shadowsong26 | avatar ficbit

Title: Little Light of Mine
Rating: PG/PG-13
Summary: A Fire man comforts his distressed niece.

Washi was the second of seven children. He had one elder sister, three younger, and two younger brothers. Most of the family still lived in their hometown, with their parents. Kirana, the youngest of the girls, had gone to the temple for training, and Mentari, the middle brother, was in the military. Satria, the eldest, had been in the military, too, but two years after her return, had moved with Washi to the artisan and merchant community, known colloquially as the Outer City, nestled next to the capital. Washi, like their father, was a potter, and Satria had been given a position in the palace guard. Satria's daughter, Kakera, lived with them, as well.

Kakera had just recently started bending herself, not long after the Crown Prince's banishment. He and Satria hadn't been entirely expecting it, given the...circumstances of her parentage (especially as she had the green eyes to show for it). As with everything about her daughter, Satria had mixed feelings about the child's bending, so Washi had been the one to find a teacher for his niece and clean up the inevitable accidental burns she gave herself.

"Washi-oji?"

Washi looked up from his wheel to see Kakera in the doorway. She was crying. He carefully stopped the flywheel with his foot and wiped the wet clay from his hands on a towel. "Sweetheart? What's wrong? Did you burn yourself again?"

Kakera shook her head, and, heedless of the spatters of still-wet clay on his apron, buried her face in his side. "Got home f-from school and showed Mommy my writing test and sh-she got real mad but I did really good..."

Washi winced a little, and put his arms around his niece. "She's not mad at you, sweetheart, I promise. She's just having...one of those days. You know it happens sometimes." Meanwhile, in the back of his mind, he scrambled to try and remember if today was any type of significant trigger for Satria, and, if it was, how to explain it to Kakera without making her feel unwanted or unloved. Because Satria did love her daughter, at least most of the time. She was almost always able to separate her justifiable rage towards Kakera's father from her feelings for the little girl. And, when she wasn't, well, that's why was there.

Kakera nodded silently, still keeping her face buried in his side.

Slightly relieved that she hadn't asked more, Washi moved over to a stool and pulled her up onto his lap. "Can I see your writing test?" he asked, hoping to distract her a little and cheer her up.

She nodded again and pulled the slightly crumpled paper out of her pocket. They were basic characters, none more than ten strokes, having to do with movement and direction. Other than mixing up the characters for right and left, she'd gotten all of them right. Washi made sure to praise her for it, and it did seem to help. At the very least, she stopped crying.

After a little while, he ruffled her hair and put her back on the ground. He gave her some clay scraps to play with, deciding it would be better to keep her here for the time being, and give Satria some time to calm down. He hadn't been able to figure out if today held any specific trigger for his older sister, so it was more likely that something had happened to more immediately wind her up. Kakera was never in the way in his workshop, and he could keep an eye on her to make sure she didn't accidentally hurt herself.

This type of arrangement couldn't last forever, though. Unless he wanted to take his niece on as an apprentice when she turned ten, she'd need to start spending time elsewhere than in his workshop. And while she didn't seem to mind playing with the clay and even had a little bit of talent for it--as far as he could tell, when she was so young--she got bored more quickly than the kids who'd been his father's apprentices back in their hometown. He didn't think putting her in that position would make her very happy.

He might ask the palace pagemaster if a place could be found for her there. It would give her an opportunity to run around and be with people, more so than his workshop did. That would probably suit her better. He smiled a little, looking up to see her squishing the clay between her fingers. She caught his eye, grinned, and made a silly face. He relaxed and turned back to his wheel. He could work out the details of the page work tomorrow. For now, he'd calmed her down and made her happy again, which was the important thing.