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Published:
2022-06-20
Completed:
2022-06-21
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2/2
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A Girl's First Love is Her Father

Summary:

After the events of LN11, Katarina thinks about fathers, and trust, and love. Her father overhears.

Chapter 2: Luigi confronts Dan. The king tries to intervene.

(Written in honor of Father's Day)

Notes:

Brief summary of the relevant parts of LN11 I'm referring to in this fic:

- Katarina, Lana and Maria accompany Dewey Percy when visiting his many siblings, and also meet the alcoholic and abusive Percy parents. Lana arranges for the Percy siblings to be moved to ministry housing, and their parents are "sent away".

- During this, she and Dewey's brother run into Sarah, the mysterious dark magic user; Katarina manages to fend off Sarah's dark magic (impressing Dewey's brother while doing so)

- They also run into Maria's father, who has been sending money to Maria's mother, and has cultivated a reputation as a drunk to 'protect' Maria and her mother by taking the blame for the failed relationship on himself. He and Maria make a tentative start at rebuilding their relationship, and Katarina cries while watching.

- After all this, Maria and Katarina go shopping and run into the rest of the former Student Council. They have tea together and Katarina relates the story of their adventures.

Chapter 1: The Best Dad

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

As long as she’s with her friends, Katarina can ignore the darker, angrier, sadder feelings. She can be happy that Dewey’s siblings are safe, and she can be happy that Maria is talking to her long-lost father.

She doesn’t have to think about what - to be precise, who - Dewey’s siblings have to be saved from, and she doesn’t have to think about why Maria’s father has been missing for so long, and she doesn’t have to beat back the thought that “pretending to be drunk” doesn’t really make up for it. She doesn’t have to wonder how much of the tears she’d cried then were happy for her friend, and how much was rage and sadness, and how much is that justified, and is she only so angry because deep down she’s a villainess.

Instead she laughs with her friends, pouts when they scold her (“Don’t you know how dangerous that was?” and she doesn’t think about the cold of the darkness pouring over her, and the hungry look in Sarah’s eyes when she’d looked at Katarina), eats sweets, drinks tea.

She can get through it all as long as her friends are with her.

But the day ends, as days have to, and she gets back in the carriage and while Keith is there, so are her thoughts. She feels tired and sad and somehow lonely. And - she can’t help it - she thinks. 

A dangerous pastime, she knows. 

It had been a long day. One dramatic family event would have made the day feel long by itself, but two plus a run-in with darkness and then on top of that an outing with her friends - it feels like a week of finals crammed into this one single day. 

“Sister?” She turns her head to look at her brother. Keith’s face is furrowed in worry - not the usual ‘Oh god what have you done now and what will we need to do to fix it’ but the deeper, ‘Are you all right?’ worry that only shows for real danger. Or real sorrow. She looks at him and thinks, ‘His bio-father was shitty too.’

“I’m glad father brought you into the family,” she says aloud, and lays her head on her brother’s shoulder. 

Their parents are waiting for them when the carriage gets home - their father beaming, their mother’s brow slightly furrowed, as usual. 

Katarina looks at her father and feels a sudden surge of emotion. It’s more sentiment and chaos, a roiling in her subconscious, rather than anything with words: love, trust, gratefulness, joy, a kind of guilt that she gets to have this man as a father, instead of the frankly worthless examples so many of her friends have to live with - remembrances of a warm hand on her head, a laugh and arms outstretched when she’d climbed too high, a kiss on her forehead, an expectant smile, jewels and silks laid out for her, tears shed in fear for her…

…the certainty that no matter what happens, no matter what she does, Luigi Claes will love her. That even if everyone else turns against her, if the game shunts destiny back onto its anti-Katarina rails, if she is so evil she gets exiled, if she is so careless she brings shame upon House Claes, if she is so deranged she gets herself killed - Luigi is the one person in the world who will still love her. The game at least never took that away from Katarina Claes.

She hurls herself at her father without thinking, hugging him hard and burying her face into his shoulder. “Dad,” she says, forgetting to be formal, “I love you. Thank you for being my dad. You’re the best father in the world.” 

Shocked, but pleased, Luigi strokes his daughter’s dark hair. “I love you too, my cute Katarina. You’re the best daughter in the world!” he replies, and Katarina laughs sadly into his shoulder. Then all the day seems to catch up to her in that instant and she slumps against him tiredly - trusting that her father won’t let her fall. 

She yawns, nuzzles deeper into her father’s shoulder, and falls asleep. 

Keith, Miridiana and Luigi all stare at Katarina for a moment; then Miridiana and Luigi’s eyes dart to Keith. 

“What happened?” Miridiana demands, while her husband sweeps Katarina up into a carry-hold. Katarina’s head lolls against her father’s shoulder, her face slack with deep exhaustion. In her stillness she seems so much smaller than she usually does.

“They said - she said…”

“Keith,” says Luigi, and his voice is serious and calm - guiding his young son as he always does. But his expression as he looks at his sleeping daughter is tight.

“Deep breaths, son. Now - count to three, and then make your report. Just the important points. You went to meet up with Katarina during her free day. Where did you meet with her? What happened?”

Keith does as instructed, calms himself, and explains what Katarina and Maria had gone through before meeting up with the rest of them. 

“Dark magic again,” Luigi mutters, laying an absent-minded kiss on Katarina’s hair while plots and counterplots revolve behind his eyes. 

“And terrible parents,” notes Miridiana in a quiet voice, moving closer to her husband and child. 

“I agree with my sister,” Keith says, his voice wobbling ever so slightly. “You are the best parents in the world.” 

Luigi smiles back at him; Miridiana glances at her daughter, and her eyes are sad and thoughtful. 

Luigi carries Katarina up to her bedroom, giving quiet orders to the servants he encounters along the way. They hurry off to prepare tea, bandages, soothing oils, water. He ignores Keith’s offer to carry Katarina. 

He is alone when he carries his daughter to her bed, and lays her down on the blankets with one last kiss on her forehead. He remembers carrying a tiny Katarina to this very room, her eyes bright as she babbles details of her day to him in a lisping toddler voice; long vigils by her bedside, afraid and praying to the gods to spare her life; tucking her into bed with a story and a hug. When…when was the last time he’d done that…?

“Dad…” His thoughts are interrupted by Katarina’s sleep-slurred voice. He turns to see half-closed eyes, glassy with drowsiness, looking at him. “Dad is the best,” she says again, and smiles. Luigi clutches his chest. His daughter…is truly the cutest in the world…! 

“And almost as cool as,” Katarina yawns hugely, “Uncle Dan…”

Luigi freezes in place, hand still clutched into his shirt.

Katarina falls back asleep.

Notes:

Next chapter should be more humorous, and should end this fic.

Chapter 2: The Coolest Dad

Summary:

Luigi fights for his right to remain the coolest guy in his daughter's eyes.

Notes:

Considerably more crack-y than the previous chapter. Folds in a lot of headcanons I have about the previous generation of Hamefura's main cast.

Chapter Text

It is one of the ‘special meetings,’ as King Owain thinks of them - a day when he, his Prime Minister, and his most powerful duke are all free enough to meet. Not only are all their schedules packed, but Luigi’s ability to maneuver would be hampered if people knew how close the childhood friends still are. The Duke of Claes is neutral; the Duke of Claes is powerful, but not that powerful. It’s important people think this, for stability in the realm. Regular meetings with the king would not exactly help this impression. So Owain is always grateful when the stars align just right. 

Luigi and Dan are shadowed by their sons, as usual; Owain has managed to arrange things so his twin sons are present as well, which is considerably more unusual. 

King Owain has been looking forward to this for weeks. In a life dominated by the needs of the kingdom, this is one of the closest things he gets to an outing with his friends and family. 

So Luigi’s grim mood is an unhappy development.

Keith Claes looks as surprised as any of them. Luigi is unsmiling; his replies informative and polite, but delivered in a clipped voice. His eyes are cold. Nicol, Geordo and Alan - more used to a smiling, amiable Luigi, a laughing and indulgent host, an amused spectator to their childhood play, a reliable and knowing mentor - are noticeably tense and eye him warily. Owain suddenly thinks of the half-grown puppies in the royal kennel, watching Ravager - the lead dog in the hunt pack - pacing. 

Dan notices as well, of course, but with years of experience in ignoring his political rivals continues with his work. 

The tension builds. 

Keith is nibbling nervously at a tea-biscuit. Geordo has accidentally snapped a pencil in two. Alan is drumming his fingers on the table. Nicol sits beside his father, as competent and quiet as ever, but with a worried set to his stance. Owain finds himself mirroring Alan’s rhythm with his own fingers. 

The tension breaks.

“Augh, I can’t take it anymore,” Luigi bursts out, shooting to his feet. Beside him, Keith jolts a good few inches straight into the air. 

“You! Dan!” He points a finger at Dan, who blinks. This reaction merely seems to infuriate Luigi further.

“Katarina is not allowed to go to your house any more!”

“Oh,” is the only thing Nicol says, his mouth turning down a miniscule, almost microscopic amount, at the corners. A stranger would say (if they were not already swooning at the sight of Nicol’s face) that Nicol was mildly inconvenienced by this statement. 

But to his father, it is as clear a sign of Nicol’s distress at Luigi’s pronouncement as it would have been if Nicol burst into tears. A whirlwind of memories bites at Dan - the sneers and the haughty laughs, deliberately half-smothered, Radea’s tired smile, Nicol’s set jaw, Sophia’s tears - people who strike at his children for Dan’s sin of daring to rise above his station - the too many times they have been hurt and rejected - and he finds himself on his feet as well.

“How dare you?” he snarls back at his old friend. “What have my children ever done that - “

“Luigi! Dan! Stop it!” barks the king. 

He is roundly ignored. 

“Nicol is a good boy!” his father insists.

“A very good boy,” agrees Luigi. “Superb with the trowel. A good hand at sowing, Katarina tells me.”

Nicol wiggles uncomfortably at all this positive sentiment. 

Dan squints suspiciously at Luigi. “Is it - Sophia? Are you objecting to Sophia?” His eyes narrow further. “Is this about the…books?”

“What books?”

“...no books. I was just checking. So - what do you object to, then, that you won’t let Katarina come visit my children?”

“What? Your children? What do they have to do with this?” Luigi says, looking confused. “Nicol is a wonder, and such a good influence on the younger ones; Sophia is an angel full-fledged. Miridiana never tires of rejoicing how she broadens Katarina’s mind with all their reading. They’re great kids. They must,” and he gives Dan a scornful look, “get it from Radea.” 

(“I’m a great kid too,” Alan, Keith and Geordo want to say, but don’t.)

“The thing I object to,” Luigi announces, drawing himself up to his full height, “is you.” 

Dan blinks again, the first rush of ‘overprotective father’ fading away to ‘Luigi is at it again’. He relaxes back into his seat. “Oh? Do tell,” he drawls, in that insouciant way he knows drives his enemies crazy. 

“You are a thief, and a liar, and a charlatan,” Luigi accuses him, jabbing his finger with each new name. 

“Aw, but Lulu-kins,” Dan continues to drawl, using the childhood name a particularly unliked aunt had foisted on a very unwilling Luigi - which, of course, his friends had forever remembered. “Why so cruel?”

“You have stolen Katarina’s admiration from me!” howls Luigi. 

“What?!” comes from multiple throats, except Dan’s - he just leans back and smirks. 

“...and my poor baby, so tired from fending off a dark magic attack - yet again - falls asleep in my arms, after telling me she loves me and that I’m the best father in the world,” Luigi narrates, teary-eyed from the memory. 

(“Are you boasting, father-in-law?” Geordo murmurs.

“He is not your father-in-law,” Keith hisses. 

“Not yet, maybe.” 

“Not ever!”)

 

“And so I take her up to her bed, my poor little lamb, and she does not even stir because she is exhausted from being the sweet and adorable ray of sunshine battling the forces of darkness and evil that she is,” continues Luigi. “And then - and then - I lay her down and tuck her in and kiss her goodnight…”

(“He is boasting!” 

“Father, you kind of are…”)

“And she says, again, that I am the best dad in the world…”

(“He is!”

“...he is.”

“He’s always been really decent to us.”

“Yes.”)

 

“And ‘almost as cool as Uncle Dan’. In the first place why is she calling you Uncle?!” 

“Well maybe one day I’ll have another title, if she and Nicol….”

Geordo stiffens and glares like an angry cat. 

“And in the second why is she calling you cool?! She has no cause to! You have no right to go around being cool around her!” Luigi rants, completely ignoring Dan’s previous statement. 

“Can I help it if I am what I am?” Dan asks, shrugging in a way he has that has previously caused other men to crack molars with the force of their jaws clenching in rage. Nicol is covering his reddened face with his hand. 

“I am her father! I should be the coolest man in the world to her, not you!” Luigi complains. 

The four boys stir restlessly. 

“Well, it’s hardly my fault that you aren’t,” Dan counters, enjoying himself immensely and showing it. “I can’t help it if Lulu-kins can’t impress his own daughter…”

“...bout me?” A soft murmur interrupts Luigi’s probable assault on the Prime Minister. 

All heads snap to the king. 

“What about me?” he repeats, in a louder voice. “What does Katarina think of me? I am going to be her father-in-law…”

“Pshaw,” scoffs Dan, under his breath. “We’ll see about that.”

“Oh, you,” Luigi says, in a flat voice, with a flat stare at his liege. “I have told her to think of you as a potato.”

“...what?”

“She gets nervous thinking about having to meet you formally. So I told her to think of you as a potato.”

“Oh,” Keith murmurs to himself. “Maybe that’s why she keeps saying the king has brown hair and brown eyes. I thought she just couldn’t remember his descriptions from lessons.”

“Don’t - don’t worry, dad!” Alan says hurriedly to his visibly drooping father. “Katarina likes potatoes! She made me play a concert to them once!” 

“Did she now?” purrs Geordo, leaning in closer. “And when was this? A concert, you say? Played for her….and her potatoes. Was anyone else there?”

“Uh….”

“Welcome back, husband! How was your meeting?”

“...me and Dan and Owain aren’t allowed to have meetings for a while,” Luigi confesses. “Queen’s orders. Keith will represent me for the time being, and the princes will stand in for the king, Nicol for Dan…”

“Luigi? Why do you have a black eye?”

“That’s…related to the reason we’re not allowed to have meetings….”