Ten whole years. Ten whole years. No one spoke as breakfast happened, emotionless faces and spoons moving mechanically to mouths and then back to bowls. It was silent. No one dared to break it. Those who were there remembered how Ram, Sita, and Lakshman had walked into the throne room at the break of dawn, and departed, taking Ayodhya's happiness with them. And those who were not wished that they were.

Kaikeyi looked up from her food, her eyes darting between all of the family. Shatrughan was picking at his food uncharacteristically as Shrutakirti watched, but did not intervene. Bharat had his head in his hands, managing a weak smile as Mandavi told her best jokes. Urmila continued to eat, not seeming to have noticed the change in the family. Sumitra was watching Urmila with a sad sort of thing in her eyes. And Kaushalya was looking right back at her.

Kaikeyi set her spoon down, and scooted her chair back so that it squealed a horrid and most annoying sound against the ground. Everyone's heads darted up as she crossed her arms and looked with narrowed eyes down at them. "Look," she began angrily. "I know. It was my fault. I've accepted it! It's been ten years, and you all are mourning. Haven't we done enough of that? Why aren't we sharing stories? Remembering the two-three, I mean? Why are we busy eating, not even that really, when we could be reminiscing?"

Shatrughan stood up, nodding and Shrutakirti along with him. "Ten years! It's a long time!" he cried. "We should be laughing together about the "olden days", and remembering them, but instead, all we are doing is sitting here getting older and wearier by the second! Come on! It isn't like they're dead or anything! The world needs to smile more, and I think you all are contributing to half of its sorrows! Let's, instead of remembering the bad days, recall the good ones, that we spent with Ram bhaiyya and Sita bhabhi." he turned towards Shrutakirti, and she smiled back at him, encouraging his newfound energy and excitement.

Clearing her throat, Urmila got up from her chair, bringing Sumitra along with her and clutching her tightly along the arm. "It is said that memories bring back a form of the person that we remember that one would not have otherwise found." Sumitra uttered, her first wise words in days. "We should try to bring them back in all the ways possible, even if not physically! We should think of the times that we spent with them, instead of the ones that we didn't."

Bharat and Mandavi looked at each other. Mandavi stood up. "Look, it's no use feeling guilty, for all the guilt in the world and more would not bring them back, now would it? It has been ten years of you just trying and trying to do just that. I've had enough. Perhaps it shall be laughter and memories that bring them back instead of your guilt and overwhelming sorrow. Come on, get up." She lifted him up by the shoulder and patted his arm, and Bharat smiled weakly at her.

Now all that was left was Kaushalya, who leaned back in her chair, before she took a sip of water. "You know," she began in her heavy voice. "I disagree." The family went silent. "It was not your fault, Kaikeyi. You need not say that. Let us do just as you suggested. We should not cry any longer." Kaikeyi lifted her up by the arm, and leaving their steadily cooling breakfasts behind, the royal family of Kosala ventured towards the Throne Room.

It looked bleak and empty as ever. Shatrughan blinked as he stared at the king's throne, which he always had occupied on the working days; today was not one. His eyes lingered on it, but Shrutakirti pulled him to his old throne, the one of the youngest prince. The one he had not sat upon for ten years. Shatrughan settled down, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief, tears drawn to his eyes. Now it was awkward. "What now?" he asked.

Kaushalya had already begun to speak, her eyes watering with tears already. "You know? Ram always used to say that. Whenever we finished with something very important or very dangerous, he looked around, eyebrows raised, and asked "What now?" It was just the funniest thing, the boy who always knew exactly what to do, suddenly finding that he had absolutely nothing to do! The most bewildered emotion flashed across his face."

Sumitra nodded, patting her armrest comfortably. "Oh I remember that!" she cried.

Flashback

The battle was over and done. The four princes, two of them eighteen and two sixteen, helped lug armor inside the palace, reassure the soldiers, take the armor, and survey everything. Ram had, of course, helped his father, sat with him in the chariot. It was his very first battle, or at least the first one he had rode into, and his veins were still filled with adrenaline.

Bharat walked up to him, taking his large crown that protocol suggested he always had to wear in public, even in war, where everyone was too busy killing or getting killed to care exactly what crown Yuvraj Ram was wearing. Ram shook off the dirt and the armor and beamed, hugging the first person he found, which happened to be Lakshman, who turned purple at how hard he squeezed. "Bhaiyya?" he wheezed as Bharat cracked up.

The four brothers gathered at the courtyard. Ram couldn't help but feel that something had just ended, and looked around confusedly. "Well, that was fun. What now?"

Present

Bharat beamed. "Oh! I have something! It's about Sita! She always said that she hated practical jokes, and that she would never do them upon anyone in her life, but she actually broke that oath once!" She leaned back for a moment, as if treasuring that memory. "Best day of my life, when that happened. I wish that I would have been allowed to plan with her."
Flashback

"Aaaaah!" Sita shrieked, jumping back. Somewhere, the raucous laughter of Shatrughan could be heard echoing down the halls as he must have been racing away. As the sound grew quieter and quieter still, Sita growled in anger. Her entire jewelry chest was filled with dead spiders, eight legs still waving in the air. She had accidentally picked one up, and it crunched between her fingers. It was so disgusting that her entire body shuddered as she fell back onto her bed, scheming.

The next day, Shatrughan was busy eating. Sita watched him with narrowed eyes as his own suddenly widened. He bit down again on whatever he was chewing, and this time, he had caught the attention of Bharat, who stared at him with concern. Again, he bit down, before his eyes widened, and he spat something out. The entire family seemed to lean forward to look at his plate, upon which was a half-crunched dead spider, the same as he had placed the day before in Sita's.

"Oops," Sita whispered with cynic in her voice. "Must have dropped one in there by accident. I should be more careful. Those are poisonous." Shatrughan stepped back and ran towards the medication room, only for Sita to finish her sentence. "-in no world." And the entire family sat back, vowing never to prank Sita again. Shatrughan now had a lasting fear of eating dead spiders.

Present

Shatrughan hung onto Shrutakirti tightly, paling at the memory, as everybody except him and his wife laughed at that memory. Shrutakirti turned to glare at Bharat. "How about something less traumatizing, hmm? How about Sita and Ram's behavior around the palace? They all acted like lovebirds while the other three of us couples could only watch.

Flashback

They were in the markets. The city of Ayodhya had been a little cleared out so that the four couples could shop. Shatrughan put a thick green glass bangle on Shrutakirti hopefully, and she shook it around with a big grin, nodding excitedly. Lakshman was trying to drag Urmila away from the paintbrush stand, but she refused to budge, pulling him right back every time as he gave up and tried to venture off on his own for the weapons. Mandavi and Bharat both looked through paintings in another stand. But as Shrutakirti raised up her bangled hand to show Sita, she found her sister staring into the eyes of Ram, who stared right back, both with lazy smiles on their faces.

They were in the courtyard. "And that was when I finally beat Lakshman at something!" Shatrughan cried as the entire family, except Lakshman of course, burst into laughter. "It took you two whole months to fall in love, and me? Only a week! Of course, Shrutakirti made it very obvious-" Shrutakirti pinched him. "That she was in love with me! I did too, but I'm just extra about everything, you know? How long did it take for Ram bhaiyya to fall in love?" he looked towards Ram. "Ram bhaiyya?" But he was too busy engaging in a quiet conversation with Sita, who occasionally giggled.

They were in the palace. Bharat stormed through the corridors. Finally, he reached around the corner and grabbed Lakshman, pulling him towards him. "Wow, you're heavy." Bharat muttered as he looked at his second brother. "Ah well. Do you know where Ram bhaiyya is? I plan to make a royal portrait of his crown! It's a piece of art worthy of being documented all on its own! That, and it's the literal size of a person itself." Lakshman rolled his eyes and dragged Bharat towards Ram and Sita's room where they were -you guessed it-acting all lovey dovey. Bharat gagged. "Yeah, I might paint that crown later." And then the two brothers, one anti-PDA, and one too much of a hopeless romantic to interrupt hopeless romance, rushed away before they interrupted.

Present

"Those were the times," Mandavi agreed wholeheartedly. "I think most of us have shared something, no? This was a good idea, Maa Kaikeyi, to assemble us so. We all had a good laugh, and we remembered our brothers and sister who are in exile. Anniversaries should be spent remembering, not mourning someone who is not even dead!" Then, she turned towards Urmila, who too smiled back at her. "What about you, Urmi? Anything?"

Before Bharat, ever-emotional and ever-sensitive and sometimes not very sensible but hey he tried Bharat, pulled her back, Urmila heard, and the family fell silent. She began to speak, letting out a soft sigh. "Ram bhaiyya and Sita bhabhi were the only ones willing to sit down for a portrait. The rest of you all were too impatient." she murmured.

Flashback

"Ram bhaiyya!" Ram turned around from his long walk as Urmila rushed up, breathing hard, and leaning on the wall. "God, you men walk too fast. I mean, are you trying to run a marathon, or what?" Shaking her head, she straightened herself and beamed. "Anyways, you ought to feel very honored! I plan to make you the first person in my collection of portraits of the royal family! Seeing as you are the Yuvraj, it would be very symbolic to have you first, don't you think?" Before Ram could politely decline, she dragged him to her painting room, sat him down with a sword heirloom, and began to paint. Ram did not even move a muscle till she was done, and Urmila proclaimed him the most obedient subject she had ever painted.

"SITAAAA!" Sita rushed into Urmila's room. "I don't know what to paint," Urmila pouted, staring at her canvas wisely. Before Sita could suggest a vase, or a feather, or perhaps even Urmila's husband, the painter extraordinaire turned towards her. "You! Perfect! You're the most beautiful woman on this Earth, who wouldn't want to paint you?" Urmila grasped her arm gently and pushed her onto a stool, handing her an armful of flowers, and putting on her the largest tiara ever beheld on this Earth. "Perfectomundo." was complimented to the princess, before she was shooed off so that the artist could admire her painting.

Urmila peeked everywhere. Into the weapons rooms. In the kitchen. In the dining room. Finally, she reached their room and pulled her husband out, (not an easy feat), and into the painting room. "You are to be my next subject for painting!" she cried excitedly, jumping about. "Sit down, sit down, select a prop! I'll even give you a discount! You're the final piece in my royal family portrait set, all twelve of us, you know?"

Lakshman burst into laughter, shaking his head and immediately sitting up. "Nope! I'm not getting painted! I can't possibly sit still for hours upon end, not moving at all! It would be a chore for me!" He turned towards the sofa, and gave a grimace at the sword. "Besides, that thing is fake. Too blunt to even cut my finger, forget kill a monster or battle with! You ought to take this." he unsheathed a real sword from his waistband and handed it to her.

Urmila stumbled for a second under the weight before setting the fifty pound metal sword down and beaming toothily right back at him. "See? You're just as dramatic as all the painting subjects are, procuring a sword out of nowhere! Practically born for fine arts modeling! Now all we have to do is change your mood!" She handed him back the sword and sat him down again, quickly brushing strokes on the canvas. But he was not nearly as compliant as everyone else, and most certainly not bound down by the guilt of her already having begun the painting. He set the sword down calmly, and walked out of the room.

"I will not be painted! I am a monster-killer too unbelievable and unimaginable and unprocurable to be painted! Art is for the Urmilas in this world, not the Lakshmans!"

Present

Urmila stared off into the distance, her face one of deep thought. "And he was right! He's my husband, and I can never remember enough of him to paint him! It's like the subject is escaping my grasp! It's quite interesting, per say. Never happened to me before." And with that, she looked around, squeezing Sumitra's hand, and walked away, leaving the family in reverent silence. Sumitra looked after her daughter-in-law, her hands folded in her lap tightly to keep her from crying.

A/N-Okay, okay, first of all, thanks are in order for @Apukar. Thank you so so so so much for the prompt! This chapter would not have existed without them, so if you see them in the comments section, and didn't completely hate the chapter, go ahead and thank them some more from my side!

Probably one of the better chapters in the era. This is what I probably thought of as "playful". It has equal parts humor and emotion. So, *thumbs up*. I'm glad. Alright, I'm very glad that this is finally working out. Why am I typing all of this stuff? I think I'm just hyperactive because I'm listening to "Happy" by Pharell Williams. Normally, I listen to Shostakovich Symphony 7 or Symphony 10. More macho. The sad thing is...is that this is the final chapter in this era. NOOOOO! Just when my playful talent was finally showing up. You know, I write angst when I need fluff, and vice versa. Like talent, what are you doing? Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to you? I am but a humble devotee to the Gods, a simple writer not even trying to make a living, just hoping to write decently. Am a harmless human being!