Old drabble. Baby France/papa Gaul fluff (and some mama Gaul, aka fem!Gaul. c:)

We were around -52 B.C. As war against Ancient Rome was getting more and more violent, Ewen and his sister Genovefa -representing the country of Gaul- and a two-year-old Francis had to live in a tent in a daily basis, and to move a lot. Having to take care of the child in times of war was a big responsability.

Night was close, but the older ones still had important things to take care of. However, the little boy had to sleep. It was already way too late to stay up for him. Ewen sighed. As his sister was away at the moment, he was the one having to deal with the kid tonight. As much as he loved him, he was not sure he was good at this.

That child was far too lively. He kept bouncing and running around in the tent, obviously not sleepy at all. He had this little wood sword that Ewen had made for him as a toy, and kept waving it around.

"One daay, I will be a varrior like you !"

"Yes, Francis, now go to bed", Ewen replied in a tired voice.

"No, I don't want to go to dodo*, I want to stay up with papa !"

Far too much enthusiasm.

"Francis, papa has work to do. Really boring work."

"Francis wants to help papa !"

Gaul sighed, but he couldn't help but smile. In those hard times, this happy little boy always skipping around was probably the only thing able to bring a smile on his face. Of course, he was a lot of trouble, sometimes : earlier in the day, he had to run and almost lock him up in the tent because the silly kid had showed up on the battlefield to "defend papa because I am varrior too !". Both Ewen and his sister never had been more freaked out, and they had seen a lot before. He picked up the child, put the wood sword away from him and hugged him. Francis kept struggling, but you could see he wasn't really trying. It was all for fun.

"No ! Varriors don't do ze hug !"

"I can hug you if I want, silly little boy."

"You're not a varrior, then !"

"Say it again ?"

"Papa is not a varrior ! Papa gives hugs !"

Gaul laughed and ruffled the kid's hair.

"Papa does what he wants. And Francis must do what papa wants. Francis, go to bed."

"No."

"Francis."

It was all in their eyes. For a few seconds, they had a staring contest. The untold rule was that whoever lost had to obey. Ewen could be intimidating when he wanted to the child gave in pretty quickly. Anyway, he was really getting tired, being now in his papa's arms.

"Won't you go to bed with me for once ? Where is mama, usually she sings songs and she help me sleep…"

"I'm sorry Francis, we still have work to do."

The little boy was upset. He was way too young to sleep alone, Ewen knew it. He was going to stay pretty close to the tent and had someone to keep it under surveillance so nobody but him and Genovefa entered it but it still felt wrong. He hugged the blonde tighter, as he was getting quiet. A painful silence was sometimes way more eloquent than words. He put him to bed, kissed him on the forehead. As he was about to leave, he heard his little voice again.

"Papa ?"

"Yes ?"

"Never leave. I love you."

"I promise. I love you too."

Ewen left and immediatly regretted his promise. What the hell, he wasn't even sure they were going to win the war, it wasn't good at all at the moment, and he told the kid this ? He promised him he would never leave ?

He was a fucking idiot. This kid was their descendant. He was their future. Of course he and Genovefa were bound to disappear and to leave Francis on his own.. The question was, when ?