𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝟭𝟭. 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝘁𝘅𝗼𝘇ä, 𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗿ë𝘄

"Yawntutsyìp, you must sit still," you emplored, laughing despite your frustration as Tuk suddenly turned her cheek and made you smear white paint across her browbone. With an exasperated giggle, you swiped your thumb over your tongue and cleared away the mistake before it could dry on her skin.

You and Tsireya descended upon the Sully household that morning with baskets of supplies under each arm. Long woven ceremonial garbs, pouches of pearls for twisting into tapestries of thin braids, and paint. Much paint.

"Can you do mine like Tsireya?" Tuk begged, tugging on the thin white fabric draped over your crossed knees. She was doing her best not to move as you tickled her cheeks with the thin brush. Your sister was in the corner someplace helping Kiri twist small beads into her hair. It was a miracle that you were able to get both her and Ao'nung out the door before carting off to the Sully's marui, but the biggest miracle of all would be getting yourself to the celebration on time after everyone else was taken care of.

"I will make yours look even better," you whispered, smiling at her excited gasp in hopes that it would be enough to convince her to sit still.

Despite your offering, the boys had no interest in having pearls woven into their braids. Still, they waited patiently with their backs against the wall while you fussed over their sisters.

Neteyam, who had passed his Iknimaya long before you had the pleasure of meeting him, was branded with the bold designs of a warrior of your clan. You could almost feel the pride radiating off of him as he sat deadly still waiting for his paint to dry. And while designs were consistent amongst children who had not yet completed their rites of passage, you did your best to set Lo'ak apart from his little sister.

"Tuk," you groaned, your patience wearing thin as she wriggled once more in your lap. "Please hold still, sweet child."

"Yeah, Tuk. Be good for (Y/N)."

The feather-soft edge of Jake's gravelly, authoritative voice met your ear and made you keen instantly toward the sound. He stood under the half-parted curtain, eating up the wonder on your face like a man starved. You were lost in your own world of daydreams even after he ducked inside and let the curtain fall behind him.

You barely even noticed as Tuk slipped out of your lap to hug her father around the leg, sitting back and watching them with a fond smile before remembering how disheveled you must have looked and turning away to insecurely rub the smeared paint from your face.

"A little early in the day for war paint, isn't it?" Jake asked, letting Tuk hang from his arm as he walked. His chest was still glistening with crystals of seaspray and from the breathless pride you could feel radiating from his chest, you could tell that the hunt had been a success. There would be no empty bellies in the village tonight.

"Paint is for celebration, dad," Tuk giggled pointedly. Jake set her down and spun her in a tight circle, pulling a string of laughter from her tiny chest. Feigning a gasp, he knelt down beside her and turned her face carefully to study the intricate patterns painted on each cheek. "Oh, look at you." He cooed, shooting a knowing glance in your direction. "Just beautiful, babygirl."

Tuk squealed in delight and took her father's extended hand to drag him toward the center of the marui where you sat in a circle of shells filled with paint. "You can do dad's now, right (Y/N)?"

Her request made you pause and Jake glanced down to see you in the midst of packing your supplies away on a long driftwood tray. A little dejected, he shook off his daughter's hand. "I think (Y/N) has to get going, baby. It's a busy day for everyone."

"No," you jumped in a tad more hastily than you intended. You had been looking forward to this moment all day and you weren't about to let it slip through your fingers just like that. Jake fought a knowing smile as you cleared a space in front of your folded knees. A look was exchanged between you—a silent transaction that no one else could have caught. "What kind of host would I be if I didn't spare time for Toruk Makto?"