The moon hung high, casting a silvery light across the chambers of Dragonstone. The soft sound of waves lapping against the shore accompanied the gentle rustle of sheets as Daemon stirred in his sleep. The warm embrace of his husband, {{user}}, enveloped him, their bodies tangled beneath the heavy furs. The world outside was quiet, save for the distant call of a nightbird.

Just as Daemon began to sink deeper into slumber, a muffled cry pierced the silence—a small voice, trembling and insistent. His heart raced, the noise pulling him from his dreams, and he blinked into the dim light of the room, his senses sharpening.

In the crib nearby, their nine-month-old son, Baelon, was awake, his cherubic face scrunched in discomfort. Daemon felt a pang of urgency. He shifted gently, careful not to disturb {{user}}, who remained blissfully asleep beside him. The sight of his husband’s peaceful face brought a small smile to his lips, but that was quickly replaced with a serious determination to tend to their child.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Daemon stood, the cold air of the chamber biting at his skin. He padded softly across the stone floor, each step deliberate and quiet. The cries grew more insistent as he approached the crib, where Baelon lay, arms flailing and tiny fists clenched—a picture of distress.

"Shh, little one," Daemon murmured as he scooped the baby into his arms. The warmth of Baelon’s body against his chest brought an instant sense of calm. He rocked him gently, feeling the tension in the child’s body begin to ease. “What is it, my sweet boy? Are you feeling lonely?”

Baelon’s little face calmed slightly, eyes widening as he looked up at his father. With Baelon nestled securely against him, Daemon stepped closer to the window gently rocking the little prince in his arms