Disclaimer: I do not own Inkheart or any characters associated with this fan fiction.
Dustfinger sat down next to the fire that had been called by him after putting on a show for his young daughter. She had been squealing for more and more late into the night and now he had tired himself.
"Later Brianna. You need your rest." Dustfinger instructed his young daughter. He to needed to sleep; in the morning he would be leaving this beloved child and her beautiful mother for the coast, to earn some sort of money. He wanted to be sure to have gone before Brianna or Roxanne had awoken or he was for sure he would have to delay his trip for another day.
"Please Daddy, one more flower?" The four-year-old Brianna pleaded. The flowers had always been her most wanted and not even Dustfinger could refuse to accept the child's voice and her big eyes that were so like her mother's. So he caved for his daughter.
"One more flower is all." He attempted to sound stern. Brianna clapped her hands excitedly and watched as her father summoned an additional flower, and was amazed still, even after witnessing it millions of times from the time when she could walk, how the petals fashioned.
After another five minutes the child yawned and Dustfinger agreed to put the fire out. Dustfinger bent and picked up the child, and she snuggled closer to her father. Dustfinger took the child inside the simple hut that Roxanne had claimed as her own when they found it forsaken. He leaned against a wall after placing Brianna on her pitiable mattress.
Roxanne sat cradling the most recent member of their family: baby Rosanna. She looked like her mother and was starting to take the smallest of steps. Rosanna smiled her bright smile when her father snatched her tenderly away form her mother. She started playing with his fingers. Poor child he had often thought about both his children to have such a father that runs away for weeks then comes back expecting hugs and kisses.
After the night had passed and Dustfinger was waking he found his oldest daughter awake by his side, but he could still see the tiredness in her eyes. "Please Daddy, don't go today. Momma cries when you leave and I feel scared that Basta man will come."
Dustfinger pulled his daughter to his lap and held her close. She sniffled and wiped her nose on his sleeve. I can't leave wearing a dirty shirt he told himself.
"Daddy, you won't go." Brianna seemed to be demanding.
"No honey. Daddy won't go." Dustfinger promised.
"I love you daddy." The child once again snuggled closer to her father as she drifted off to sleep.
"I love you too." Dustfinger held the girl close and fell back to sleep, and he didn't leave for three weeks.