5 AU Headcanons: The Twins Are Born During the Vanvaas
1.A forest, Rama points out, is no place to raise children. There are cities nearby, or perhaps even Mithila, where they could grow among comfort and companionship—
A forest, Sita retorts, is where her sons will be born and where they will spend their next oh—ten years of life, so they might as well grow accustomed to it. The trees and plants provide quite enough in the way of comfort, and the birds and animals companionship, and really, she can’t see what else they might need.
Lakshmana, by now, is too wise to interfere in such debate; and so it is the cooing of the twin infants in their cribs that settles the matter.
2. And it’s just as well they stay, because in later years, the twins are quite adamant that there’s no place else they’d rather have spent their childhood.
—Well, Kush must add, except for the fact that it always gave Father an excuse to set them a thousand chores, all of which had some deeper lesson hidden in them. And of course, Uncle Lakshmana was always keeping an eye out for them, because how else did their parents know of all their petty misdeeds?
Which is silly, Luv thinks. Everyone knew it was the birds that spoke to Mother of all the boys’ sins, faithless friends that they were.
3. When they are nine, Mother tells them to go and hide in the caves beside their cottage. Luv doesn’t want to go—the darkness frightens him, grown boy though he is—and Kush protests on his behalf, but Mother’s voice is uncharacteristically sharp, and they obey.
They wait in the caves for what seems an eternity, and when at last Kush cannot bear Luv’s muffled sobs any longer, he says cautiously: “Mother only said go to the caves, which we did. She didn’t say anything about staying there.”
“Yes,” says Luv, with growing hope. “That’s right, she did.”
The sounds of battle draw them closer, curious boys that they are; and what they find is a terrible sight: a defense against the demons, the parents and uncle they so love altered by anger.
The twins retreat to the caves unasked, and when Mother comes to fetch them, they are relieved
They never speak of it. They never forget.
4. When the golden deer races past the cottage, Kush and Luv offer to bring it back.
Mother bites her lip uncertainly, but Father only laughs. He and Uncle Lakshmana would have done such things as boys, the twins know, and allowing Luv and Kush to do so is the least Father can do.
It leads them on a merry chase, but at last Luv loses his patience and shoots an arrow at it. It’s not a mortal wound—Mother has taught him that much—but it’s enough to make the deer’s form shimmer and twist, much to their surprise, and a silver-haired man rise slowly to his feet, staring at them.
“This,” he pronounces, “was not meant to happen.”
5. On their way back, they meet a sage. That’s nothing out of the ordinary; they’ve met more than their share, young as they are. What is strange is the way the sage’s face sags with disappointment when they speak of their mother.
“A mother?” he says. “To two sons?” He shakes his head and begins mumbling to himself. “She never mentioned that—fool that she is. And what sort of beauty has two children already?”
They can’t fathom what he means, which is perhaps fortunate; because they might take as much offense to the idea that their mother is no longer the most beautiful and accomplished woman in the world as to that he intends to steal her away by subterfuge.
But ignorance, one might find, often makes for happy endings, and this is one among them.
