Work Text:
Olruggio sits in the living room, wedding blanket wrapped around his arms as he weaves a blanket for Agott. Her dark curls spill across the floor as she draws at the coffee table.
“Daddy, why are you making a blanket? Is it for your friend?” she asks without looking from the owl drawing. It’s a family, two with dark feathers and one with a white plume.
“I’m making the blanket for you, Agott. It’s a tradition where I’m from to make blankets for children when they’re around two, but yours is later since I didn’t know if your mother would let me give you anything,” Olruggio calmly explains as he switches the threads from the buttercups to the deep green background.
“Why two?” Agott asks as she begins to draw another owl.
“Well, babies aren’t big enough for a blanket till then,” he tells her. The weave feels nice against his hands, soft like the grass in early spring after a rain storm.
“Why?” Agott asks, drawing triangles on the new owl. Olruggio notices the Owl Adina.
“Why what, sweetheart?” he asks, trying to get her to ask full questions.
“Why can’t babies have blankets? Don’t they get cold?” Agott fills in. Her hands reach for the black crayon again.
“Well, babies can accidentally get the blanket over their face and it gets stuck, which can hurt them,” Olruggio covers, trying to not scare her with the concept of death too much. “We also dress babies in special clothes or put special spells on their cribs to keep them warm.”
“Okay,” she finishes. Her focus goes intently to her drawing, making Owl Adina have an angry face. Olruggio starts another row on the blanket, light pink roses beginning to form under the careful, steady hands that guide what he’s doing. The crackle of a pyreball in the kitchen makes Olruggio’s heart bloom with a small smile on his face.
Agott aggressively scribbles on her paper the start of letters. Olruggio tried to get her writing skills up to speed since she came to the house a few months ago, along with her fourth birthday being next week. Olruggio chuckles when he notices the angry focus on Agott’s little face, making her look like a miniature him for a small moment in time.
“Dad, how do I spell my name?” she asks, hair whipping around as she flips to look at him. Olruggio gives her a small smile.
“A. G. O. and two T’s,” he slowly instructs as she writes. Her little fist holds the crayon wrong but steadily writes her name. Olruggio sets his project on the couch and shifts down to the floor next to his daughter. “Agott, you’re holding your crayon wrong. Can I show you how to hold it?”
“No, I’m holding this good,” she confidently says. Olruggio grabs a sheet of paper and a crayon. He slowly puts the crayon in his hand the same way he would his pen. As he draws next to Agott, drawing a crude sketch of a recent commission request that he finished, Agott looks over and notices how much more controlled Olruggio’s lines are.
“Dad. Dad. Why are your lines gooder than my lines?” she asks in jealousy. Olruggio lifts his hand with the crayon a little.
“Well, I’m holding my crayon in a way that makes it easy to draw. Fists make drawing the lines hard because you can’t see the top of the crayon.” Agott drops her crayon and makes a grabby hand motion at Olruggio.
“Make my hand hold it right. Now,” she demands in full confidence. Olruggio chuckles at the demand.
“What’s the magic word, Agott?”
“Fine. Please make my hand hold it gooder,” she huffs in response. Olruggio carefully shifts her fingers before setting the crayon back in the tangled mess. “Thank you.”
“You are very welcome, Agott.”
“Hey, you two! Dinner’s ready,” Qifrey calls from the kitchen. Agott drops her crayon and runs from the coffee table.
“Agott–” Olruggio stops himself as he looks at the drawing on the table. 3 owls– him, Qifrey, and her– are in a little hug and she labeled them ‘familee’ with a ‘dad’ above his head. Adina is far away labeled ‘mama.’ Olruggio shuffles the crayons into neat rows before following after his daughter.
Qifrey and Agott have matching smiles as he sits down at the table with them. They begin to dish dinner together, a reminder that ‘family’ is what they are.