A/N: A birthday present for Feral Phoenix, who commissioned something fluffy and Cloudshippy. Well, it might not be quite as shippy as you might hope, hon, but I think you'll find there's plenty of fluff.
The Trouble with Brothers
Kiri was dubious as he looked down at the little ball of fluff. It didn't look like a person yet, and if they were going to trouble him with a little brother it might as well be one that he could do things with.
After all, he considered, watching the pale, fragile creature sleep, he had the world all figured out already. He was three years old, after all. He didn't have time for a baby. Especially not a baby that did nothing but eat, sleep, cry, spit up, and get its diaper dirty.
Where was all its hair? he wondered, because that downy white fuzz on its head couldn't possibly be hair. Maybe it was like a duckling, and it would gradually replace it with real hair. Kiri's hair was red, and he refused to accept that this little creature could have any other color. It just wasn't possible.
He reached down and tugged scornfully at the pale down on the thing's head, thinking maybe if he tugged hard enough that baby stuff would fall out and the real thing would replace it. The only result that his efforts elicited was an eruption of shrieks and tears.
Horrified, Kiri strove to quiet the thing. If he got caught making the baby cry, he'd be in a lot of trouble.
But it didn't listen when he told it to be quiet. It just cried louder when he put his hand over its mouth to stifle the noise. One of its flailing arms caught him on the nose, and he scowled angrily at it. It figured that the stupid thing was broken.
He leaned over the cradle in a last desperate attempt. "Come on, be quiet," he pleaded. "Please?"
The thing briefly stopped in its bawling to contemplate him, snuffling. Then, in a swifter motion than he ever would have suspected from the thing, it grabbed his hair. Kiri tried to jerk back, but the baby's grip was too strong.
"Let go, would ya?" he growled, finally freeing himself, but his actions set off a new round of hysterics. Unable to think of anything else to do that would stop the crying, he hastily shoved his head back in reach. Immediately both hands buried themselves in his red mane.
Kiri was not happy. Not only did this little monster have to go and mess everything up, but now he was stuck with his head over its cradle. And it was not comfortable.
Finally he had an idea. Carefully he reached down and lifted the thing out, hoping against hope that it would not disturb the infant. Unable to carry its weight for more than a few seconds, Kiri settled into a comfortable seat with the baby on his lap.
Contrary to his fears, the little beast seemed content to snuggle into its older brother's warmth. Sleepily, the thing sacrificed its grip on his hair to grab the cloth of his shirt.
Kiri watched in fascination as this thing they called his little brother drifted off to sleep in his lap. He seemed so delicate and breakable while it dreamed, as if the slightest gust of wind could shatter him, and the peace and sweetness in that tiny face with him. Kiri was surprised to find himself vowing that he wouldn't let anything happen to him. After all, the baby needed someone to protect him, and who better to do it than big, strong, Kiri?
Yes, he thought solemnly, from now on he would defend Kumo from all the evil sorcerers and mad kings and ferocious dragons and terrifying monsters that would threaten him.
"G'night, Kumo," he whispered as the sandman beckoned him, too. His last thought before drifting off to dream of redheaded knights in shining armor and delicate damsels in distress was that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have a little brother after all.