How do you imagine the characters, like Shatrughan, Bharat, Sita, and Urmila to act? Maybe something from a TV show? Perhaps otherwise, you've dreamt it up on your own. Anyways, these are some drawings and character moments which I feel best define some of my characters as well as imagines. I will not include all characters, maybe just three, but in case you want me to do a part 2, please let me know! Also, if any of you want these short moments to become fully-fledged chapters, let me know!

Sita "The Great"

The sun was just rising in the horizon, and already, Sita had awoken, gently throwing the covers back on Mandavi, who was snoring, and smiling in the direction of Shrutakirti, who was calmly sleeping, the rise and fall of her chest in rhythm with the chirping of birds outside. Sita wondered what species the birds were of. Robin? Bluejay? Something different, maybe?

She stepped outside, basking in the sun. Nature was just wonderful, how the trees rustled, how the flowers fell from the twigs, how the birds chirped musically, how the deer flocked to her. She couldn't imagine why people would cut trees down anywhere, really, but she forgot the solemn thought quickly as a chilly morning breeze blew by and she quickly drew up a warm shawl.

She had, however, been followed by Mandavi and Urmila, both of whom were busy doing what they did best; arguing. "I hate you! I hate you Mandavi! I couldn't imagine living with you for years as Shrutakirti has done. Honestly, I hate you!" Sita turned around, frowning at the argument, and pacing closer.

"It's not my fault that your portrait got ruined! It was just a painting of Sita, anyways. And just a drop of paint! You shouldn't keep anything you treasure, even useless things like that painting, near me. Why didn't you expect it to be ruined? Besides, I think it looks better after my little fall." Urmila gaped at her, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Are you kidding me? Little fall? Little fall? You crashed into the drying painting, causing it to smudge! On top of that, you "accidentally" splattered a bucket of blue paint on it! I wonder what you would call a big fall!" She shook her head, shivering from the dewy cold. "Besides, I shouldn't have to expect anything! You should be careful, you rakshasi!" she snarled. "I hate you!" she repeated. Mandavi goggled as Sita walked closer, shaking her head.

"Stop it!" the eldest sister cried. "Stop all of this nonsense! For goodness sakes, appreciate the nature around you instead of fighting, ruining the peaceful atmosphere! Stop your rambles and just listen to the birds, feel the breeze!" She wrapped her shawl around the shivering Urmila, not caring that she might catch a cold herself.

Mandavi frowned. "Always nature, nature, nature. Nothing else with you, didi. You should pay more attention to us, your sisters." Urmila nodded in agreement.

"I agree with Mandavi. Didi, are you trying to make us jealous? You love the birds you talk about endlessly more than us, isn't it?" Mandavi and Urmila had agreed on something. It seemed the world was about to come to an end.

Sita smiled, not caring that her lips were turning blue as Mandavi and Urmila began talking to each other in a civilized manner. She had sacrificed her own warmth, and her position as mediator to give her two warring sisters a common dislike. Sita came down with a fever the next day. She wouldn't be cured until she saw Mandavi and Urmila, laughing together.

A/N-The only word I can think of that describes Sita is the "Great". She is self-sacrificing, kind, noble, loyal, and everything in between, the epitome of grace and beauty, both inner and outer. This drabble does not accurately represent her, maybe, but it was the closest I could get.

Urmila "The Loving"

"Sita didi? Where are you?" Urmila called. She got no answer, and looked around, swallowing hard. Was her sister hurt? Perhaps she was lying down somewhere, head bleeding. That very thought got her heart racing. Oh no! Sita didi was hurt and she didn't even know where she was! What a horrible sister, surely the fates were looking angrily upon her.

She looked up at the sound of steadily approaching footsteps, and looked upon the inquisitive face of her husband. Lakshman. He looked at her distraught face, one look, and realized her plight. "Sita bhabhi is with Ram bhaiyya. Come and see." She followed him to the couple's room, where she, with her heart panging, saw the newlyweds were feeding each other.

"They love each other very much, you know? Just like we do, but perhaps tenfold." Urmila felt jealousy creeping inside of her. That brother-in-law was slowly taking the place of her, and she didn't like it. She had a right mind to march in and shake his shoulders, but held herself back. Her sister was happy with him. That was enough for her.

"I think that maybe we should leave." she heard a mutter beside her. "I feel like we're intruding upon some private moment, and I feel very odd." She agreed with Lakshman, and they began to walk down the endless corridors again, talking about every which thing.

Whenever Lakshman talked, Urmila listened, for the times were scarce. Part of the reason she loved her husband so much was that he listened to her. She always tried to do the same, but often caught herself interrupting his carefully chosen words. Whenever she did this, and realized it too, she would feel like slapping herself. But, she knew the reason.

Whenever Lakshman would go off on anything, be it a Hunting Trip, or a village visit, or even a playful duel with Ayodhya's children, her heart would hammer at a speed unbelievable to most. She knew how easy it was for him to get hurt. He could bear pain like no one else, but still. Some day, he might not return.

And so Urmila crammed all the words she could into his ears. Angry ones, kind ones, sorrowful ones, frustrating ones, and everything possibly in between. For, Urmila believed that every emotion was caused by love. Be it love for a person, place, or thing. So she tried to force an underlying tone of love in her words, that if, some horrible day, that the despicable fates threw upon her the one thing she couldn't manage, the death of her husband, that his last thoughts may be of her love. And if he ever felt like life wasn't worth fighting for, she would be there for him. Her love would be there for him.

Urmila shook her head, wincing, as Lakshman's words suddenly came to a halt. He was looking at her confusedly, and waved a hand in front of her eyes. Urmila jumped. "Ah, yes, goodbye, Laksh! Love you!" and she ran off.

Love you would slip out everywhere in her words. It was as if she was made of love itself, that it seeped into every single thing she did. She had even confessed to her current husband with an accidental "I Love You" that had slipped out without her knowing at the time. She would sometimes stare at trees and ponds in the gardens, and when she said goodbye, she would say "I Love You", in pure accident.

The truth was, Urmila saw the two people whom she loved the most, Lakshman and Sita, everywhere. If a cherry blossom tree shed pink flowers, Urmila would fondly think of Sita's beauty, pick one up, and put it in her hair, as to carry Sita everywhere with her, if not physically, in her fond memories and thoughts. If a tree stood particularly tall and stubborn, she would think of Lakshman, and wrap her arms around it, as to comfort him as if he were having one of his tempers. Truthfully, she never hugged him when he was shouting, only shouted back, but she would always have liked to have the presence of mind to hug him. Maybe it would make the world a better place.

A/N-Loving can describe many people in the Ramayana. However, I felt that it described Urmila the most. Every single memorable thing she did was because of the fierce love she had stored inside her for two people in specific, her husband, and her sister.

Shrutakirti "The Devoted"

"Are you sure you want to marry me?" her husband had asked, almost jumping for joy. "Me? Really? You love me?" When Shrutakirti had nodded, Shatrughan had bound forward, hugged her, and danced off into the distance, waving his arms like the rising sun. Shrutakirti stared after him, smiling at his retreating back.

Suddenly, he came running back. "But, but, wait. I am the fourth in line for the throne." he frowned for a second. "Why would you love someone with nothing to his name but prankster? Why would you, Shruta, when you of such beauty and kindness and understanding could have someone else, a king, who could keep you much happier and wealthier?" Shurtakirti smiled at him, shaking her head.

"Happiness does not lie in wealth, nor status, nor even power. Happiness lies in love. And I love you, Shatrughan. Besides, a prankster is many things. Strategic, smart, and mentally stable. I think that you would make a great ruler, and husband." She stroked his cheek, smiling as Shatrughan leaned into her hand.

"I will always support you," she murmured. "In all of your endeavours." And this was what she had repeated to the worried Shatrughan who was pacing around in front of the throne of the Late Raja Dasharath. "I will always support you. The kingdom will back down, but I will not. Your brothers may back down, but I will not. My sisters may wail and cry, and throw insults upon you and Ayodhya, but I. Will. Not. " She jutted her chin out.

"Mandavi is bitter, she is afraid that Bharat will leave her, and in her love for him, she is scared. I am not. Urmila is scared for her husband and her sister. I am not. Maa Sumitra is mourning, she is strong, but she is sad. I am ready to face anything if you are by my side." Shatrughan looked up at her words, and smiled, suddenly coming to decision at his wife's determined and dedicated words.

"Then I will make a statement." Both of them nodded, and a newly rejuvenated Shatrughan walked off quickly, hair still perfect as always, shining with renewed strength at his wife's words. Shrutakirti sighed. It had been so long since she had first uttered those words of belief in her husband. He had scarcely believed her.

Urmila was deprived of her husband for fourteen years. Her elder cousin would often come into her chambers and cry into her hair, but walk off only moments later, determined to "Stay Strong for Laksh". Shrutakirti admired her strength, and wished she had some of it. Either way, Urmila was covering up a lot of pain, and she would be here to support her heartbroken sister. She would always be here.

Maa Sumitra, her mother-in-law, was without two of her sons. Ram, whom she had hoped would be the king, and Lakshman. She loved the twins equally, Shatrughan was the bringer of her joy and kept her on her toes, but Lakshman was the enhancer of her joy and pride, achieving her some favor, third queen as she was. Shrutakirti admired Maa Sumitra, her courage and her selflessness, for she knew no jealousy or bitterness for her elder, more favoured sisters. Only love. But Maa Sumitra was sad, filled with sorrow, pining for her sons, daughter-in-law, and husband. And Shrutakirti would always be there.

Mandavi was angry. She was uptight, and tough. She did not want to lose her husband, and she would fight tooth and nail for him to stay back with her. Shrutakirti wished she had such spirit, such determination for what was right, to make her will come true. But Mandavi was in pain. She would often sob between her words, choke with sadness. And Shrutakirti would always hug her. For she would always be there.

She would alight in her husband a fierce courage that he had forgotten, a belief in himself that he had lost. She would make Urmila's despairing fourteen years livable, breathable, and though nothing could make them happy, she would stuff some life into them! She would bandage Mandavi's wounds, rekindle the dying fire of her trust in the world. For Shrutakirti knew. She knew the world was hard, and that it was filled with anger, and loss, and mistrust, and hate alike. But through all of that, she would always be there for those she loved. No matter if she was forgotten. Or left unloved. Or had no one there for herself to cry to sometimes. She would always be there, no matter what.

A/N-Shrutakirti is a lovely character to write, and her devotion towards her family shines through. Urmila could not always have been strong, Shatrughan filled with self-confidence, Sumitra with understanding. But Shrutakirti was, and she helped them through the years.

A/N-So this chapter was obviously written a bit differently, but I loved the style, and it was honestly very enjoyable to write and hopefully, to read as well. I did leave Mandavi out of this, because I was not sure what to write about her. Anyone have ideas? Does anyone want to read part two of my character sketch drabbles? Also, I know, you all want part 3 of the jealousy chapter. This is my way of building up suspense, hehe. 

Also thank you to everyone that sent me ideas. @n-i-t-h-y-a, I am going to use part of your idea when I post part 3, and the other part after the marriage is over. @Ridhima123_, I also will be using your idea later, as its own chapter. @Apukar, your Bharat breaks shyness idea will also be used as its own chapter! THANK YOU!