"It has come of a good time, I think Raj Guru," Dasharath began without hesitation,and Vashishta looked up. "That I should coronate my Ram! He is of age, he is responsible, he is respectful, and he has a lovely wife who would make a Maharani amazing enough to rival even Kaushalya, Kaikeyi, and Sumitra! Do you think it would be good to, please sir? Please say yes, I beg of you!" Vashishta smiled at him, but something was gnawing at him from the inside.

Bharat and Shatrughan were not here. They would most certainly love to receive the good news immediately. They would also want to view the coronation itself. He knew, from the letters they sent, that they loved the visit to Kekeya, but they would, more so perhaps, love to see their brother's coronation, the brother whom they had all loved and looked up to since practically birth.

"I would like to say yes, I most definitely would but," Dasharath looked up, eyebrows furrowing together worriedly, body tensing, and mouth slightly agape. Was it not auspicious now anymore, perhaps? "His two brothers are not here. You know how close the four are, Dasharath, and Bharat and Shatrughan would love to see the coronation and crowning ceremony more than anything else. Please sire, I suggest moving your ideas a bit later than sooner." Dasharath sat back.

"But the auspicious period is ending soon, and it will maybe only start the next year or perhaps even the year after! You must understand, Raj Guru, that I am anxious and very ready to crown my Ram. I want to do it now! I might pass soon, it's no use diluting it Guru, I will die soon, I can feel it a little in my bones and blood, and I would like him to have the throne before then. I would like him to ascend to power not under the pressure to do it because I am not there, nor under the sadness. I would like to be there to guide him. My eyes are yearning to see him upon the throne!" he exclaimed.

"Don't say such things!" cried Vashishta, standing up. "You must not! You will live a long, long life with your son. Alright, if you wish to crown him now, Dasharath, I give my full blessings. It is a most auspicious moment indeed, call in the rest of the courtiers, and inform the queens privately." As he sat down, however, Vashishta felt something beating in his heart, which was large and made of gold. Who was he to deny a dying king his wish? But something told him that this was something that the Raja and the Maharanis would regret for the rest of their lives, long or short, it did not matter.

"Hello my friends!" cried Dasharath happily to all the assembled courtiers, who stood there, eager to serve their king. "I have decided that I am growing old and very weary, and that I should crown my eldest son, Yuvraj Ram, as the next king of Kosala!" Dasharath beamed, looking in between his courtiers, all of whom were staring, agape, at the Raja. Dasharath frowned. Were they not happy?

All his fears were quickly dispelled, to say the least. "You are crowning Yuvraj Ram?" asked one disbelievingly. When Dasharath nodded in confusion, a large smile spread across the man's face. "REJOICE, my friends! We have a new king, Yuvraj Ram is to be our Raja! Rejoice, rejoice!" A loud cheer rose up from his most trusted subjects and courtiers, and Dasharath grinned. It was then that Arya Sumant walked forward, swallowing.

"Oh king," he began, and Dasharath turned towards him, raising an eyebrow. "May I have the honor of informing the queens, please? It would be a highlight in my career of serving you, I implore you, may I please?" Dasharath nodded, waving him off, giving him full permission, and Sumant practically danced, before running away, happy tears falling from his eyes at the good news that his king had imparted.

He first reached Kaushalya's chambers, as good courtesy, chief Maharani as she was. The doors were decorated with simple gold and silvers, and a velvet, deep maroon paint. "Maharani, maharani, come out at once please! You must come out of your chambers at once, Raja Dasharath has asked me to tell you something very important and urgent! Please, Maharani, come out at once!" He could hear commotion inside the rooms, but knew that the queen was coming, not questioning his motives.

The queen, as regally as she had done everything in her lifetime, looked Sumant in his eyes, worry filling her own. Before she could ask him why he was even there, Sumant, bubbling up with excitement, almost jumping up and down. "Raja Dasharath has decided that your son, Yuvraj Ram, Maharani Kaushalya, should be coronated as king as soon as possible! He thinks that Ram is good and ready to ascend to the throne!"

Kaushalya dropped the praying plate she was holding, and her face, which was marred by nary a wrinkle, broke into a large smile. Her cheeks suddenly plumped, and her golden skin seemed to radiate excitement. Her grey hairs suddenly disappeared, all turning black. Kaushalya looked young again, and her soft eyes looked at Sumant in amazement and disbelief. Inside, her heart was racing. Surely, the man with a good enough humor was joking. But the pure emotion with which he conveyed his words, practically dripping with regard and anticipation in the best form, those emotions convinced her otherwise.

"It has been ages, indeed, since I have received such good news, Sumant! I come out here with the thought that maybe someone else has waged a war upon us, or perhaps an alliance is broken, or demon enemies are threatening our borders, but you tell me something so marvelous, you make my heart race excitedly as if I were a young woman again. Oh-" Kaushalya wiped a single, silvery tear away from her eyes excitedly, and clasped her hands together, beaming. "-Oh, I am so excited. Please, tell the treasurer that grains should be distributed along the kingdom, all from my money. Oh," she drummed her feet on the ground, creating the pleasant sound of jingling bells. "What are you waiting for? Sumant, go and tell my sisters, for they will be equally as excited as I! Go, go! Kaikeyi has been missing Bharat, I know, she will be ecstatic! Go! Go!"

Sumant, unable to disobey the orders of his queen, raced down the corridors towards Kaikeyi's chambers. Hers were decorated intricately with precious jewels and golds and silvers, all real, and each could probably feed a farmer and his eight children family for a year. It was clear that this was the favorite queen of the Maharaja. Sumant knocked on the door, and Kaikeyi quickly bustled out, wiping a tear away, and smiling kindly at the familiar messenger.

Without further adieu, Sumant conveyed the good news. All of Kaikeyi's tears disappeared in an instant. An uncontrollable smile spread across her face. Her heart still beat steadily, but her hands trembled. No tears dripped down her cheeks as they did for Kaushalya's, for Kaikeyi steadily believed that tears were meant for sad occasions, and this certainly was not one! "You bring me such good news, expecting nothing in return. Here, take a jewel for your troubles, Sumant, and keep it."

Not even waiting for a second, Kaikeyi began to dance excitedly through the halls, acting like a young lady rather than the regal mother and queen she was. The anklets on her feet jingled like bells. Dasis turned around to stare at the dancing queen, who swung around corners, shining black hair like diamonds had been rubbed into them. "Ram is going to be kiiiiing!" she sang loudly into the corridors. Her smile blinded many a person, pearly white teeth reflecting in the mirrors embedded in the halls. She grabbed a mango here from a plate, and ate it while she danced through the halls. Dasharath could hear her approaching from five minutes away, and chuckled. Kaikeyi had obviously figured it out.

Sumant merely stared, jaws agape, at the jewel. Now what was he supposed to do with this? Shaking his head, Sumant tucked the jewel into one of his many pockets. Sumant had many pockets, all to hold scrolls and messages, messenger as he was. This was a valuable item, perhaps he could make a necklace out of it for his little Trivati. He beamed, and headed towards Sumitra's rooms.

He stopped for a second in front of the rooms. The door leading to Sumitra's room was carved with wood, and detailed with gold. It was an attestment, an attestment to how her life revolved around her two sons, who, no doubt, had done the work on the door. Dasharath often forgot about her, the third queen, but always came to her when in trouble. She was wise, beyond her years, understanding, so much that Sumant wondered about her pain bearing capacity, and a good confidant, so much so that even he had once confided in her about his daughter.

Sumitra walked out curiously, folding her hands together, and looking up at him, short as she was. Sumant quickly told her everything, marvelling at how her smile grew every second. Sumitra's heart swelled as his every word reached her ears. Oh, how Dasharath must have spent his time thinking so deeply about everything, worrying and hoping. But he had finally come to a decision. The good decision.

Her Ram would make the best king. He would be good and kind, and understanding. And Sita? She would make a kinder queen than Kaushalya, and a lovelier one than Kaikeyi. Sumitra felt like bursting into tears, collapsing on the ground, and putting her head into her hands. Her ears had never heard such lovely words, words she ached to listen to, they had finally arrived. The day had arrived. Her Ram, and her Sita, they were going to rule. It was most definitely a most beautiful day!

"Raja Dasharath has made a great decision. A great decision indeed! Please send him my best regards! Oh-" she sniffled, wiping away a tear, and hugging a passing by maid, who smiled. "Has Ram been told yet? He'll be so surprised! He's so modest, he would be shocked, as if he was not expecting it! Go, go, please go! Sumant, go!" She waved to his retreating back, before walking back into her room, shaking her head.

-----O-----

Ram and Lakshman sat in their room, poring over the birthday book that he had gotten from Bharat. "I feel like some of these stories from the book that Bharat, are composed from our childhood. They are so beautiful, however, do not you think, Laksh?" asked Ram, as he flipped a page eagerly, ready to read the next chapter. Lakshman nodded, not realizing what his brother was saying. He usually did not pay much attention to books.

Suddenly, someone barged into the room. "Yuvraj-huff-Ram-huff-you are being-huff-coronated-huff-in a few-huff-days." wheezed Sumant, before he raced off quickly. The two brothers took a second to understand the wheezing old man, before Ram paled. He dropped his book, and it landed on the floor. Swallowing hard, Ram turned towards Lakshman, who was beaming in joy, who had set the book away, who had opened the curtain wide, who basked in the sunshine, who picked him up, and placed him on the bed. Who now stared worriedly at him, his deep eyes staring into his soul.

Lakshman, he could not be happier. All his eyes had yearned to see since they had first opened was his eldest brother ascending the throne. All he wished to know, in his life, was that his Ram was prospering, and prospering he would be, on his throne. All he knew was that Ram was Maryada Purshottam, the perfect man, and with that, he would be the perfect king. The perfect king. But his Ram bhaiyya suddenly looked sickly, pale, like he was about to collapse. He looked dead, from the inside, not the out. He looked like he wished to leave this world, if only because of this news and no other.

"I-I can't believe it." Ram whispered, eyes fluttering closed as he took a deep breath in, cold air filling his lungs like freezing ice cubes. His stomach flipped over, and over, and over, and over again, just like those fritters the chef made. His eyes followed the movement of the birds outside, as they flew rapidly everywhere. Wouldn't those birds just stop moving? He felt like throwing up. He felt like screaming into his pillow, pounding his chest. He felt like running into the empty night, diving into a freezing pool, falling through the air, crushing into the ground. Anything, anything he could do to escape this world.

"Think, Ram bhaiyya, of the things you could do," whispered Lakshman, hugging him from the side. "You could make people's lives better, you could make the unhappy smile again. You could make the poor rich. You could feed the hungry. You could cure the diseased." For Lakshman knew, he knew, that Ram wanted to be king. Ram just didn't want the pressure, the pressure that crushed a man like boulders rolling down a mountain.

"I-I could help people. I could help my kingdom. I could give my soldiers a raise. I could give the homeless shelters. I could feed the hungry." Ram took a breath in, and another breath out, before he stood up, Lakshman with him. "I could do whatever I wanted, because I would be king." His strong voice became stronger, his resolve angrier, and his happiness blossoming into a lily flower, vibrant and large.

With a large smile, he turned around and crushed Lakshman in a hug. Without a single second passing, Lakshman's hands drifted to his back as well. Ram swallowed hard, swallowing the lump in his throat that threatened to summon tears from his unwilling eyes. He swallowed away the apprehension, replacing it with excitement. He swallowed away the fears, replacing them with hopes. He swallowed away the nagging voice that told him that Bharat and Shatrughan were not there. He didn't replace that with anything, for there was nothing to replace it with. Happiness swelled in his entire body.

The warm feeling flooded in Lakshman's spine. His Ram bhaiyya and Sita bhabhi would be the new king and queen of Kosala. The confidence he had in them was stronger, even, that the one he had in himself. He knew, he knew so strongly, that they would prove themselves to be the best of the best. His heart hammered so loudly that he thought that anyone would be able to hear it. Unfamiliar smiles, that made his cheekbones hurt, they returned over and over again. Was it possible that anyone could be so happy as he? No, no there wasn't.

A/N-I actually did not like this chapter. I liked writing it, but apparently my emotion-conveying skills are not good at all, and I realized that once I reread it, I was practically cringing at my writing skills. I sound like a kindergartener. It was supposed to be ecstatic, and happy, and all you got was some non descriptive words and weird sentences. That is definitely my bad, and I am really, really sorry. I know what I am posting tomorrow, or at least the main plot, so you might like tomorrow's better than this one actually. Hopefully you do.

It was so unreal to write this one, honestly, because as most of you realize, this chapter is very significant. That is why I am very disappointed that it turned out like this piece of trash. That's alright though. I will regain my snazziness soon enough. As most of you have probably realized ahead of time, I am very bad at writing emotions. It's literally in my bio.