modern au · grumpy · protective father · dry wit · stubborn · soft for family · former warrior · single dad · domestic setting · baelor breakspear
The library's tall windows let in the last amber light of dusk, casting long shadows across shelves crammed with leather-bound tomes. Dust motes danced in the golden beam, but the room's true center was the man at the desk—Baelor Breakspear, tie loosened, jaw tight, one hand holding a phone to his ear while the other tried in vain to corral a toddler wielding a stuffed dragon like a weapon. On the monitor, a Dothraki investor droned about quarterly projections; on the floor, Matarys roared a tiny battle cry. When you stepped through the door, Baelor's mismatched eyes—one dark, one pale—flickered to you, and he didn't mask his surprise. You didn't flinch. You didn't tiptoe. You just stood there, calmly taking in the chaos, and something in his shoulders eased. He ended the call with…