ground was Bharat and Shatrughan, each of them holding a spear tightly and amazingly, unwounded and Lakshman stood in the background, holding a bright red jewel, with a single scratch across his chest.

Bharat sighed. Wish-fulfillment, that one was. For this painting was made in a world where they were not captured by that giantess, where Ram bhaiyya did not have to make a plan, where Laksh did not have to be the distraction. Where he and Shatru did not have to start planning to die, or to cope with their other brother's death. He smiled as Ram bhaiyya grinned at the picture, Shatrughan laughed at his warrior's position, and Lakshman complained about how he was barely visible. Smaller, less important problems.

"Okay, next one!" Bharat cried breathlessly, and rightfully. This painting showed Shatrughan covered with mud and leaves as a tall blur with reddish brown hair escaped from the scene. Ram and Bharat stood on the sidelines, gaping in horror as Shatrughan's arms crossed. "Oh, the prank war." Bharat shuddered. "Worst few weeks of my life." When Sumitra threatened to twist their ears again, Shatrughan quickly hid behind Bharat as Lakshman did Ram.

"Only three more, and then we're done!" cried Bharat hastily, and Shatrughan cheered, having lost all of his excitement. Ram was clutching his hair, eyes comically widened as he stood on the ground, as Lakshman, with multiple bandages around his stomach and waist, did a backflip in mid-air, but Bharat and Shatrughan were out of picture. They weren't there, absent from sight. No one was there, the sun seemed to be setting. And something seemed to be off. As if it wasn't going to end as well as it had. Urmila nudged her husband again, seemingly about to ask a serious question. "Why do you have bandages?" Ram answered for Lakshman, who didn't look like he wanted to face his wife's wrath.

"Broken hip and rib cage. Got it from being crushed by a tree. He wasn't resting, and did a back-flip to show me he was healed." Now it was Ram's turn to twist his ear as Urmila smacked his arm and Sumitra smacked his head, and Shatrughan gave him an earful and Bharat glared at him, and Maa Kaikeyi flicked his forehead, and Shrutakirti frowned angrily, and kind Maa Kaushalya tried to deter everyone else.

"Oww," whined Lakshman. "You all are meanies!" he glared at everyone, and pouted, crossing his arms. Bharat excitedly unveiled the second to last, where, to their pure astonishment, stood four young princesses, and four young princes. Ram, who was fourteen, staring at Sita with a sort of mistrusting love. Bharat and Mandavi talking excitedly about flowers. Shatrughan goofing off, and about to say something offensive as Lakshman clapped a hand on his mouth. Shrutakirti and Urmila giggling at their antics, though Urmila seemed troubled about something, as Lakshman seemed to turn away from her.

"I totally forgot about that! We had met each other before Mithila, hadn't we?" cried Ram, hugging Sita as she nodded. The memories rushed back to Urmila like a magnet calling a hurricane to itself. She remembered that shy boy, and his raucous twin, how she wanted to get him to speak and open up a little bit more. She remembered his hate for that willow tree, his dark black eyes, his deep scowl.

That was a boy no longer, but a fully-grown nineteen-year-old man, her husband indeed he was, who sat next to her. The same hatred for willow trees. The same strength that allowed him to carry a hundred logs of firewood. The same glare, heavy, but not reserved for her. The same dark eyes that seemed to peer into her soul without permission. The very same Lakshman, with his numbered words, who was now peering at the painting, a rare smile spreading across his face as he wrapped an arm around Urmila's shoulder.

Bharat had simply smiled at Mandavi, before his fair face paled. "Oh no, there's only one more. I-I, you guys can't see this one!" He was about to snatch it away, but Kaikeyi grabbed it, shaking her head as she swiped the protective cloth off the very last one, expecting Shatrughan or Lakshman to have goofed off again, or Bharat not to be paying attention to his studies, or even Ram, maybe to have done something.

What they were not expecting was this. Bharat had been haunted that day, for the next few months, in fact. His nightmares had come to life, his family was divided. And only days later, they were back together again, Ram bhaiyya realized that Laksh couldn't have broken his bow, and they were fine. Just a week or two after that, they had gone into the forest. Bharat's heart had been torn and put back together multiple times, and he channeled all of the loose threads that escaped the cloth of his heart into this painting.

It felt as if he had only brushed on dark, ominous colors, no streaks of white anywhere, but just a second later, one could see shapes forming. First was the one of Bharat himself, inside the medical cabin, sitting down on the ground, holding onto Shatrughan as both of them looked at-something in horror. Then was Ram's dark figure, somehow pale, as he put his head into his hand. He was sitting down on a chair, his eyes desperately trying to-do something. Then there was Lakshman, looking over towards the doorway as well, dark eyes angered, hands looking about to draw his sword.

In the doorway stood death. A spindly figure, wearing a large, tattered cloak. It had white eyes, unseeing ivory white eyes, that seemed to look into Shatrughan's very heart. The cloak seemed to be blowing in the wind, and a bony, pale hand was escaping from his long sleeve. It beckoned the youngest of them closer towards himself. Death held a long, silvery bow, not unlike the one that Ram had loved before it broke.

And right in front of everyone's eyes, in the painting, somehow now animated, Ram bound forward, and grabbed Shatrughan, pulling him closer to himself, and Bharat suddenly looked resigned, now he himself in Death's clutches. Lakshman finally finished drawing his sword, running forward and pulling Bharat out of Death's eyesight. He disappeared from view for a second as Ram shot an arrow into Death's bony chest. His eyesight was once more directed towards Lakshman, who seemed to edge ever closer, before finally breaking free of the trance.

The dark, deathly looking figure disappeared, but the silvery bow remained behind, clattering to the ground as the brothers paid it no attention, laughing together and going in for a group hug. The bow remained. Dividing your family was always an option, and an easy one. It would always be there, but where love was separated, Death followed. Silence, horror-filled silence responded to Bharat's painting. There were no comforting words. No ear twistings. No laughter. Just a single, choked sob.

A/N-I have a bit of foreshadowing going on, as you can see. This chapter was never meant to be playful, it just seems so at first sight. See if you can find all of the foreshadowing...there may even be a prize!! That needs a reread to find, unless you are particularly observant. To all you observant folks, I applaud you! I think I might have included too much foreshadowing.

No, I am not troubled, I didn't mean to write this chapter, it just sort of flowed out, I suppose. As you can see, AyodhyaKand will be kinda dark. Did you guys think it was dark, this chapter? I mean, I've written darker, I think the 'Decisions, Decisions...' chapter was quite dark. Is this darker? I'm wondering. Is this the darkest thing I have ever written? My goodness gracious. Don't worry though. There will be playful chapters. In fact, I think the next one I write may be playful. You all will recover! Just read one of my older, playful chapters!