Us Weirdos have to stick Together ♡♫

“Father!”

His hand, still holding the leather strap of his hunting pack, immediately lets go. The pack lands on the floor with a heavy thud, forgotten before it even touches the ground.

Kwei looks down. His little daughter is wrapped around his leg, her tiny arms barely meeting around it, her eyes shining as though she had not seen him in months instead of two days.

“There you are,” he says quietly, she tips her head back until she can look at him.

“You came back.”

“I did.”

“Like you promised.”

“I keep my promises.”

Satisfied, she nods once, then she lifts both arms as high as they go.

“Up.”

There is no hesitation.

Kwei bends immediately, slipping one large hand under her before lifting her against his chest. She settles there as if she has always belonged in that exact spot. Because, in many ways, she has.

From the doorway, you watch the entire exchange with a smile tugging at your lips.

“You didn’t even take your armour off.”

Kwei glances at you.

“It can wait, she is more important.”

His daughter has already tucked her face under his mandible, one tiny hand absentmindedly playing with one of his dreadlocks. She sighs happily.

“You smell like outside.”

“I do.”

“And snow.”

“There is snow.”

“And trees.”

“There are trees.”

She thinks very hard before adding, “…and Father.”

A chuckle rumbles deep in Kwei’s chest.

“Yes.”

You shake your head, unable to hide your amusement.

“I carried her for months.”

He looks at you with complete seriousness.

“You did.”

“I gave birth to her.”

“You did.”

“I feed her every day.”

“You do.”

You fold your arms.

“And yet she hears the door open and suddenly I no longer exist.”

Kwei looks down at the little girl clinging happily to him.

“I fail to see the problem.”

“Oh, of course.”

Your eldest is outside training with Dek, your youngest has fallen asleep after wearing himself out chasing insects around the garden, and your daughter has decided that her father is not allowed to move more than a few steps away from her.

Kwei sits outside the house repairing the shaft of one of his spears, a task that usually demands complete concentration.

Today, he has considerably less. Tiny footsteps approach again.

He does not need to look up. He already knows who it is. 

She stops beside him, carrying a small wooden cup in both hands, her tongue poking out slightly with the effort of keeping it level.

She holds it up proudly.

“For Father.”

Kwei sets the spear aside immediately.

“What is this?”

“Tea.”

You glance through the open doorway just in time to see him accept the cup with all the solemnity of receiving a ceremonial offering.

Inside is little more than cold water with a handful of leaves floating lazily on the surface.

Your daughter watches him happily. Kwei lifts the cup and takes a long drink, then lowers it again. He nods once, approving.

“Excellent.”

Her entire face lights up.

“I made it!”

“I can tell.”

“You like it?”

“I do.”

She smiled so brightly that you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, when she runs off again to gather more “ingredients,” you step outside.

“So?”

Kwei hands you the cup. You look inside.

“…Kwei.”

“Hm?”

“That’s a leaf.”

“I noticed.”

“And…” You poke gently at something floating near the bottom. “…I think that’s moss.”

“It is.”

“You drank it.”

He looks genuinely confused.

“She made it.”

“As pretend tea.”

“I know.”

“…You weren’t actually supposed to drink it.”

“She seemed pleased.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You are impossible.”

“No.” He watches your daughter proudly collecting more weeds from the edge of the garden. “I am her customer.”

A few days later, Dek came over for a visit.

He found Kwei sitting on the floor of the house instead of sharpening weapons or preparing for a hunt.

This alone surprises him.

What surprises him more is what Kwei is doing.

Or rather… what he is allowing.

Your daughter sits behind him with the fiercest expression imaginable, surrounded by colourful beads, bits of leather cord and tiny flowers she insisted on picking that morning.

“Stay still,” she says very seriously.

“I am.”

“No moving.”

“I have not moved.”

Dek blinks, Kwei, one of the most feared hunters in the clan, sits perfectly upright while a toddler struggles to braid one of his dreadlocks.

It is… Not going well.

The braid is uneven. The beads are completely mismatched.

One flower somehow ends up tied near the end of another dreadlock for no apparent reason.

Still…

Kwei does not move.

Nearly an hour passes before she finally climbs around to look at her work.

She places both tiny hands on her hips. Satisfied.

“There.”

Kwei reaches up carefully, feeling the collection of flowers and beads now decorating his hair.

“You have finished?”

She nods enthusiastically.

“You handsome.”

He inclines his head.

“Thank you.”

Dek cannot hold it in any longer.

He laughs. Loud enough that both of you look over.

“Kwei.”

“Hm?”

“You once told me taking a mate would make you soft.”

“I did.”

“You claimed children would distract you.”

“I did.”

Dek gestures toward him.

“You have flowers in your hair.”

Kwei reaches up again, gently touching one of the tiny flowers your daughter had carefully tied into place.

He smiles, just enough for the people who know him best to notice.

“Yes.”

Dek waits.

Surely there is more.

There is not.

“…You are not taking them out?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Kwei glances toward his daughter, who is now trying very hard to braid one of your youngest son’s curls while he giggles uncontrollably.

“She was proud of her work.”

Dek shakes his head in disbelief.

“You really are completely wrapped around her little finger.”

Kwei does not even attempt to deny it.

“If she asks for my time…” His gaze remains fixed on his daughter. “…she shall have it.”

“If she asks you to wear flowers?”

“I will.”

“If she asks you to attend tea?”

“I will.”

“If she asks you to sit still for another hour?”

“I will.”

Dek sighs dramatically before looking at you.

“There is no saving him.”

“I know.” you smile at Dek.

The sound draws your daughter’s attention. She runs across the room, stopping in front of Kwei before lifting both arms again.

“Up.”

Without a single complaint, Kwei leans down and lifts her into his arms.

She immediately curls against his chest with a happy sigh, one little hand resting against his shoulder.

You walk over and brush one of the crooked flowers back into place among his dreadlocks.

“It suits you.”

“So I have been told.”

You smile.

“It does.”

Your daughter reaches out toward you then, patting the space between the two of them.

“Mother.”

You lean closer, she wraps one arm around your neck while remaining securely tucked against Kwei, insisting on holding both of you at once.

For a moment, the three of you simply stay like that. Your forehead resting lightly against Kwei’s. Your daughter happily sandwiched between you.

Warm.

Safe.

Loved.

Across the room, Dek watches the quiet scene unfold before quietly shaking his head with a smile.

The strongest warrior in the clan stood perfectly happy wearing crooked flowers in his dreadlocks, smelling faintly of moss tea, while a tiny little girl held his heart so completely that all she had to do was lift her arms and ask to be carried.

And Kwei knew, without the slightest doubt, that this was the greatest honour he had ever been given.

~Masterlist~