Crowned Stag (rhaenyra targaryen x male oc)

The Future Heir to Driftmark

"And how exactly does this work?" Mason asks as he places the green dragon egg in Jacaerys's cradle. Rhaenyra smiles widely, grabbing a black blanket to cover their little son.

"Just like this," Rhaenyra says softly, tucking the blanket around Jacaerys. "The egg will keep him warm and safe, and the dragon's magic will bond with him over time. It's an ancient tradition. For most Targaryens, their dragon's bond begins here—in the cradle."

Mason smiled at Jacaerys—

"And if his egg does not hatch?" Mace asked and Rhaenyra sighed.

"It will," Rhaenyra declared. Mason's smile softened as he looked down at Jacaerys, his little chest rising and falling peacefully under the blanket.

"I'm sorry," The Baratheon knight mutters softly.

"For what?"

"For not being there," Mason said, turning to her. "I know how scary that must have been for you."

Rhaenyra's expression softened as she met Mason's gaze, her fingers lingering on the edge of the cradle. "It was," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted you there, more than anything. But I understand why you couldn't be."

Mason reached out, gently cupping her cheek. "I would've moved the Seven Kingdoms to be by your side, you know that."

Rhaenyra leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a brief moment. "I know. But you're here now, with us." Her hand covered his, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. "That's what matters."

He smiled back at her.

***

A few days later, Mason came home to his family. Storm's End greeted their future lord with love but his lady wife greeted him with suspicions and accusations.

"Where did you go again?" Elenda asked as she folded one of Ellyn's dresses.

"To the Bronzegate and then to King's Landing," Mason answered quickly as he unpacked his bag, trying to keep his tone casual. But Elenda's eyes narrowed, catching the slight hesitation in his voice.

"King's Landing?" she repeated, setting the dress aside and crossing her arms. "And what business did you have there that couldn't wait until after you spent more than a single night with your family?"

Mason turned to face her, his shoulders tensing slightly. "Elenda, I am really tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

Elenda held her tongue, clearly unhappy with his response. "You always say that," she muttered, her voice filled with frustration. "Tomorrow, later—there's always some excuse."

Mason sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He knew she was right; he had been distant, distracted. But there were things he couldn't explain, not without putting her and the children at risk.

"I promise," Mason sighed, "We will talk about this tomorrow."

Elenda crossed her arms and then grabbed a blanket she had folded.

"Well before you head to bed, you should tend to your daughters," Elenda declared, throwing the blanket at him. "They've been asking me all week if you have forgotten about them."

Mason caught the blanket, feeling a pang of guilt twist in his chest. He knew Elenda was right—his daughters needed him, and he had been neglecting them in his efforts to manage everything else.

"I haven't forgotten about them," he said quietly, his eyes meeting Elenda's. "I'll go see them now."

Elenda nodded, watching him leave. "They're in their chambers."