Chapter Text
Rose's POV
The atmosphere in the private dining hall felt strangely fragile.
Not unhappy.
Not yet.
But there was a heaviness beneath every smile and every conversation that Rose could feel no matter how hard everyone tried to ignore it.
Tomorrow they would leave.
Tomorrow the children would ride south with Prince Maron and Princess Daenerys. Tomorrow Rhaegal and Alys would accompany them. Tomorrow Lyonel would depart for Storm's End. Tomorrow the family that had somehow become hers would scatter across the Seven Kingdoms in preparation for the storm they all knew was coming.
Tonight was the last night they would all be together.
And perhaps because everyone understood that, no one seemed eager to sit down.
The children lingered in clusters, talking amongst themselves while servants brought out dishes and wine. The adults drifted between conversations, each of them pretending not to count the hours remaining before dawn.
Rose stood near the doors with her sleeves rolled up and a flour stain still somehow clinging to one cuff despite changing twice.
She had spent the other half of the day in the kitchens.
The cooks had thought she was insane.
Again.
At this point they barely questioned her anymore.
The doors finally opened and the last platters were carried inside, filling the room with rich scents of herbs, tomatoes, garlic, roasted meat and freshly baked bread.
That seemed to gather everyone's attention.
Good.
Because she had gone slightly overboard.
Again.
Baelor walked over and immediately slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her gently against his side.
His wife.
Gods.
She still liked hearing that.
Rose leaned comfortably against him while the family gradually settled around the enormous table.
King Daeron sat at its head as he always did, Queen Myriah beside him. Prince Maron and Princess Daenerys occupied places nearby while Maekar, Aerys, Aelinor Rhaegal, Alys, Baelor, Rose, Lyonel, Dunk and the children filled the remaining seats.
For a moment nobody spoke.
The King looked around the room slowly.
At his children.
At his grandchildren.
At his family.
At the people who had become family.
Rose saw the sadness in his eyes immediately.
So did everyone else.
When Daeron finally spoke, his voice carried easily through the room.
"When I was younger, I believed strength meant standing alone."
The room quieted entirely.
The King folded his hands together.
"Years have taught me otherwise."
His gaze moved toward his sons.
Then his grandchildren.
Then Rose.
"Strength is not standing alone. It is enduring because others stand beside you."
No one interrupted.
Not even the children.
Tomorrow was too important for interruptions.
"We face difficult months ahead," the King continued. "Some of us will remain here. Some of us will travel south. Some will govern castles and cities while others will protect our people. We may be separated by distance for a time, but we remain one family."
Rose noticed Alys reaching for Daenora's hand.
Rhaegal placing an arm around Aelora's shoulders.
Baelor squeezing her waist gently.
The King's voice softened.
"I am proud of every one of you."
That nearly broke her.
Gods.
She hated goodbye speeches.
"I ask only one thing."
Everyone watched him.
"Take care of one another."
His eyes lingered on the children.
"Be brave."
Then on his sons.
"Be steady."
Then finally on the room as a whole.
"And remember that no sickness, no distance and no hardship changes who we are."
The silence that followed felt warm rather than uncomfortable.
Like a blanket wrapped around the room.
Eventually the King smiled.
Then looked directly at Rose.
"Now before your husband starts staring holes through the food, I believe tonight's feast belongs to our newest princess."
Laughter immediately broke the tension.
Rose pointed at Daeron.
"Thank you for that."
The King looked entirely unrepentant.
Rose rose from her chair.
"Alright."
The children immediately sat straighter.
That made her smile.
"Tonight's dinner is called spaghetti and meatballs."
Blank stares.
Exactly what she expected.
Rose gestured toward the massive serving dishes occupying the center of the table.
Long strands of pasta sat beneath rich tomato sauce while large handmade meatballs rested throughout. Fresh herbs decorated the top and baskets of warm bread surrounded the platters.
The scent alone had the children looking interested.
Valarr looked hopeful.
Matarys looked ready to attack.
Egg looked ready to climb the table.
"Now," Rose continued, "before anyone commits crimes against food, let me show you how this works."
That earned several suspicious looks.
Rose grabbed her fork.
Twisted it carefully.
Lifted a neat bundle of pasta.
"Like this."
The children watched.
The adults watched.
Then Matarys immediately ignored her instructions and attempted to eat an entire forkful the size of his head.
Rose sighed.
"Matarys."
The boy froze.
Half a noodle dangled from his mouth.
The entire table burst into laughter.
Even Baelor.
Especially Baelor.
"I regret nothing," Matarys declared.
The noodles disagreed.
Several fell directly into his lap.
Rose covered her face.
Valarr nearly fell out of his chair laughing.
Even Aerion smirked.
That alone was worth documenting.
Soon enough everyone began eating.
And then the reactions started.
The wonderful reactions.
The ones Rose lived for.
Daella closed her eyes after the first bite and immediately declared it her favorite food.
Rhae somehow managed to get sauce on her nose within two minutes.
Egg asked if he could eat this every day for the rest of his life.
Daenora smiled quietly through nearly her entire meal, her happiness showing more in the softness of her expression than in words.
Aelora asked thoughtful questions about how pasta was made and whether different flours changed the texture, sounding suspiciously like a future scholar.
Aelor, meanwhile, attempted to slurp a noodle nearly the length of his arm and looked personally betrayed when it slapped sauce across his chin and onto the front of his tunic.
Kiera approached the meal with considerably more dignity than the younger children, though Rose caught her trying very hard not to smile after her first bite. The girl eventually admitted it was excellent and immediately asked if the recipe would be included in the collection being sent to Dorne.
Valarr requested the recipe before finishing his first serving.
Matarys finished his first serving before Rose had completed her second bite.
Aerion spent ten minutes pretending he wasn't impressed before reluctantly asking for more.
Daeron immediately demanded to know how difficult the noodles were to produce on a larger scale.
Aemon wanted written instructions, measurements, diagrams and likely an entire dissertation on the subject. Honestly, Rose wasn't entirely convinced the boy cared about eating it so much as understanding how it worked.
Meanwhile the adults fared little better.
Queen Myriah adored it.
Princess Daenerys requested copies of every recipe being sent south.
Prince Maron declared he would happily dedicate land in Dorne to growing whatever ingredients were necessary.
Rhaegal asked for thirds.
Alys asked for the recipe as well after seeing how happy her children were while eating.
Maekar accused Rose of trying to spoil the children.
Rose pointed out he was currently eating his fourth meatball.
Lyonel loudly announced that the Stormlands had been tragically deprived of proper cuisine until now.
Dunk simply kept eating. Rose had learned long ago that Dunk's silence around food was usually the highest praise possible.
The sight of all of them together around the table made something ache inside her chest.
Because this was what she would miss.
Not the politics. Not the titles. Not the ceremonies.
This.
The laughter. The teasing. The children talking over one another. The adults pretending they weren't just as excited about new food. The warmth. The family.
By the time the final plates were being cleared, everyone seemed lighter somehow.
As though for one evening they had collectively decided to forget what tomorrow would bring.
Then Rose stood.
And grinned.
Immediately several children cheered.
"Oh no," Maekar said.
Rose pointed at him.
"Oh yes."
The doors opened and servants entered carrying multiple pavlovas.
The room actually fell silent.
Towering layers of crisp meringue rose high above the platter while fresh whipped cream spilled between layers and berries decorated every available surface.
The adults stared.
The children stared.
Lyonel actually stood.
"What in the Seven Hells is that?"
Rose grinned wider.
"Dessert."
And just like that, for one final evening before duty scattered them across the realm, laughter filled the room once more.
The pavlova proved every bit as successful as Rose had hoped it would.
By the time the first slices had been served, the tension that had lingered around the room all evening had softened into something warmer. It had not disappeared entirely, she did not think anything could truly erase the knowledge of what tomorrow would bring, but for a little while laughter had become easier, smiles had become more genuine, and the looming shadow of departure had retreated far enough into the background that everyone could simply enjoy being together.
The children certainly had no trouble with that.
Rhae somehow managed to get whipped cream on her nose within moments of receiving her slice, which immediately sent Daella into helpless laughter. Egg was already halfway through his own serving and eyeing the platter with the sort of determination usually reserved for military campaigns. Even Daenora, who was often quieter than the others, seemed brighter tonight, her shy smiles appearing more frequently as she sat tucked between her parents.
Around the table the adults were proving little better.
Princess Daenerys had already asked for the recipe twice. Queen Myriah was discussing berries with one of the servants. Prince Maron looked simultaneously delighted and deeply concerned by the number of recipes Rose intended to send south with his family.
"Rose," he said after listening to yet another explanation involving pastries, cream, and fruit. "I fear my cooks may begin worshipping you as some foreign goddess of butter."
"They'll survive."
"They said the same thing about the burgers." piped up Matarys.
The room laughed.
Rose grinned and lifted her glass.
"Well, now they have pizza to worry about too."
That earned a groan from Maron and a cheer from half the children.
She found herself smiling as she looked around the table, watching everyone talk over one another in that familiar way families always seemed to. The sight tugged painfully at her heart because she knew how rare these moments were about to become. Tomorrow this room would be quieter. Tomorrow half the seats would be empty. Tomorrow these children she had somehow come to love as fiercely as if they had been her own would be riding south toward safety while the rest of them remained behind to face whatever was coming.
The realization settled heavily in her chest.
Perhaps that was why she suddenly knew exactly what she wanted to do.
Rose set her fork down.
"I have one more thing."
The reaction was immediate.
The children practically snapped toward her.
Several adults looked concerned.
Maekar looked suspicious.
"That tone never leads anywhere sensible," the prince informed the room.
Rose ignored him.
"I want to tell a story."
The effect was almost magical.
Egg nearly launched himself from his chair. Daella immediately scooted closer. Even the older children straightened with interest while the adults exchanged amused looks.
Beside her, Baelor smiled knowingly and shifted slightly so she could lean more comfortably against him.
"What story?" Daenora asked softly.
Rose considered them all for a moment before answering.
"It's called Homeward Bound."
The room settled.
Outside the windows, evening sunlight painted the sky in shades of gold and crimson while candles flickered gently throughout the hall. The atmosphere felt strangely perfect for what she wanted to say.
"It begins," Rose said softly, "with three animals who love their family very much."
The younger children immediately brightened.
"Two dogs and a cat."
"A cat?" Rhae asked.
"A very grumpy cat."
The little girl gasped dramatically.
Rose laughed.
"The oldest dog was named Shadow. He was wise and loyal and believed with every part of his heart that his purpose in life was protecting his family. Then there was Chance, a younger dog who meant well but spent most of his time getting into trouble."
Several eyes immediately turned toward Egg.
The prince looked offended.
"I am nothing like that."
The room erupted into laughter.
Rose reached over and patted his head before continuing.
"Then there was Sassy. The cat. Who believed everyone around her was an idiot."
Daenora immediately smiled.
Aelora covered a laugh.
Even Alys looked suspiciously entertained.
Rose settled more comfortably against Baelor and began telling the story properly, taking her time as she described the family, the animals and the circumstances that separated them. She painted pictures with her words, describing rolling fields, forests stretching beyond sight, rivers rushing through valleys, and three beloved companions slowly realizing that the people they loved were no longer with them.
As the story unfolded, the room grew quieter.
She told them about Shadow deciding that something was wrong.
About his certainty that his family needed him.
About his decision to begin a journey despite his age, despite the danger, despite not knowing where he was going.
She described Chance following because he could never abandon his friend.
Sassy following because, beneath all her complaints, she loved them both.
And then she told them about the journey.
The mountains.
The storms.
The rivers.
The injuries.
The moments when they became lost.
The moments when they became afraid.
The moments when they wanted to give up.
Rose watched the children's faces as she spoke, watched them become completely absorbed by the tale and felt her throat tighten because she knew they understood the story wasn't really about animals.
It was about family.
It was about separation.
Rose's voice had grown softer as the story progressed, the earlier laughter slowly giving way to complete silence as every child in the room became invested in Shadow's journey. Even Egg had stopped interrupting, which Rose privately considered a miracle worthy of documentation.
"When Chance and Sassy finally reached home," she continued, leaning comfortably against Baelor's side while her eyes moved over the faces gathered around her, "they expected Shadow to appear right behind them. After all, he always had before. Every river they crossed, every mountain they climbed, every terrible idea Chance managed to stumble into, Shadow had been there to pull them through it. He was older than both of them, wiser than both of them and for most of the journey he had been the one keeping them moving whenever they became frightened or tired."
Rose smiled sadly.
"But when they reached the final hill overlooking home, he wasn't there."
Several of the younger children frowned immediately.
She could practically see them willing the story toward a happier ending.
"At first Chance wasn't worried. He thought perhaps Shadow had simply fallen behind. So he waited. Then he looked back toward the hills. Then he waited some more. Every few moments he would turn around expecting to see that familiar golden shape coming over the ridge behind them."
Her voice softened further.
"But the hills stayed empty."
The room had grown completely still now.
"Meanwhile, back at the house, the family was celebrating. Their children couldn't believe Chance and Sassy had actually come home. They laughed. They cried. They hugged them. Everyone was overjoyed because they had spent weeks believing they would never see them again."
Rose paused for a moment before continuing.
"Everyone except the oldest boy."
Daella immediately leaned forward.
"Because he loved Shadow the most?"
Rose smiled.
"Because he knew Shadow had made a promise."
The little girl seemed satisfied with that answer.
"The boy kept looking toward the hills while everyone else celebrated. Every few moments his eyes would drift back toward the horizon because something inside him refused to give up hope. Shadow had promised he was coming home. Shadow always kept his promises."
Rose felt her own throat tighten slightly as she reached the part of the story she had always loved most.
"So while everyone else was distracted, the boy suddenly noticed something moving far away in the distance. At first it was nothing more than a tiny shape standing against the sky. Small enough that he wasn't even certain it was real."
She smiled.
"He squinted. Rubbed his eyes. Looked again."
Several children smiled knowingly.
"And then suddenly he recognized it."
Rose laughed softly.
"The boy didn't walk. He didn't even run at first. He simply pointed at the hill and started shouting as loud as he possibly could. 'Shadow! Shadow!'"
The younger children immediately grinned.
"He took off running before anyone else understood what he had seen. Across the yard. Across the field. Straight toward that hill while everyone behind him tried to figure out what was happening."
Rose could see the scene perfectly in her mind.
"And then they saw him too."
Her voice had become almost a whisper.
"Old. Tired. Limping. Covered in dirt after crossing half a wilderness simply because he had promised he would come home."
Across the table, Alys was already wiping discreetly at her eyes.
Rose wasn't doing much better.
"The boy reached him first and wrapped both arms around his neck so tightly that he nearly knocked them both over. He was crying. Laughing. Talking so fast nobody could understand half of what he was saying. The only words anyone clearly heard were, 'You made it. You came back.'"
She smiled through the emotion building in her chest.
"And Shadow didn't answer because, well, he was a dog."
That earned a small laugh.
"But he didn't need to answer."
Rose looked slowly around the room.
At Valarr.
At Matarys.
At Kiera.
At Daella and Rhae.
At Daenora, Aelor and Aelora.
At Egg.
At Aerion, Daeron and Aemon.
At all of them.
"Because sometimes the journey itself is the answer. Sometimes loving someone means crossing every mountain between you and them simply because you cannot imagine giving up. And sometimes," she said softly, her voice growing gentler with every word, "coming home isn't about where you are. It's about who is waiting for you when you get there."
For a moment she simply sat there, one hand resting atop Baelor's while emotion settled heavily across the room.
"That's why I wanted to tell you that story tonight," she continued. "Because tomorrow all of you are leaving, and I know some of you are frightened, and some of you are sad and if I'm being completely honest, so am I. But no matter how far away Dorne feels, no matter how many weeks or months pass before we see one another again, you're family. Families find their way back to one another."
Her eyes glistened.
"And I promise you this. We will do everything in our power to make sure you come home again."
When Rose finally finished speaking, silence settled over the room.
Not uncomfortable silence.
Emotional silence.
The kind that settled after something important had been said.
Several children were already blinking rapidly.
Rose smiled through her own tears.
"I love every one of you."
There it was.
The truth.
Simple.
Terrifying.
Absolutely undeniable.
"I love being part of your lives. I love your questions, your chaos, your endless ability to destroy kitchens and then look innocent afterward. I love hearing your stories. I love teaching you things. I love watching you become the people you're meant to be."
Now she was definitely crying.
Across the table Alys and Aelinor was crying too.
Queen Myriah was dabbing at her eyes.
Even Prince Maron looked suspiciously emotional.
The first one moved before she'd even finished speaking.
Daella.
Then Rhae.
Then Egg.
Then everyone else.
Rose barely had time to gasp before an avalanche of children crashed into her from every direction, sending her backward onto the cushions while arms wrapped around her neck, shoulders, waist and anywhere else they could reach.
Someone was crying.
Someone was laughing.
Someone was accidentally sitting on her leg.
Matarys was hugging hard enough to crack ribs.
Valarr was attempting to rescue her while also participating in the hug.
Even Kiera had joined the pile.
And for one beautiful, chaotic moment, Rose found herself trapped beneath the overwhelming weight of the family she had never expected to find.
Honestly, she had never felt more loved in her life.
Baelor's POV
The docks of King's Landing had never felt so crowded and so empty at the same time.
Ships, sailors, servants, guards, trunks, crates, horses, provisions and enough supplies to sustain a small castle filled the harbor with activity from one end to the other, yet all Baelor could truly see were the children. Everywhere he looked there seemed to be another silver head moving through the morning crowd, another member of his family saying goodbye, another embrace lingering a little longer than usual because everyone understood what this departure truly meant.
The sky above Blackwater Bay had only just begun to brighten, pale streaks of gold and pink reflecting across the water while gulls wheeled overhead. It should have been a beautiful morning.
Instead it felt like the beginning of a siege.
Not one fought with swords.
One fought with distance.
With uncertainty.
With fear.
Baelor stood near the gangplank with Valarr, Matarys and Kiera while the rest of the family moved about the docks exchanging final embraces and last minute instructions. Nearby, Prince Maron was speaking with his captains while Princess Daenerys supervised the loading of the final trunks. Rhaegal and Alys were already preparing to board, their children clustered around them, while Maekar somehow managed to look simultaneously irritated, emotional and exhausted all at once.
His brother would accompany them to Dorne, help settle everyone into Sunspear and then return alone.
The thought made Baelor's chest tighten.
For a moment he simply looked at his sons.
Really looked at them.
Valarr had grown another inch since winter, or at least it felt that way. There was a steadiness to him now that reminded Baelor painfully of himself at the same age, a quiet sense of responsibility that seemed to grow stronger with every passing moon. Matarys remained easier to read, every emotion still visible on his face despite his increasingly determined attempts to hide them.
His boys.
Gods.
His boys.
There were moments when he wished Rose had never told him about the other timeline.
Then there were moments like this.
Moments where he looked at them and remembered the graves.
Remembered the stories.
Remembered the future that should have happened.
A future where both of them died.
The memory settled in his chest like ice.
Even now, months after first hearing it, he could not think of it for long without feeling physically ill.
Perhaps that was the curse of being a father. Once someone told you your child could die, your mind became remarkably talented at imagining it.
Not this time.
Never this time.
He would burn the Seven Kingdoms to the ground before he allowed that future to claim them.
"You will listen to Prince Maron," he said eventually, his voice calm despite the thoughts moving through his mind. "You will listen to Princess Daenerys. You will listen to your uncle Rhaegal and your aunt Alys. Most importantly, you will remember that you represent this family while you are in Dorne."
Valarr nodded immediately.
Matarys nodded a second later, though with considerably less enthusiasm.
Baelor narrowed his eyes.
"No climbing cliffs."
Matarys looked offended.
"No sneaking out."
"I wasn't..."
"No."
"But..."
"No."
Valarr immediately looked away to hide a smile while Kiera outright laughed.
Baelor remained unmoved.
"You are not immortal."
Matarys sighed dramatically.
"I know."
"Good."
"No dangerous adventures."
"Good."
"No convincing Egg to help with dangerous adventures."
At that, Matarys had the decency to look guilty.
Kiera snorted.
Valarr lost the battle and laughed.
Even Baelor felt the corner of his mouth twitch.
Gods he was going to miss them.
The realization struck harder than expected.
Not because they would be gone forever.
Because they wouldn't.
Rose would personally drag them home herself if necessary.
No, what hurt was the simple fact that this was the first time he would willingly send them beyond his protection.
Every instinct he possessed demanded he keep them close.
Every instinct screamed that fathers were meant to protect their children.
Yet protecting them now meant letting them go.
And that was infinitely harder.
His attention drifted across the docks.
Immediately he found Rose.
He always found Rose.
The sight of her nearly undid him.
She was crying again.
Not delicate tears.
Not graceful tears.
Rose was openly weeping her way through half the royal family while simultaneously hugging every child within reach. At the moment she had somehow collected Daella, Rhae, Daenora and Aelora into her arms all at once while attempting to reassure them through tears she was clearly incapable of stopping herself.
Baelor loved her so much it physically hurt.
Months ago she had been a stranger from another world.
Now half the children looked at her the way they looked at their own parents.
Perhaps even worse.
Because Rose loved with her entire heart.
There was never anything restrained about it.
Eventually she escaped the growing cluster of emotional goodbyes and made her way toward them.
The moment Matarys saw her approaching, something changed.
The boy who had spent all morning pretending he was perfectly fine suddenly looked his age.
Before Baelor could say a word, Matarys crossed the distance between them and wrapped himself around Rose.
She caught him immediately.
Of course she did.
One arm around his shoulders.
One hand smoothing through his hair.
No questions.
No teasing.
Just comfort.
Baelor watched them quietly while Rose bent her head and whispered something only Matarys was meant to hear.
Whatever it was made the boy nod.
Then nod again.
Then hold on tighter.
And gods help him, Baelor suddenly found himself very grateful that Rose had entered their lives.
Because there were some wounds fathers could not soothe.
Some fears children found easier to share with mothers.
Or mamas.
Eventually Matarys stepped back.
Valarr lasted approximately ten seconds longer before he surrendered as well.
When Rose wrapped her arms around his oldest son, Baelor saw something soften in Valarr's expression that the boy rarely allowed others to witness.
"I'll look after them," Valarr promised quietly.
Rose smiled through fresh tears.
"I know you will."
The boy hesitated.
Then hugged her tighter.
"Don't worry, Mama."
Baelor felt the entire world stop for a moment.
Because there it was again.
Mama.
Chosen freely.
Chosen deliberately.
Chosen with love.
Rose immediately broke.
Completely.
The poor woman started crying so hard that Valarr looked vaguely alarmed by the strength of the reaction.
Baelor, meanwhile, felt suspiciously emotional himself.
His sons loved her.
His wife loved his sons.
And somehow, despite everything they had survived, despite sickness and timelines and fate itself trying to tear pieces from them, they had found this.
A family.
A real one.
Not perfect.
Not simple.
But real.
And as he watched Rose pull Valarr into another fierce embrace while trying unsuccessfully to stop crying, Baelor decided he would spend the rest of his life protecting it.