*In these snippets, they seemed to write with Gilan being several years older as each one happens.

David rubbed his chin, acting like he was in some deep thought. "Where could Gilan be?" He asked out loud, ignoring the quiet snuffles of amusement. "He's not in the closet, he's not under the desk..."

Laughter erupted from his son as David snatched him off the ground from where he had been hiding behind the curtains. "Got you," he said triumphantly, tickling Gilan into an even great laughing fit.

"Daddy, stop," the boy choked out, then burst out laughing again as David bounced him in the air. "Hide again, Da!"

David settled Gilan on his hip before replying, "I'm afraid we have to go to breakfast. What shall we eat? Eggs? Sausages? Little blond boys?" With that, David began making eating noises into Gilan's neck, who again laughed until he was gasping for air.

David threw Gilan up onto his shoulders before exiting the chamber. According to Gilan, David thought smugly, he was the most hilarious being in the kingdom.

Kids were great.

David gnawed his lip as he moved his pen across the report in his lap. A familiar shriek of laughter made the man look up, lips creeping upward. Gilan, cheerfully romping about the courtyard garden. Winter had at long last melted away, and today, the bright sunlight highlighted the colorful hues of spring. A gentle breeze tickled the air and rippled the shining pond; a perfect day for playing outside, David had announced, gathering his work before following his son into the garden.

Closing his eyes for a moment, David's lips tilted upwards as he enjoyed the sunshine on his face and the sound of his son's amusement. The weight of his portable desk and an impressive stack of paperwork sat heavy on his lap, but just for a bit, he would savor this moment of relaxation.

Light footsteps and the feeling of a certain small someone nestling against his side made David open his eyes. "Hello, my sweet boy," the Battlemaster said fondly, smiling at his six year old as he reached to smooth the downy blond hair.

Gilan snuggled closer, and David's arm automatically draped securely over him. "What are you doing?" the boy asked, nudging the papers.

"Lots of work," the Battlemaster replied, wincing as his son's face fell.

"Oh," Gilan answered, his voice seeping with disappointment. "Maybe... maybe later... you could play? After you're done?"

David paused for a moment before setting his pen down. "You know, it really is too nice a day to spend it doing paperwork," he said, a smile creeping its way onto his face. "What do you want to do, Gilly?"

Gilan's blue eyes lit up, and with a squeal of excitement, he scrambled to his feet. "Can we catch frogs?"

David chuckled as he allowed his son to pull him towards the pond. The sun was shining and his kid wanted to play.

Work could wait.

"Dad, could I -"

David startled, the pen jolting in his hand and leaving a smear on the paper. With a sigh, the Battlemaster leaned down and gave his son a long suffering look. "Gilan, I'm working. I have a lot I need to do."

Sprawled under the desk, Gilan sighed and absently kicked the table leg. David made another noise of annoyance and gave his son a stern glance. "Find somewhere else to play, son."

"I'm not playing," Gilan mumbled grumpily. "Playing means you're having fun."

David nudged him with his foot. "Haven't I kicked you out once already today?"

Wiggling away from his father's foot, Gilan winced. "Well, yes, but-"

"No. Out."

Heaving a dramatic groan, Gilan hauled himself to his feet and towards the door, consoling himself with the fact that dads were just boring sometimes.

Gilan sniffed and wrapped his arms around his knees. He had wedged himself into a nook of hay bales, the day's events destined to replay in his mind.

His father had raised his voice -yelled- at him. In front of the whole room. Then, as Gilan stood shell shocked, his father had dutifully ignored him, turning back to the conversation and leaving his son with tears in his eyes.

Yes, Gilan had been being a pest. Yes, he had earned a reprimand. However, the harshness, along with the cold dismissal, had hurt.

The loft ladder creaked, and the boy froze mid sniff.

"Gilan? Barric said you were up here."

His dad. Gilan impatiently dashed the tears that had inexplicably welled and huddled deeper into the hay bales.

A sigh, then the floorboards creaking as they were settled on. "That's alright. You don't have to come out." A pause, then David spoke again, his voice thicker now. "I'm sorry. My actions were out of line, and for that I'm truly sorry."

Gilan didn't answer, but he did withdraw himself from the hay bales just a bit.

"I was frustrated and spoke without thinking." David took a breath, and Gilan stilled, because was his dad crying? "What kind of father hurts his son enough to make him feel like he has to hide from him in a hay loft?"

Hearing his father wetly inhale, the boy crept out a touch more.

"You being born was the best moment of my life. I love you so much." David swallowed a sob. "I need you to know that." The floorboards creaked again as David stood. "I'll leave you alone now."

Gilan finally stood. "Wait," he said, before dashing into his father's open arms.

Sometimes, a hug said everything words could not.

More absolutely tooth-rotting fluff. I do apologize for my semi-long hiatus; work has kept me very busy and I've had some crappy things happen in my personal life that I have been occupied with.

Reviews are loved - I'm always greatly appreciative of feedback. I am always looking to improve my writing, and knowing what I'm doing well and knowing what I need to improve on is important to me.

Have a lovely day!

-TrustTheCloak