Genre: Melancholic Angst

"You promise, right bhaiyya?  I want your promise."

"Yes, Laksh, I promise. The next time."

Now he's all alone. Ram doesn't have his brothers with him in the throne room. Bharat and Shatru are away once more, and he's all alone again, confined to the thorny walls of the palace. Lakshman isn't behind him this time. He had finally decided to leave and join the outside world.

Ram is all alone in the silent empty court. His head is in his hands, and slowly, shakily, he exhales. Being the eldest was always more than not being able to play with the same freedom, having to confine his mischief. Now, sitting on his cold throne, Ram realizes that being the eldest meant having to shoulder the world on his back.

It meant being expected to lead at every junction, crack a smile at every sorrow, reach a hand forward when the direction was unclear, even to him. It meant fulfilling obligation upon obligation, until the things he loved were just faded shadows in front of the glaring sun.

 It meant making decisions. Decisions he would hate.

Ram isn't a man to shy away from his faults, to deny his responsibilities. The man who should have been there to watch the emptiness next to him is gone. It is his doing.

Now he has to live the rest of his life with the guilt that the last words he spoke to the person he loved the most on this Earth, the person that loved him the most on this Earth, were not words as a brother, but orders as a king.

A tear trails down his cheek. He quickly brushes it away. No more follow the first.

The only thing that can console Ram these days, when he has abandoned all else, is that at least no one else has to face his misery. 

Bharat's art will only ever be art, not a forced charity for the amusement of the unsatiable hordes. Shatrughan's humor will never be chided, his pranks will never come to another abrupt halt. Lakshman doesn't have to live with having done the things that Ram has. 

His years as Ram on this beautiful planet are done. He has done what he could to bid evil away, extinquish whatever adharm he finds, lead his kingdom into more prosperity than it has ever felt, even if it has eaten away at him. 

He has never denied anyone, never unleashed his wrath on an innocent, never forgotten his duty as king, even as his flaws as a mortal try to force his hand.

He has done his best. And while the forces of evil will inevitably come rushing back when there's not a strong will to push them away, they are the worries of someone else. Ram has done his God's bidding. Ram is done now. 

As he closes his eyes for the last time and sinks into the Sarayu, Ram can only think this with a small smile: He is used to being the eldest now. At least no one else will have to live with it. If the Gods wish, he's ready for all this pain again if it means none of his loved ones have to feel it. Smilingly, he goes.

Belatedly, Vishnu greets his dearest Lakshmi again, hugging her against his broad chest with an excited laugh, whispering words of apology in her ear. Lakshmi does what he knew she'd do: shakes her head, hugs him back even harder, says she missed him. He missed her. There's nothing else to it.

From behind them, there's a shy clearing of the throat. Vishnu looks up and positively beams, stepping back from his wife. The deity of Seshnaag stares back at him, gaze steady.

"Next time, I'll be the eldest." Adisesha declares. Vishnu's smile falters.

A/N: This was gnawing at me for days, I just had to do it. Well by days, I mean one day. Maybe twelve hours. But still. Hehe. Did you like it?