However much the vacation day had provided the vanar sena with comfort, seeing one of their main leaders wounded by Ravan's arrow quickly brought their minds back to the war. It was unreal, completely unreal, seeing the demon king who had terrorized their childhood with nightmares and horror stories that wouldn't allow them sleep, the rakshas who had been present in every threat made by their mothers if they forgot to clean their room, that very demon storming the battlefield.

The monkey army realized, all of a sudden, that this was not a battle against Ravan's mercenaries and men, who seemed to be easily defeated. If they continued to wound, dishonor, and kill his courtiers, then Ravan would show up again, with his endless arrows and astras, and he had the power to kill them all. Some shuddered in the Healing Rooms, and others rolled around in their cots, but the main generals did not sleep.

-----O-----

The bluish light of twilight turned into the pitch black skies and absence of light in midnight. And yet still, they did not sleep. Ram folded his legs under his feet as Vibhishan sipped his sixth cup of tea. Nal and Neel lifted alternate weights. Angad, teeth gritting together, swung his mace around his body. Hanuman practiced growing in sizes and uprooted trees, setting them aside for use in the next day's war.

Jambavan did not say a word as he, and some of the more minor healers, rushed back and forth from the forest, collecting the herbs that he had staked out. And Sugriv quietly lit a cigar, taking a long whiff from it before setting it down, letting the smoke cascade into small swirls, blending into the crisp air of the seaside, making the surrounding air feel as if someone had turned on a bonfire.

Lakshman wordlessly rolled up the cloth that Jal had sewn into large rolls, easier for the medics to use. After he had finished with days and days of work in just minutes, he sat down on the ground. But only moments later, feeling quite useless, he was about to reinforce the pillars underneath the tent, before he paused, shaking his head, and walked towards the place where Sugriv sat, giving him a small, respectful nod, and sitting down once more.

And right in the center of this was Ram, Ram who crossed his arms and glanced at Lanka, which seemed quite festive and alight with fire and orange flames even in the nighttime. Finally, he turned towards the direction of Vibhishan, Vibhishan who had set down his tea and set his hands on his knees. "What may we expect next?" he asked, his face grim. "What will Ravan do next, Vibhishan?"

Nal looked up, edging closer as Neel set down his weights, and Angad, not even pretending, ambled his way over and stood next to Lakshman, who had also stood up eagerly. Vibhishan hummed for a second, before standing up and bowing his head. "There are only two things that Ravan can do as of this point. Perhaps three, Prabhu." Then, he glanced up, his soft brown eyes meeting Ram's ice blue. "He can either order one of his sons or nephews to go, Kumbha, Nikumbha, Devantak, perhaps Megha-Indrajit." He exhaled. "He can himself go, however unlikely this is. I doubt he'd want to embarrass himself for the second time in a row. No, either he'll send his sons, or, he can order Kumbhakaran to come out."

Vibhishan shifted in his seat as Sugriv took another long whiff from his cigar, exhaling the smoke into the air, shifting his jaw this way and that. Nal and Neel glanced at each other as Angad stood up, his crown shining more than ever. Finally, dropping his cigar on the ground and crushing it under his feet, Sugriv himself cleared his throat, letting the last of the smoke escape the scene. "Well, then we'll be ready. We'll be ready for whenever this giant attacks. You, Prabhu Shri Ram, have my word."

-----O------

Even if Sugriv actually meant to keep this promise this time around (and not wait for four months) it wouldn't exactly be easy. Kumbhakaran was a giant. As in a real-life giant. He was also Ravan's brother (which said many things about Ravan, but anyways). And currently, this real-life giant was fast asleep on the giant velvet bed which had been built just for him. Usually, Lankesh was glad for it.

Not that he hated his brother or anything, but Kumbhakaran asked a lot, including a giant's worth of food, and clothing so large that not even a productive Jal could have sewn them in a month's worth of time. So, during the six months of the year during which Kumbhakaran had slept (courtesy of a mispronounced boon, and a very sneaky Maa Saraswati, that's not the point, we'll talk about that later), Ravan could breathe a sigh of relief and just live normally.

But Kumbhakaran was a warrior, and a good warrior at that, His dark red flag had the sun and the moon on it. The sun would rise upon Ravan's army, and the night would fall upon the enemy's when Kumbhakaran stormed the fields for his brother. Not only because of his giantness (though that played a part for sure), but because Kumbhakaran truly knew how to fight. He used his magnamious size to his advantage.

So now Ravan wanted to wake Kumbhakaran to fight for him, his pride, and the woman whom he had captured. Now, waking a giant wasn't exactly the easiest thing he had done (no, that was marrying 100,000 wives, 90,000 of those just yesterday, for stress relief, though how 100,000 annoying rakshasis prancing about the palace would be good for stress escapes me). So Ravan employed the help of his courtiers.

------O-------

Ravan's courtiers may not have been the most righteous or good-hearted bunch, but they were sharp, loyal, and they knew how to eventually wake up Kumbhakaran without killing themselves. Or at least, they told Ravan that. "Uh," began one as Ravan left the room, pleased, drawing up the excess cloth that draped off of his angavastram. "So exactly how do we wake Rajkumar Kumbhakaran? Is it, like an art or what? Do you think that there may be someone whom we can consult?"

Another exhaled, making a gurgling noise in the back of his throat sounding like a coarse growl. "No. But we should be glad to be alive once this is over. He is a magnificent fighter, and of magnanimous weight. I believe Maharaja Ravan chose a good next step. Or at least a lethal one." They turned around to stare at the giant, as he heaved large breaths, his sheets falling off and magically drifting back up his stomach as he inhaled, only to fall off again. "Well come on!" The courtier cried, waving his arms. "Let us proceed!"

And they did proceed. One craftily remembered that Kumbhakaran had once told Ravan, as he was getting ready for sleep, that he really loved the smell of honey, and so thousands of honey beeswax candles were brought, and servants were made to light those candles around the room so that the pleasant smell wafted towards Kumbhakaran's immense nostrils, and weren't, perhaps, lost on the way. But Kumbhakaran did not wake up.

Kumbhakaran also loved hats allsorts, hats with feathers, hats without feathers, straw hats with large brims to protect his mocha skin from more sun. And so hats dealers were hired from all over Lanka overnight, and loudly declared the prices for their humongous makeshift hats in front of Kumbhakaran's giant, and smelly feet. But as Ravan's courtiers watched, thousands of candles and hundreds of hat dealers did not work.

"How about food?" one wondered as he sat down for a rest, quickly pulled back up again by an impatient Devantak. "He always loved food, or at least he ate a lot of it-" Then, he paused. "That might have just been because he needed it to keep up his immense size, of course, but you never know!" he trailed off as Devantak glared at him, but nonetheless shook his head exasperatedly, and sighed almost in defeat, gesturing towards one of his slaves, who quickly ran away.

So, thousands and thousands of plates of food, luxurious food, were brought. Gulab Jamuns filled with so much syrup, that perhaps they were more syrup than anything else. Orange jalebis, so sticky and oozing with sugar that they practically stuck to the bowl, and no one could manage to pick them up hungrily without getting their hands frosted with crusty and persistent sugar. But it wasn't just sweets which were bought.

There were also savories. Crispy fried bondas, with plenty of dipping sauce in which they soaked, and the smell drifted around the room so that some men stuck their tongues out, and inflated their nostrils as to just get more of the smell, if they couldn't taste. Thousands and thousands of puris, stuffed with spiced potatoes and dried vegetables, but certainly nothing that wasn't either deep fried or soaked with oil or baked, because all other foods were useless to someone of Kumbhakaran's size.

But still, Kumbhakaran did not wake up.

------O-------

Lakshman looked up, his eyes wide. A weird smell, a familiar one, was drifting to his nose, a smell that escaped the walls of Lanka. "Gulab Jamun?' he wondered softly, and his eyes stung for a moment, before they went back to normal; hard and angry. His mother used to make sweets for him, and though Urmila refused to, she would just shake her head and continue frying the fritters in the sparking oil, waving away the cook breezily.

He turned around, and out of the corner of his eye spotted Angad, glancing in someone's direction shiftily, almost agitatedly before quickly turning back to his work, but his movements were stiff, angered. Lakshman followed his gaze towards Jal and Neel, who finally managed to be pleasant acquaintances, and were now busy grinding herbs into juices easy to swallow and apply to patients.

Amusedly, he turned back towards Angad discreetly, and spotted him glancing at the couple, brows furrowed, once more, pausing his work, before quickly turning back to it as to stop himself from being caught. Something in his demeanour made Lakshman wonder what was wrong with the crown prince, and then he came to a conclusion. Of course! It must have been hard, having to be a third wheel to your best friend and your other best friend's sister.

-----O-----

Devantak went to where his mother, Dhanyamalini, the sister of Mandodari and Ravan's second wife, legendary for her soft voice and kind-towards-demons demeanour, stood, her smile warm as she distributed sweets amongst the workers to eat, and not to serve. "Maa," Devantak groaned. "They're servants, they're supposed to be working!" Her smile dimming, she set down the tray and stared at Devantak. "Maa, how do we do this?" he asked, walking closer. "He won't wake up, not even when we sing praises of him and his family!"

Dhanyamalini stared for a moment more, before her melodious and light voice escaped her lips. "It is never pleasing for a person to wake up. Usually, when others wake you up, it is not with praises sung or promises of food. It's with the shrill crow of the rooster, or the repetitive kitchen bells. Why do you think he'll open his eyes when he's enjoying his sleep? You have to make it unbearable, Devantak!"

Devantak finally grinned, after so many hours, his teeth a dark green, and he walked away, thanking Dhanyamalini for a moment. Now, elephants were dropped on Kumbhakaran's face, where they stomped about, alarmed. Bharatnatym dancers danced Kathak amateurly on his stomach. Rotten food was placed in front of Kumbhakaran instead of the sweets, which Dhanyamalini, instead, fed to the tired soldiers of the war from the day before.

They even employed some singers. "Pritam aan milo!" One sung classically, one hand on ear, the other in the ear. "Pritam aan milo! Aaa milo! Aaa milo!" Devantak plugged his ears quickly, wincing deeply, and shaking his head. Gallons and gallons of water, drawn form the Indian Ocean, were unloaded on his head, drenching his eyes and hair, filling his nose and ears uncomfortably.

Kumbhakaran reached up to his ear, making thousands of Bharatnatym dancers fall off of his stomach and crushed on the floor, he rolled over, breaking the elephant's bones, and waved his arm around so that only a few could escape. But after hours and hours of trying, the eye of Kumbhakaran flicked open. The sleeping giant had awoken.

A/N-So, I plan to do this Kumbhakaran thing over 2 chapters. Just two, unlike someone I know (cough cough cough-Ramayana_lover-hack hack hack) I'm not sure, as I haven't written the chapter yet, but you know, 2 sounds reasonable, right? Yeah, 2.

You might be wondering-why is this authoress giving small bits about Lakshman? There's a reason, trust me, there's a reason. We'll find out soon enough. It's okay, it's okay!

By the way, did anyone find the 'Kal Ho Naa Ho' reference? Pritam aan Milo! Sorry. I've watched that movie too many times now. 

Okay, anyways, the roleplay thing was a success? Someone choose my name for me!

Hansanandini

Girimallika

Swarnaprabha

Hemamalini

Mrinalini

Suvarnarekha

I like long names, oki?