Inspired by @sharangapani's post on the IMQ server:
1.
The babe has tiny feet, and when Kunti tickles them, they gleam gold.
“What a lovely child,” the maid says, despite her disapproval, just as Kunti hides his legs in his swaddle.
Like this, here is nothing special about the child. No great god will ever be traced back from him, no angry demon will seek from him his father’s retribution. Her maid will help her send him away – she is only guarding herself from a girlish folly, not doing something that might anger the gods. So little luck, Kunti thinks, but still, there are some things to be grateful about.
She thinks differently when the child kicks the basket and the divine boot sends the woven lid flying; when he moves the way babes do, joyful and squirmy, and the sun reflects the shine of his gifts, blinding with wealth, attractive to all manner of unsavoury men.
“Lord,” she prays, bent over. “Lord, look after him, for he is yours, and now he has no one. Send him to someone who loves.” And Surya, cruel and wise and mourning, does.
2.
Radha finds a babe laden in gold. His armour, so tight it is as if it is fused to skin, gleams; his kicking feet hit with the might of hard metal.
“Divine,” she declares, “and god-given.”
Adhiratha does not speak. His brow is furrowed, troubled, but he picks the child up anyway, cradles him against his chest.
Radha holds his hands, and counts ten little fingers, kisses each. They curl against her mouth, tiny nails pricking her like old needles. She moves to his little legs, holds each one as Adhiratha sways, makes faces at him. The babe giggles.
Radha tugs at a shoe. It does not budge. She tugs again.
“Huh.”
“You hold him,” her husband says, in the proud and slightly mocking way men do when their wives need help in some task of physical strength. “Let me try once.”
Adhiratha tries once. Adhiratha tries twice. Adhiratha tries thrice. He tries four times, five times and then six, notices his wife’s tilted smirk.
Adhiratha straightens, head held high. “Shoe’s not coming off,” he says with dignity, and stalks away. Radha runs after, half-laughing and half asking about doctors and soaps and other instruments of relief, child in her arms and joy in her heart.
3.
“Oooh, look at him, suited and booted, come to fight!” Prince Bheema glowers at him, hooting lost to a shout of rage. “Good boots does not a king make! Go back to your horses and your whip.”
Vasusena shakes a little, down to his toes. It makes his boots rattle a little against the earth, a dull clunk-thud, barely audible amidst the people’s cheers, but embarrassing nonetheless.
Duryodhana blusters some answers. Bheema blusters back. Arjuna picks his bow in challenge, but the fight is left unfinished.
Duryodhana takes him home.
In the splendour of the royal palace, Empress Gandhari runs her hands over his face, his shoulders, and his armour, in the manner of one who cannot see seeking the shape of what they wish to know.
“What is this?” she asks of him, at the carvings.
“An armour, divine in origin, and most beautiful,” Duryodhana boasts, as if it is his own. It is. Vasusena is his, has been since that moment when the angry prince Duryodhana came to defend him, will be till the bitter, bitter end.
“And shoes as well, I hear,” Dhritarashtra says.
“Bheema is too much!” Duryodhana shouts.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he says, and when he rises, Gandhari is smiling.
The Emperor shakes his head. “No, not that. I hear him when he walks, even though he is rather quiet. Well, child, if you be my son’s friend, I hope I shall hear your steps in my halls many times more.”
Vasusena bows. The blind Emperor does not know it, but the Empress, with her hands on his shoulders, does.
+1.
Afterwards, when the satisfaction of having the king of gods shamed and holding his boots is gone, when his skin has healed to a smooth baby pink; afterwards, when he goes home, and his son runs to greet him at the door – to touch his feet – and stops; afterwards, there is no creature as wretchedly startled as Vasusena.
He stands in the grass for a long while, feeling it tickling his toes. It is a sensation violently gentle, one he cannot help but long for, half-nauseous with the feeling like a starving, hungering thing.
Vrishasena takes him by the arm and leads him inside. The floor is cool under his feet, the marble slightly damp from recent wiping. His bed is soft against the length of his body, and so is Padmavati when she hugs him, but differently, half familiar and half not. He holds her close as she laments and weeps, and her tears burn.
They sit together a long time, till day sinks into dusk and then night, and lamplit houses twinkle in the horizon. Vrishasena returns the hour before dinner, a lumpy thing in each hand.
“Father,” he says, placing them by his feet. At Vasusena’s uncomprehending look, he lifts them meaningfully in the air.
“Shoes,” he says.
Shoes.
For him.
For Vasusena.
For a moment, Vasusena cannot breathe with the well of love within him, can only shove his feet into them and stand, wobbly with the foreign feel of wood on skin, and the familiarity of something important, however briefly, gone missing. Then he reaches out to his son, brighter than any sun, dearer than the kingdoms of gods and men, and thinks he understands Indra a little more. He, too, would beg someone’s shoes for Vrishasena.
Context: There was light awkwardness with the first meeting with Vlad but that got resolved because ya boy wants Uncle Vlad. ANyway, This would be recently after Danny unintentionally became Ghost King!
Enjoy!
"Hey ah.. Vlad? I think my core's being funny, it's all tingly like when you lick an electric socket." Danny winces touching his chest. It had been like this since the Pariah dark issue, so a good two weeks. The ghosts had been relentless at first before promptly backing off sense yesterday, Ember even wincing and telling him to go home.
"I'm sorry when you-" Heavy sigh from Vlad, which made him stifle a laugh "- We'll circle back to that issue later, what exactly is wrong with your core?"
He touches his chest again and transform, the sensation getting a little, actually not that was a LOT worse than Yesterday. "O-oh that um..ouch that's worse than yesterday." He wheezes doubling over in pain. "Daniel! What-"
Huh that was weird he had never heard Vlad panic sounding since..well ever really. He couldn't really focus either a static ringing noise blurring out whatever his uncle was saying. He flinches back when warm hands rest on his shoulders the feeling fading for a blissful second before the warmth left him and the feeling slamming back into him.
"Vlad? something..I think somethings wrong." He whispers, the cackling feeling like it was pulling at his very body. A lump forms in his throat as he tries not to scream out in pain. It felt like something was clawing at his chest, tearing at his body- and it smelled like..like a thunderstorm or something metal.
He can't open his eyes either, the pain was ripping into him. He didn't even realize he was stumbling back until he hit something, a wall?
"DANIEL!"
His eyes fly open when he finally hears his uncle, his vision clouded by..was that green electricity? The sizzling crackling noise got louder, tears welling in his eyes as the feeling started pulsing through him in waves almost like a heartbeat which quickened each second. "V-vlad? It-" He chokes out looking over his shoulder, freezing when he saw his uncles face.
"Help."
Everything went dead silent but the feelings didn't stop, they got worse, a scream tearing from his lips before everything went dark.
First time writing Empires and Hermits. I havent written much fanfic in my time. I am typically the one reading. But take this, cause I needed to write heartbreak.
Pairing - Team Rancher
Short lil oneshot.
As usual, there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, providing no shade or cool from the extreme sun. The sun was high in the sky, and the church bell had rung 12 to signal midday. The day would only get hotter from here.
Jimmy had a thought to send the Hermit home, suggest he return at night, when the desert cooled to a chill more fitting. But, the day had, so far, been quiet and the Sherif was enjoying the company. Granted they weren’t doing much, just watching the sheep graze. But it was nice. It was calm. It felt good.
Leaning over the fence, Jimmy fanned himself with his hat. Sitting atop the fence, the hermit continued on a topic Jimmy had yet to comprehend. Automated sheering? Seemed inhumane. The large hat Tango had borrowed flopped about as he listed different ideas, and the materials available that they could use. Jimmy suspected that the owner had bewitched the hat, to keep Tango cool. Eventually, the hermit trailed off, after losing his train of thought. It was a comfortable silence, with the faint noise of the sheep and their occasional noise, and the distant chatter of the residents of Tumble Town.
It was the hermit who started the conversation again, though this time, not about sheep shearing, or his surprise that the sheep could survive in the heat.
“We had a meeting,” Tango said, almost nervously. “The hermits. We all got together, and had a talk. And we decided it was time to go.”
Jimmy’s hand stilled, and he turned his head to look up at the blue schemed creature. “Go?”
Tango seemed to avoid looking all together. “Yeah…We’ve stayed long enough, and it’s time to continue on, find new places.”
“On, like a trip?”
Tango shook his head.
“Go as in…leave?”
Tango nodded.
“Ya’d come back, though, right?”
“I mean…it’s possible? In my lifetime, we’ve never returned to previous spots we claimed. But, there’s still then possibility we could. I mean, we hermits have a decent lifespan, so there’s nothing to say we won’t or will.” Tango pulled the brim of his hat downwards, in an attempt to cease his nervous rambling.
“I ain’t gonna ever see ya again, ain’t I?” Jimmy placed his hat back on his head.
“Not likely.”
It hurt.
In a sharp second, his contentment was gone, and his chest hurt. It was like he had been shot, yet somehow worse. “..you could stay..”
Warnings: This is smut. Some floofiness, but mostly smut. So 18+ only.
A/N: It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything, but I was able to get this out today. Thank you to my lovely beta @fandomoniumflurry for his editing and encouragement. Feedback fuels my muse. If you’d like to see my other works, go here or here. If you enjoy my work and would like to buy me a coffee, you can do so here.
(not my gif)
The ceremony had been perfect. Of course it had. Danneel had planned it herself. Dean was still wondering how he’d caught the eye of the beautiful redhead actress in the first place, nevermind ended up married to her. It had been, what some would call, a whirlwind romance, the pair getting married less than a year after meeting. But Dean knew when he met the spitfire that she was the one for him.
At the end of the reception, the pair had gone out to the Impala, which was now decorated with beer cans, silly string and window paint with the message “Just Married” on the back window, all compliments of her brother, Gino and Sam. Normally, Dean wouldn’t like if anyone messed with his car, but this would be the only exception. Because she was his only exception. They drove off into the night, heading for a luxurious hotel in the next town, where they’d be staying until they took off for their honeymoon the next day.
They’d met on a routine haunting case. One of the sets of a film she was working on had a ghost problem and Sam and Dean had rolled into town to take care of it. In the process of interviewing witnesses, Dean had come upon Danneel. He’d stumbled over his words and made a bit of an ass of himself, which was unlike the elder brother to do. He was usually smooth with the ladies, but this one, this one had gotten him flustered. The way she looked at him, the way her voice sounded in his ears, the way she smelled. He was glad he had Sam there as backup, even though the younger brother would later tease Dean for being so smitten.
Later that night, the brothers had been out at a local bar and once again, the redhead was present. With a little alcohol in his system, Dean was more sure of himself and slid up to her side. But once she smiled at him again, his confidence faltered a little. A couple rounds of drinks and more talking with a woman than Dean had ever done, and he knew. Knew that this could be the one. But with his hunter life, there really wasn’t much room for settling down.
Sam was the one that had convinced Dean to give it a try. He could tell that his brother was serious about this woman when he kept texting her and calling her nearly every night. During the course of these conversations, Dean had told her about being a hunter. He hadn’t meant to tell her, but he’d blurted it out. Disappointment filled him for the few moments she was silent on the other end, then he could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke. “So you’re a real live superhero? That’s pretty awesome. You should come see me again soon.”
It was after that conversation that Sam had badgered Dean into going back to California to see the actress. Finally giving in, the Impala headed to the City of Angels. The trip was long, but Dean was filled with new found hope for the future. Maybe there was a way to balance a hunter life and a normal life. She knew what he was and what he did and still wanted to see him. That had to count for something.
And so the brothers made their visit and by the end of it, had already made plans to go back very soon. Sam liked this change in his brother. Dean was much more cheerful, much happier than Sam had seen him in….well...maybe ever.
Several months passed, with the brothers visiting California and Danneel meeting them on cases several times. She never once said anything bad about the motels they stayed at, never looked down at them for living out of their car. She’d even insisted on paying for their stays and sometimes helped them with research.
Their first official date had been Dean taking her to lunch, then to a shooting range to teach her how to use a gun. When they returned to the motel, they’d gotten their own room for the remainder of the stay. Sam just chuckled and shook his head, clearly knowing what was going on in the other room.
About six months after they met, the brothers were in Vermont. The scenery was beautiful, the fall leaves filling the skyline with an array of colors. It was here that Dean pleaded with Danneel to meet him. It didn’t take much convincing to get her on a plane to the east coast. When Dean met her at the airport, he told her he had a surprise for her.
He drove down a long, winding dirt road and stopped at a secluded spot next to a lake. Sam had been there while Dean was picking the actress up, setting up the picnic. The air was cool, but still held on to some of it’s summer heat. The sun was shining and the blanket was spread with an assortment of food and wine, setting the stage. After much faltering, which Danneel barely seemed to notice, Dean had gotten out the words and proposed to her. Much to his delight, she’d said yes.
Dean was shaken from his memories by the voice of his now wife. “If you don’t hurry up in there, I’m going to start without you.” she said, laughing softly. Dean grinned and rid himself of the tuxedo he wore. He returned to the bedroom of the suite and his smile brightened even more when he saw what she wore. It was a simple white camisole top with matching panties. In truth, she could have been wearing a burlap sack and he’d still think she was the most beautiful being on the planet.
Usually their lovemaking was hot and heavy, but tonight, he wanted to take things slow. He wanted to really take his time and savor her. He slid up onto the bed next to her and draped his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close then lifted her chin to look at him. He smiled then pecked her lips softly. “I love you, Mrs. Winchester.” She turned to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “And I love you, Mr. Winchester.”
At these words, Dean brought his lips a little more forcefully against hers. She moaned softly into the kiss, her fingers dancing over the back of his neck. Before he knew it, she was straddling his lap and he laughed. “So much for taking things slow, huh?” Her laughter joined his. “Hey, I’m not a fragile doll, Dean. No need to treat me as such.”
His hands moved to caress her ass, then grip it gently. “Oh, I know that. Very well. But I don’t know. I just…” He blushed slightly. “I guess I just thought tonight would be different somehow. That we’d do things differently.” She pecked his lips repeatedly, then pulled back to look at him. “If you want to take things slow, then we certainly can. But don’t be surprised if at some point I just attack you. You have a way of driving me crazy.”
She licked her lips, then moved off his lap to lay on the bed next to him. He smiled down at her, then leaned down to kiss her lips, then over her jaw and down her neck. “I want to really take the time to please you, to learn everything that you like. I know some spots, but I want to know them all.”
His mouth moved back up to her lips as his hand slid under the silky top she wore. He found one perky nipple and tweaked it gently for a moment before moving to the other. He deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth. A low groan emitted from him. Just simply kissing her got his motor going, but still, he’d take his time.
A calloused hand massaged her breasts for a moment before he sat her up a bit and slowly lifted her top off. Moving down on the bed a bit, he lifted his eyes to hers for a moment before leaning down and taking one pert nipple into his mouth. She began making those little sounds that always drove him crazy. He moved to the other nipple and gave it the same attention. Her back arched slightly and he chuckled against her skin.
After a few moments, he began kissing down her body, stopping just at the top of her panties. “Why did you stop?” she asked in almost a pleading voice. “I told you. I want to take my time.” he stated, flashing her a wink before moving thick digits lightly over her already dampened panties. Her legs parted more and a soft moan escaped from her lush lips. This slow pace would surely kill him, but he knew it would be worth it for the both of them in the end.
He moved back up her body to kiss her lips, fingers still remaining on her clothed core. “Tell me what you want, Dani.” he spoke in a gruff whisper. “I want you, Dean. I just want you. However you want me.” He chuckled softly and pecked her lips. “I’m not one to deny a lady her wishes.”
He flashed her a wink and moved to kneel between her legs. He slid off her panties, his eyes sparkling with love and lust for his new wife. She was now nude before him, all his for the taking. It would be difficult to not just ravage her, but he knew he could do it. He moved down and positioned himself so his face was right above her core. He could smell her arousal and that made him harden even more.
He quickly lifted his eyes to her and smiled when he saw her lick her lips in anticipation. A few breaths were blown on her naked core and he grinned when she whimpered. His tongue peeked out and took a few tentative swipes of her slit. He couldn’t hold back much longer. He needed her just as much as she needed him.
Calloused thumbs spread her pussy lips apart and opened her up to him. He licked his lips before diving in. His tongue moved from her opening to her clit, circling around the sensitive nub as she moaned and tugged at his hair. Plush lips wrapped around her clit and suckled gently as his tongue flicked over it. “Jesus, Dean.” she spoke breathlessly. He groaned against her slick flesh as his tongue now devoured her.
He lifted his hand and slid two fingers deep inside her. Her walls tightened around the digits as he began to move them slowly in and out of her channel. His eyes moved to watch her and he groaned once again when he saw that she was playing with her nipples as he worked over her pussy.
His fingers curled within her and began a steady rhythm. Her breathing was more ragged now and after a few moments, a third finger joined the others. Her fingers gripped his hair tighter and her back arched up off the bed. “Fuck, Dean! You’re gonna make me cum.” she whimpered. Without speaking, he just grinned and slurped and sucked at her clit like a starving man.
It wasn’t long before he felt her walls throbbing around his fingers, signaling that she was oh, so close to her end. Fingers pumped harder, faster, his tongue swirling quicker, wanting to taste her sweet release. Her body tensed up and she held his face to her core as her orgasm crashed over her. Those delicious moans coming from her made Dean very aware of how painfully erect he was. His cock was straining his boxers, but that would have to wait for now. For now, he’d ride out this wave with his wife.
He pulled his fingers free of her and lapped up her juices off them, then smiled up at her before leaning back down and gently swiping his tongue over her pussy a few more times. “Come here.” she spoke with ragged breath, and once again not wanting to deny his woman, he complied and moved up to lay next to her. Fingers danced lightly over her soft skin as he kissed his bride.
She had other ideas, though, and began to move down between his legs. He knew what she had in mind, and though she was an expert at this, he wanted to skip that part on this night. He pulled her up and held her in his arms. “Oh, no. Not tonight, love. As much as I enjoy that, I just want to be in you.” He laid her back on the bed and moved to hover over her. He kissed her lips, then down over her neck before quickly standing to rid himself of his boxers.
He moved to once again hover over her and positioned himself between her legs. He leaned down and kissed her as he gripped his shaft and slid it over her clit a few times. He chuckled against her lips when he felt her twitching below him, then he lined himself up with her entrance. A loud groan emitted from him as he slowly pushed himself inside her. Her walls hugged him tightly, welcoming him in. “Goddamn, baby. You’re so tight. It drives me crazy.” he spoke in a gravelly voice.
He remained still in her for a moment before he felt her buck up against him a little and he chuckled. “A little eager, huh?” She just laughed softly and danced her fingers over his shoulders. He began a slow, steady rhythm within her, pushing in deep. After a few agonizing moments, he sped up his pace a little. The soft sound of skin on skin filled the air and he once again leaned down to kiss her.
This pace was kept for a few moments before Dean realized he couldn’t hold on to the slowness. He needed her. She needed him. The painted fingernails dragging down his back told him such. He began moving faster within her, rolling his hips as he thrust deep inside her. Her moans filled the air, urging him on. He grunted and groaned as he grew closer to his own release.
“Dean! Harder! Faster! Please!” she begged him, and once again not wanting to deny his lady, he complied. He was moving at a frantic pace within her, trying to hold back, but her walls were so tight around him, she felt so good in his arms and the sounds she was making made him dizzy with desire for her. He reached down and began to circle a finger around her clit, wanting to feel her cum around his cock before he was finished.
When she exploded on him, it was even more difficult for him to hold off, but he would for just a little longer. One more. He wanted to give her one more. He leaned down and kissed her before pulling back and looking into her eyes. “Get on your hands and knees, baby.” he gently ordered her.
She did as instructed and he caressed over her back and her ass before gripping his shaft and sliding it up and down her slit a few times. He pushed himself back into her tight walls, this time with her pushing back against him. He gripped her hips and pumped himself hard and fast within her. His balls slapped against her clit and soon she was trembling. “Fuck, Dean! God, your cock feels so good in me.” Oh, how he loved her dirty mouth. And the whimpering and moaning that was coming from her.
A few more hard pumps and she was sent over the edge once again. Her fingers gripped the sheets as he slowed his pace just a little. After she’d ridden out her climax, she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Cum in me, Dean. I want to feel you pump inside me.” He grinned at her and gripped her hips harder, resuming his frantic pace. It wasn’t long before he felt his balls tense up and then he was pumping his seed deep into her.
A few more hard thrusts then he pulled himself from her and fell to the bed, pulling her close to him. “Damn, baby. Not how I expected this to go, but still stellar as usual.” he said with a wide grin. The long day was catching up to him now and he realized how tired he was. He laughed when she yawned next to him. “It’s been a long, crazy day, huh? I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” he told her. He pulled the blankets up over them, knowing sleep would be coming soon. He kissed her head and held her tight. “Good night, Mrs. Winchester.” he said. She smiled up at him and pecked his lips. “Good night, my Superman.”
The God of Sorrow blinked slowly as he gave a small blow to the noise maker in his mouth, such a weak exsistance. He pulled off the hat from his head and looked to the bright and colorful letters saying "Birthday boy" it was the day he was created but it was exactly birthday. He hummed slowly as he slowly crushes the paper hat in his black claw hands.
"Yes.... happy birthday to... me" he whispered sadly, a slight anger in his small magenta eyes. Being in this lonely realm didn't mean a lot for he didn't have friends.
His back suddenly straightened as he felt something in his stomach, he grabbed it. What was this feeling.... of fullness. He saw a sight, a vision. It was a small figure, one mimicking a human child and they were burning a small birthday cake slice.
"Happy birthday, Sorrow. May we share the same birthday forever" he could see a small shrine in his making, not one of stone but of a small drawing.
He smiled as tears fell down his checks. He didn't feel so alone anymore.
Because @onceuponaprime got me on a inspiration kick for my glaive bab. Featuring his Silas because I love him very much.
When the glaive wakes up there’s a horrible ringing in her ears, her head filled with a terrible mist that shrouded every thought; no matter how hard she tried her eyes wouldn’t focus, not even on the simplest piece of gravel beneath her fingertips. How did she get here? Why couldn’t she remember a blessed thing? There was only the pain and the mist.
Through the ringing in her ears she picked up the distinct sound of tires on dirt and the clamor of voices, if distorted. An ache in her ribs flared as she struggled to roll over and sit up, coughing as dust filled her lungs and stung her eyes. Blurred out figures climbed out of the vehicle that had stopped within feet of her, a stocky gentleman and a taller man, both wearing all black. As the taller broke into a run the glaive could make out a smattering of five o’clock shadow growing along his jaw and she felt a smile pull at her lips. Confusion followed by a brief flash of memory prompted her to sit a little more rigid, ribs screaming out in pain.
Silas, did you misplace your razor again?
A young man glanced up at her from his post, shocked at first that she had spoken but quickly grinned.
I’m trying out something new, don’t make fun of me okay?
Me? Wouldn’t dream of it. It looks very distinguished on you. Maybe you’ll finally get a date, huh?
The man named Silas chuckled, nearly doubling over.
If only. I see I’m not the only one who changed though, you going green now? It looks good on you.
A pang of sadness filled her chest as she remembers the emerald eyes that had looked back at her that day.
Yeah, I think I like it a lot. Green suits me I’m told.
The glaive was pulled out of her memory, breath hitching as she felt tears stinging her eyes. Silas. She remembered something, someone. A friend. Along with the physical ache, the glaive felt a warmth at seeing him again even if it confused her to no end. She felt a hand settle on her shoulder and even more warmth spread, as a curative spell mended the smaller wounds, easing the pain in her ribs. Indeed, it was Silas who knelt before her, concerned etched into his face.
“Tzipporah, can you hear me?”
Another wave of relief as the name struck home. That sounded right, Tzipporah. Yeah that was her.
“I can hear you, sorry, lots of overwhelming things right now. You’re..Silas right?”
The biggest smile lit up the other glaives face as he pulled Tzipporah to her feet, his hands comfortingly hot against her clammy skin.
Ramayana game idea: you play as a lesser noblewoman serving as handmaid and companion to Mithila's princesses. Your kingdom is suddenly inundated by a bunch of princes and kings for the hand of your eldest princess. Your queen Sunaina would like to use this opportunity to springboard second princess Urmila's marriage to some reasonable powerful and well-mannered suitor. Her sister-in-law, queen Chandrabhaga of Sankasya and mother to two daughters, thinks this is an excellent idea! Young people are so often flighty, it would do them good to be married and settle down to respectable life in service of their nations and people! Look at the princes of Ayodhya! Four there four here – it is practically destined! And the girls would be together forever!!!
Unfortunately, your king, besides being a royal sage, is something of a romantic, and the elders do not seem to notice this rather obvious connection. Well, no matter! – the women are practical, and they know the real world! You are, therefore, summoned to their quarters. Queen Sunaina gently explains to you the gentle predisposition of the princes of Ayodhya (well, some of them), and equally gently asks you to direct the attentions of the princesses to their many manly charms. Surely, this is beneficial for both of you – as you are already close to the princesses, it would not be unseemly for you to try and gossip, and perhaps sway the affections of the girls. This way, not only would you receive a hefty promotion and have a royal sponsor for your dowry, the king, softened by the girls' affections, would be convinced to wed them. Sunaina and Chandrabhaga care little for political alliances, but their sons-in-law should be honourable men and protective of their girls.
Now your job is to convince your innocent, quiet, shy princesses of the compatibility and marriageable nature of Ayodhya's gremlin princes. This is extremely hard because
a) Rama, the best one, has already been snapped up by Sita
b) with Rama about to wed, Bharat is left holding the metaphorical leash around Lakshmana and Shatrughana's necks, and unused to the double dhamaka, the ever patient prince has become curt and withdrawn.
"The prince Bharat has such lovely manners!" you croon. Bharat turns to the manservant offering him water and offers a deadpan "thanks" while wrangling one of his brothers by the scruff. It is not the charming picture you hoped it would be.
c) Lakshmana yells. A lot.
"He is all silly bluster!" you insist. Urmila raises an eyebrow at you as Lakshmana tries to fistfight another king for insinuating that Janaka rigged the swayamvar.
You grasp at straws. "He's already so protective of his sister-in-law! Imagine how safe his wife would be."
"No thanks," Urmila scoffs. You despair.
d) the youngest prince is so... pampered.
"Bhaiyyaaaaaa," he whines, "I don't want to sleep."
"Then what do you want? To stay awake and stand guard in a protected palace?" Bharat scolds him.
"Drown yourself," Lakshmana scowls.
"Shatrughan, would you like a lullaby?" Rama asks.
"Yess!!!" says the youngest Raghu prince.
Shrutakeerti listens to this account from a manservant and looks at you cautiously.
"This is a secondhand account," you plead, all but begging, "and not trustworthy! Mithila can hardly bear to wish her daughters away so soon."
Silence.
"I'm so sorry, but I don't want to be his mother," Shrutakeerti says at last, sounding well and truly apologetic, and this is such a logical conclusion you cannot even argue.
Well then. Your princesses are the noblest princesses in the world, like stars in the darkness of Aryavarta, and they deserve the very best. And if that means you will have to straighten up these good-for-nothing princes, then you will.
The promise of Sunaina's reward is a nice bit of extra motivation.
To start, you categorise them into difficulty levels:
▪︎ Level 1: Rama
Easiest level. Man has his shit together. Has already won the swayamvar and Sita's heart. Has brought you the opportunity of a reward because no way you'd be matchmaking the rest if he was not Sita's fiance. Favourite prince. Best boy. You'd hug him if you could. Raam naam satya hai ✊🏽
▪︎ Level 2: Bharat
Easiest among the unengaged brothers. Medium level difficulty. Already soft-spoken and well-mannered. Does not cause trouble unnecessarily. You're pretty sure he's a romantic at heart. Now, if only you can separate him from his inherited duty of parentified elder sibling for even half a minute and knock into his neither unimaginative nor thick head the idea of courting Mandavi, who is tall and graceful and not at all as much of a gremlin as his little brothers (and no, you're not biased), and win over Mandavi's heart... it will all work out!!
▪︎ Level 3: Lakshmana
This one is... harder. Scratch that, this is THE hard level. He's a fine young man, very handsome, good and honourable, but... the temper. Urmila, of course, is so sweet, and so rarely gets angry (and no, again, you are not partial, you are not blind to the follies of your own, shut up, haters), but putting them within 5 feet of each other might trigger the end of the world, so you are... a little cautious. If only you can get Lakshmana away from the hordes of rude suitors, and from his terror of a twin, maybe he would be calmer. Perhaps a well-timed conversation with Urmila in a sufficiently concealed nook (in public, naturally) with sparse population will be enough to shake his desire for lifelong celibacy. If not, well, maybe you can speak to some convenient people until word reaches Rama's ears, and certainly, a man as responsible as him would not deprive his younger brother of the joys of marital life for the sake of his service. It's going to be FINE!
▪︎ Level 4: Shatrughan
Okay, this should be called the nightmare level. That boy needed to man up! Fortunately, you are extremely resourceful. What better way to man up a boy than put him to work? You would thus charge him with coordinating with Mithila for the wedding preparations! Some responsibility will do him good, his brother Rama agrees, so you set forth. And persevere. And persevere. And persevere. Even when he wants to get the very dark and very expensive purple cloth for the pavillions. A spoiled prince such as him probably never had to count money. You persevere even when he insists on filling half the menu with desserts; of course a child such as him has a sweet tooth. You persevere, even when he tries to cancel the orange marigold arrangements for yellow ones; his brother likes yellow and consideration of other people's likes and dislikes is an entirely desirable quality in a man. But then he throws a tantrum about the timing of the rituals and tries to have it shifted so his brother wouldn't have to wake up at dawn and you people of Mithila are honest, god-honouring, ritual-keeping people and if an upstart prince from Kosala thinks that he can—
Suitor dead, system restart needed to continue.
Anyway, threats!!!
⊙ Level 1: King Janaka
Hates the meddling, thinks his daughters should think and decide for themselves.
Does not desire external influence.
Has legitimate concerns about the sanity of the combined party of Kosala-Mithila bride/groomzillas.
Has not recovered from the heart attack Parashuram's arrival gave him.
Will probably cry if he has to send off his other daughters.
Unfortunately, the only person who can sniff out your involvement and order you to stop.
⊙ Level 2: Queen Kaikeyi
Has somehow already sniffed out your involvement.
Is already pissed about not being able to see Rama's marriage, will blow her top if she loses the chance to see others' too.
Will probably also blow her top if four separate celebrations somehow get combined into one. You grudgingly agree with the sentiment.
Has the express power to put a stop to at least one marriage (her son's), quite possibly more.
Happens to be the only person apart from Dasaratha and Kousalya that Rama will obey without question. If you cost Mithila Sita's marriage with Rama, it will probably be jailtime instead of rewards.
⊙ Level 3: That one nosy king from Pragjyotisha
He is looking at princess Mandavi?????
Princess Mandavi is looking at him?????
"He's better-looking than in his portrait," Princess Mandavi says.
"He's not a bad conversationalist," Princess Mandavi says.
"Hmm, maybe an alliance with Pragjyotisha won't be so bad," King Khushadhwaja says.
Bharat does not even notice.
⊙ Level 4: The prince of Vanga
He is serenading Princess Shrutakeerti???
He is SERENADING Princess Shrutakeerti!!!!!
He is READING HER POEMS!!!!!!!
She is SMILING!!!!!!!
Princess Shrutakeerti is SMILING at the FUGLY Prince of Vanga and Prince Shatrughan is INCORRIGIBLE and your reward is walking away WHAT THE FU–
⊙ Level 5: King Dasaratha's minister
Keeps trying to convince him that each prince must bring in a new matrimonial alliance.
Refers to King Dasaratha's blissful marriage with Queen Kaikeyi to insist that love blooms in the unlikeliest of unions.
Thinks one of the princes should ally with a princess of Lanka.
Says Mithila had until recently a slow economy???? YOU HAD DROUGHTS?????
Says second daughters don't bring in much??????
SAYS PRINCESS URMILA IS HARDLY THE CATCH HER SISTER IS! THE JERKFACE, YOU ARE GOING TO–
Character dead, system restart needed to continue.
⊙ Level 6: THAT SHREW OF A WOMAN STROKING PRINCE LAKSHMANA'S ARM AND LAUGHING WITH HIM, THAT @$#%€₩, CELIBATE YOUR FOOT—
(This is Shanta. Her husband and son haven't yet arrived.)
Allies:
Sunaina: Employed you.
Chandrabhaga: Same as above.
Sumitra: Unavailable but there in spirit. Will probably accept a frog for a daughter-in-law as long as that marriage happens.
Vasishtha: Knows the boys since childhood. Same as above.
Rama and Sita: Too busy staring lovingly and longingly at each other across flower gardens but would agree if they could.
Some notes:
You will win even if you don't want to, and so it is fortunate that you want to win.
If you lose somehow, Hanuman will show up at your place to smack you sing you the Ramayana.
You can marry the single extras with the dowry sponsored by Mithila's royal family.
You cannot kill anyone, no not even Ravana, sorry.
Everytime one of the Raghu princes miss, clown music will play.
Everytime one of the princesses miss, clown music will play.
Everytime one of the elders miss, clown music will play.
