#panchakanya meme

[vaijayantheee]

Rambha for the Panchakanya meme!

Wow, what an amazing ask! I just can’t think of one for the last two, so sorry but its just ‘Trikanya’ meme for Rambha! I literally know so little about her!!!

Ahalya

an important first for them || deception || disguise || something they waited for || kill two birds with one stone

Being a stone was not fun, but Rambha knew that she had brought this upon herself, as she longingly, but patiently waited for the event, or the person, that would come relieve her from Vishwamitra’s curse, just as Ram had saved Ahalya in a previous time. 

Draupadi

one grudge they held || favorite hairstyle || baptism of fire || five finger discount || one big change that they wrought

Nalkuber’s loving hugs pacified her, as she sensed his simultaneous anger and helplessness in his trembling arms. The Demon-Lord was cruel, powerful and full of lust, a combination not safe for any person in the universes. Rambha herself had heard much about the way her husband’s notorious step-uncle had kept many beautiful girls as captives in his beautiful garden, which was only lacking in the natural beauty due to the countless distress it held within. She watched then, as Nalkuber wiped away his own tears and stood up, frowning with determination, and set off, weapon-less, to the court of Lankeshwar. 

Sita

friends are the family we choose for ourselves || green thumb || captive audience || no good deed goes unpunished || true blue

The forest was blooming with activity that day, and Rambha sighed with a form of relief. Indra had entrusted her to carry out this mission, but he had also aptly given Manmadha the task of setting the environment in the place where Vishwamitra’s penance was to be broken. This was a job she often did, gaining success too many times, having an amazing skill over music and dance, two arts that always ensure distraction! But something in her mind warned her about this sage, who was known for his enmity with Vasishtha that drove his motivation and his sudden eruptions of anger, but Rambha shook it off. What was the worst that could happen from a sage whose name literally meant “friend of the universe”? 

[herawell]

Shurtakirti for the panchakanya meme?

Ahalya

an important first for them || deception || disguise || something they waited for || kill two birds with one stone

“The monsoons are almost over,” Mother explains again, “and the season for mangoes has passed. You will have to wait until next year’s harvest, or until the goods come in from our trading partners.”

Shrutakirti refuses to listen. She has been craving the sweet-savory golden fruits all week, and in the face of her desire, the slow march of the seasons has little weight. 

“Then send for some! How much longer must I wait?”

“Really, Kirti!” Mandavi finally snaps, less patient than their mother. “Do you know how expensive it is to have fruits shipped all the way from the south? You’re almost twelve and still so ignorant of the world.”

Shrutakirti bristles at being scolded like a child. She is only one year younger than Mandavi and Urmila, and two years younger than Sita Didi, and yet they treat her as though a decade separated them in age. She wants to protest, but one look from Mother silences her.

Draupadi

one grudge they held || favorite hairstyle || baptism of fire || five finger discount || one big change that they wrought

Shrutakirti has always known in a vague way that as the baby of the family, she’s been cosseted and indulged, well past girlhood, but never has she been so sharply aware of how low she falls in contrast to her sisters until they leave for marriage. Away from the safety of home in Mithila and expected to conduct herself as a wedded woman in Ayodhya, she flounders like a fish dumped on shore. Shatrughna is too polite to say anything publicly, but his distaste at being saddled with so inept a wife is plain in his eyes every time she blunders. 

Her husband is not cruel, but Kirti sees how Rama and Sita are each other’s halves how Lakshmana and Urmila can match each other in temper but also in devotion, how Mandavi and Bharata have built a quiet companionship, and she resents Shatrughna his silent disdain, however much she might deserve it.

At least they are the youngest of both their families, and will never be called upon to fulfill any greater destinies.

Sita

friends are the family we choose for ourselves || green thumb || captive audience || no good deed goes unpunished || true blue

Except -- they return from Kekaya to discover that their world has burned to ash, when before they left all was well. Death and exile and sleep and Nandigram have claimed all their family, and only Shrutakirti and Shatrughna are left behind in the palace of Ayodhya to support three grieving mothers.

Gods above, all Shrutakirti wants to do is weep sometimes. She never expected to have so much thrust upon her shoulders while losing the support of everyone whom she loved, and she is so tired.

But she sees the lines of weariness creasing her husband’s forehead, and crow-lines of guilt tugging at Kaikeyi Ma’s lips, and lassitude clouding Sumitra Ma’s and Kaushalya Ma’s eyes, and her fatigue ebbs away. 

Tara

one prediction they made || communal cup || one injury/wound/illness they healed or cured || on the tail end || keen acumen

If there is a bright spot in all this unhappiness, it is Shatrughna’s arms around her and his lips on her forehead, his whispered apologies that he misjudged her and his heartfelt gratitude to have her by his side, and the bed that they now share.

Mandodari

frog in boiling water || mother lode || hospitality in a time of war || one time they intervened || labor of love

Fourteen years of exile have carved away Shrutakirti’s petulance and her prickliness, but not her pride, and although she is not vain, she is proud of what she has accomplished, and what she managed to build out of tragedy. When Sita is banished for no fault of her own, of course Shrutakirti is devastated on her eldest sister’s behalf, but a part of her is also outraged on her own behalf, that she should give so much of herself to lift the family’s flagging spirits, only to have all her hard work blighted.

[herawell]

Thomas Cromwell (OT3 verse)?

Ahalya

an important first for them || deception || disguise || something they waited for || kill two birds with one stone

Princess Mary’s silent disapproval should not cut Thomas so deeply. He knows that she will not reveal their secret to the world; her tongue is too bridled by self-preservation and love. He knows she will never treat George as lesser than Bessie or Tommy; her heart is too kind for her to resent a child, however she views his legitimacy. He knows that it is natural for her not to understand; her soul has been forged in the flames of papal and paternal rejection.

If he is coldly honest, he does not need the princess’s approval or liking. Of course, he would never wish any ill on his consorts’ eldest daughter, but Mary is not dear to him the way she is to Henry and Anne, and so long as she does not create trouble, her personal feelings do not matter to him.

And yet, her voice is coolly composed whenever they meet in public, and her eyes never quite meet his, and he feels himself a bruised boy on the streets of Putney. 

Draupadi

one grudge they held || favorite hairstyle || baptism of fire || five finger discount || one big change that they wrought

Theft is a sin. But he’s barely sixteen and has just fled across an ocean to escape Norwich. He is well rid of being the man’s gutter rat, but he is also rid of the man’s considerable wealth that had fed and clothed him. Until Thomas can find himself a steady source of income, he’ll have to resort to secreting away crusts of bread and sticks of meat from inattentive vendors.

If this were some biblical parable, the food would curdle Thomas’s stomach, to teach listeners that even penury is no excuse for thievery, but it is the most delicious fare he has ever had.

Sita

friends are the family we choose for ourselves || green thumb || captive audience || no good deed goes unpunished || true blue

Liz Cromwell, formerly Liz Wykes, is an extraordinarily fastidious woman, meaning that it is a rare sight for her to still have dirt embedded under her fingernails by nightfall. She must have been in good cheer after spending the afternoon gardening. Thomas makes no mention of it, merely kissing her on the forehead and burying his nose in her hair. She must have washed it in rosewater, and the flower scent emanates from her in waves. Thomas closes his eyes and thinks of all that he never thought to have.

Tara

one prediction they made || communal cup || one injury/wound/illness they healed or cured || on the tail end || keen acumen

The uprising was in the end made up of no more than a few dozen peasants and easily quelled, but Henry still took a nasty wound to his side. Thomas begs leave to tend to the King’s injury alone. “He is my most trusted advisor, and a veteran of wars beside; he can treat me as well as any physician,” Henry says imperiously, composed for the court’s benefit, but once everyone else is dismissed, his Tudor temper rears itself.

“The nerve of those miscreants,” he hisses through clenched teeth, as Thomas wipes away blood with a clean cloth. “You’ve worked so hard to strike a balance between Rome and reform, and yet they would undo all your labors and disrupt the peace?”

“Be still, Your Majesty. I think some of your ribs are bruised, in attention to your gash.”

Henry subsides, but his eyes remain fiery. “They don’t deserve you as their Prime Minister. They don’t deserve you, my raven.”

“Lift up your back, Henry, I need to wrap this bandage around you.” 

Thomas continues his work, methodical as ever, but there is a faint color to his cheeks and a dip in his chin.

Mandodari

frog in boiling water || mother lode || hospitality in a time of war || one time they intervened || labor of love

Frances St. Leger praises Thomas on the wisdom of his measures he proposed to Parliament, wonders aloud at the degree of trust the King places in him, and tells him that his doublet brings out the color of his eyes, and still Thomas thinks her nothing more than a young woman being polite.

(Behind doors, Henry and Anne bury their foreheads in their hands.)