That evening, right after the royal chariot left, all Ram did was brood. He sat in the middle of his cottage, right by the candlelight, food left untouched, hands under his chin, looking off into nowhere. Nothing seemed to be able to awaken him from his trance, not the inviting aroma of SIta's cooking, nor the loud shouts of Lakshman from far away. No, Ram was fully in a world of his own, mulling over things too stressful to talk about.

All he could think of was his father. Raja Dasharath, but more than a king, or a father, his Papa. The Papa that had nurtured him when they were growing up. The first memories he had were of his father. The thick, compact beard, full of black hair, black hair that he had scarcely seen since Gurukul. The large, heavy crown, the crown of a king, a wide, pearly smile as he played with his firstborn son. That man was dead.

Ram did not know what to do. He did not know where to go. All he could think of were memories, faint and wispy, of his father during his childhood. His pampering, regal, proud father. Everything he had ever aspired to be. Righteous, a follower of dharma, ever upholding truth. The graceful and beloved King of Kosala. The father of the four princes. His father.

Flashback

"Ram, Ram!" laughed Dasharath as a three year old boy with dark complexion and hair ran towards him. Dasharath reached down and lifted him up, twirling him around in the air. Ram laughed merrily as he whirled around the room, his eyes catching the flashes of light reflecting off of the jewels in the pillars. He waved his hands and Dasharath brought him down, sitting him on his lap, where Ram could see the entire court.

"You see, Ram? You will one day have this entire court to yourself! One day, when I am very, very, old, bone thin and weak, and you are a handsome young man, married and all, you will be the next king of Kosala." Ram's eyes widened at this thought, and he scooted a bit closer to his father and further away from the courtiers. "Son, what's wrong?" Dasharath asked with concern in his voice. Did Ram not want to be king?
"Papa-what if I am a bad king?" Ram asked softly, staring at all the courtiers. He had seen since the very first days of his childhood, how not even one had ever missed a day in his father's court. Would they ever miss a day in his court? Ram had been brought up knowing that he would be the next king. Though Kaushalya often worried of the burden it would place on him, Ram wanted to be the next king. "Papa, what if I disappoint you?"

Dasharath burst into laughter. Then he quieted down and stroked his mustache as Ram sat on the throne next to him, ice blue eyes darting from courtier to courtier curiously as they stared back in slight fear. "Son, you were born to rule. Not only is it in your blood, but I can see it in the way you act. None of your brothers could be the destined ruler for in the terms of leadership, you outstrip them all. Besides, I don't think any of them want to be king either."

Dasharath looked up from his firstborn, and saw Bharat waving around a color set, Lakshman, at age two, managing to scare away a courtier with a simple glare, and Shatrughan quietly snatching Lakshman's armlet when he wasn't looking, resulting in him being pushed over once Lakshman noticed the absence. "No-no, they definitely don't want to." He looked back down at Ram-apple of his eye. "You will never disappoint me, son. Never."

Present

"I did-father. I did." he cried softly, clasping his hands together and biting his lip so hard that the skin cracked, just so he wouldn't cry. He couldn't disappoint his father again.

Flashback

"Remember, son." Dasharath proclaimed as they walked down the courtyard of the palace. Ram looked up curiously. He was not seven, and Dasharath had taken up his education before he would go to Gurukul. "Remember. You will be the future king of Ayodhya, a better one than I and your ancestors, I am sure! You are knowledgeable and proud, and are the worthy product of the Raghu-Ikshvaku-Suryavanshi clan."

He looked down as Ram puffed his chest out, and chuckled good-naturedly. "Ram, son, you will always be worthy of the throne, no matter what, but remember this. You need to show it. You need to show to everyone that is doubtful, and this is how you do it. Puff out your chest. Let no weakness overcome you. Never, never bow your head, you have Kosala's heavy name upon it. Remember, a kshatriya fights till the last breath his body takes. No sadness or sorrow should make you cry for a second time. Not a tear should escape your eyes."

Present

Sita walked up to Lakshman the next day, her brows furrowed together. He was sitting under a tree, sharpening his sword, and immediately stood up as he heard her approach. "Lakshman, something has happened to Ram." she hissed, looking with concern back to the cottage before turning back to her brother-in-law. "He has not moved from his position even once since yesterday."
Lakshman winced, leaning back. He thought he knew what that could be. Ram bhaiyya and Papa were always quite close. Papa had doted upon Ram, bestowing jewels and titles and gold upon his name, and he in turn, met all of his expectations. It must have been a bit of a shock to, for once, not be able to see his father again. Besides, he didn't expect the fact that everyone had pleaded so hopefully, only to be rejected, had made the situation any better. If anything, it only made Ram more conflicted.

"Bhabhi," he began tentatively. "Papa is dead." Sita put her head into her hands. Yes! Of course! Why hadn't she figured it out! Anyone would be upset if their father died from separation from them. It would have plagued her with guilt, knowing that though she had no option, she could have done something differently. "They were always very close." Lakshman murmured almost a bit sadly.

Sita's head darted up towards his wistful face, and for once, she thought that perhaps Dasharath had ignored his other sons. Perhaps he had not paid them as much attention as he had Ram. His firstborn. Heir to his throne. But this turned out not to be the reason Lakshman was sad. "I wish I could do something, bhabhi. Something to bring him out."
Sita looked up with a grin, snapping her fingers. "Yes! That's perfect! We could distract him with a surprise party!" she squealed loudly. Lakshman looked ready to nod excitedly, but his face immediately paled, and he winced, shaking his head and running away into the forest. Sita raised an eyebrow. What could have happened. Then she face plamed again. She hadn't exactly said that quietly enough for it to remain a surprise, had she?

She turned around slowly, hopefully, but she could hear Ram clearing his throat and stepping out of the hut amusedly. He blinked at the sun for a few seconds, eyes squinted, as if he never could have expected the sky to be so bright. He then looked towards Sita amusedly. "Surprise party?" he asked bemusedly. "For whom? We're in a jungle. How could we possibly throw a surprise party?"
Sita bit her lip for a second, before she came up with a plan. "Raghav, with the way you said it, it didn't really remain a surprise, did it?" Ram raised an eyebrow, and she pretended to be exasperated with him. "My goodness, I was about to throw a surprise party for Lakshman over here! Now it isn't a surprise anymore, is it?" Ram cleared his throat, shoulders a bit slumped for a second.

"Why?" he asked, befuddled. He picked up his bow a bit cautiously, as if he almost thought Sita was a demon.

Sita exhaled nasally. Good, he didn't know or suspect anything enough to believe her little white lie. "You must be joking, Ram!" she giggled, walking up to him and smacking his arm playfully. Ram jumped, clearing his throat, and raised an eyebrow. She pretended to lose her joking face, turning into frustration. "You forgot Lakshman's birthday? It's tomorrow, you know?" she asked innocently. In truth, Lakshman's birthday was not for a few months, but he didn't know that, right?

He didn't. Ram turned a pale white and dropped his bow and quiver of arrows without thought. "Oh no," he whispered as Lakshman walked into the clearing, raising an eyebrow, having heard everything. "Oh no! Oh no! I forgot your birthday!" he cried melodramatically. "OH NO!" He stumbled back into a chair, as Lakshman internally smirked. Perfect.

"Bhaiyya!" he cried accusingly, drawing a few tears to his eyes, some of which flowed down his cheeks. Sita marveled at the acting skills he definitely shared with Shatrughan. "How dare you!" He threw his arms into the air and clenched his jaw, a look of hurt covering his inner thoughts. "I-I would have never thought! I thought brothers remembered each others' birthdays! Well, I guess you must have forgotten all about me. In the background." He gave a large, long sniffle, and Sita barely bit back her laughter as he stalked away.

"Well," she pretended to admonish. "You really truly shouldn't have forgotten, Ram. I will now check on his health." With that, she two walked away with her nose in the air, leaving Ram putting his head in his hands in the cottage. Finally, she managed to reach a smaller clearing in the forest, where Lakshman was standing. She reached him and grimaced. "Do you think that was too harsh?" she asked.

Lakshman shrugged. "I'm surprised he forgot when my actual birthday was, or else how could we have tricked him? Besides, this is perfect! We can easily now plan under the cover of me being upset, can't we?" Sita nodded, a bit hesitant, as she walked around the clearing, taking everything in. "Bhabhi, how do you plan a surprise party?" Sita immediately looked up from her hands and grinned, rubbing her hands together. This would be the surprise party of the century!

Two Hours Later...

"Arya!" cried Sita, running back towards the hut. Ram immediately snapped his head up, eyes widened. He had been worrying about his brother for hours upon end, it felt like, and the urgent look on Sita's face did not do anything to alleviate his worries. Over and over again, his mind flushed with guilt over how he had forgotten the birthday of his brother. He had never! Yet, for some reason, his mind kept popping up with a different date. "ARYA!" Sita shrieked again, and Ram looked up once more.

He immediately sat up, unfolding his arms across his chest and grabbing his bow tightly, something he often did to try to calm himself down. It always seemed to work, and even then, his heart slowed down a little bit and he steadied his breathing. "Yes, what is it?" he inquired concernedly, trying not to grit his teeth. "What has happened? Where is Lakshman? Is he alright? Is he okay?"

Sita shook her head, breathing heavily, her face turning red. "No! No! We were planning a surprise party to cheer you up, so we orchestrated a plan and everything," Even through the tenseness, Ram felt a little bit touched, and could not stop the blush that took over his face. "But-we knew that there was this one tree berry or something that you really liked, and we were going to include a bowlful of that. But then-he fell off the tree! All his bones are broken!" She burst into tears and pulled Ram away from the hut.

Ram felt his heartbeat quickening as they neared. He could see the footsteps, one large, one small. He took a deep, shuddery breath as they entered the clearing, and Sita smiled widely. The cover story Lakshman had not approved of, and it was quite hard to lie to Ram yet again, but they managed to pull it off. It was all worth it to see the smile blooming on her husband's face as he saw the bowls of food, the flowers strung on garlands, and the large rangolis everywhere.

"How did this happen?" he asked, but his voice was muffled when Sita stuffed a homemade sweet into his mouth. He almost choked, but plopped down contentedly to eat as Sita sat next to him.

"Anything can happen, I suppose." she looked up at the sky. "With love."

A/N-I don't know what to feel about this one. I mean, I don't mind it. I also don't love it. It's kind of a love/hate relationship. Nonetheless, I am happy with this one. Double Update!!!