The thing about Eggsy is that he’s very good at getting people to do what he wanted them to. Just, not exactly in the way that most people are.
See, Eggsy has been basically raising Daisy for the last few years. Michelle helps when she’s in the mood, but that’s not as often as one might expect. It’s gotten better since Eggsy joined Kingsman and Michelle is alone with Daisy more often, but he still doesn’t quite trust her with the baby, and checks in regularly.
This is partially because no one can handle Daisy like Eggsy. Dirty hands all over his nice clean suit? That’s what dry cleaning is for. Crying for absolutely no reason at three A.M.? Lullabies are sent from heaven. Screaming her way through an uncontrollable tantrum? Eggsy has a “dad” voice that most actual dads would kill for.
It’s this last bit that really boosts his ability to get shit done. When Eggsy wants something, really wants it, not just mildly desires, he automatically and subconsciously adopts the tone he uses to make Daisy listen. And people, including Kingsman agents, are just programed to respond to that voice.
When Charlie gets a little too mouthy during training, Eggsy looks at him and says “that’s enough” just the way he does right before he puts Daisy in timeout. Charlie sits down, and shuts up. It takes him a full minute to realize what just happened, and then he flushes bright red. He immediately gets up, like it’s a rebellion, even though Eggsy never told him to sit down and is now paying absolutely zero attention to him.
When Roxy starts getting too worked up thinking there’s no way she’ll pass the next test, Eggsy looks at her seriously and says firmly, “Love, you need to calm down. Deep breaths. You’ve got this.” Roxy’s breathing evens out and she squares her shoulders without a second thought.
When they doing a field simulation where they have to avoid mines, Eggsy has only to shout “Stop!” in a certain tone, and everyone just freezes. Digby still has one foot in the air, which is lucky, since he was the one Eggsy was originally trying to halt.
He doesn’t really mean to do it; it just sort of happens. Most of all, he doesn’t even really notice. Other people do. They recognize that they’re being talked to like toddlers, but are so embarrassed by how quickly they respond that no one ever says anything to him.
And it’s not really a problem. For all that Eggsy has his own flaws, that tone always comes out for the good of whatever group he’s in. He doesn’t abuse it, and it's impossible for him to be condescending when he isn't even aware of it. The other recruits eventually accept it as one of his quirks, and life moves on with Eggsy himself none the wiser.
It doesn’t start getting awkward until he’s already inducted to the table, and working with older knights. It’s one thing to use the “dad voice” on people his own age, but when everyone around him is so much older than him…well, it has a different force.
“Use your walking feet inside, Darling,” he absently chides Kay after he stops him from going face first into a wall when there was no reason for them to rush in the first place.
Kay stares at him, then just nods and mumbles, “Sorry,” awkwardly.
“Maybe try putting on your listening ears, hon,” Eggsy cuts off Harry when he and Merlin are trying to get their next mission set up and Harry insists on inserting his own smart comments every few seconds. Harry’s mouth drops open and he goes bright red. Eggsy doesn’t notice.
“Say bye bye to the building,” Eggsy urges Bors in a coaxing tone once they’ve set it to blow.
“Bye bye,” Bors copies immediately, not at all sarcastically.
“Do you think he even knows?” Tristan asks one day after they’ve watched the youngest agent tell the new group of recruits to sit “criss-cross applesauce” so he can explain the next trial.
“He’s completely oblivious,” Percival asserts firmly. “That’s why we put up with it.”
Tristan agrees and they both watch Eggsy offer a sticker to whoever does the best in this exercise. The recruits’ faces are priceless, but they are absolutely vicious during the test. A few end up in the infirmary. The one who wins the sticker holds it up like a vindication, flushed with victory. It ends up stuck to his headboard and the other recruits occasionally cast it jealous looks.
Daisy grows and, the knights expect that to be the end of Eggsy’s little daddy moments. They’re almost sorry to see it go. There’s just something so cute about Eggsy, the smallest (bar Roxy) and most delicate looking of all of them, ordering them around so absentmindedly.
Eggsy doesn’t stop. No one asks him to. It grows to be part of who he is, and it is a part that they all find too endearing to discourage. It charms all of the knights, and they discourage any of the new recruits from speaking against it.
Eggsy himself remains completely oblivious. He never notices the occasional vocal slips or the way everyone reacts to them.
They remain a part of his usual manner of speaking until he gently asks the newest Gareth to “Use your inside voice, Sweet,” as he finishes packing up his office for retirement at the ripe old age of eighty-five after being Arthur for thirty years. He’s lived a long and full life. And he’s spent most of it getting shit done by speaking to grown adults like toddlers.