Dont forget to Vote and Review if you like story...
your comment make me motivate posting here
read full story in patreon : CaveLeather
Mace and Alerie had arrived at Casterly Rock days early once word reached them that their daughter was close to labor. The maester and midwife had given her another week, but everyone knew better. Babies didn't care about schedules. It could happen tonight, at dawn, over dinner, or right in the middle of a conversation.
Margaery—the Highgarden Rose who had once put the Hand of the King under house arrest and now ruled Casterly Rock—had become the most protected woman in the Westerlands. Guards shadowed her every step. Maesters checked on her constantly. Even the mountain clansmen who had sworn to Jon treated her like living glass.
When she saw her parents walk through the gates, every wall she'd built cracked. She ran straight into her mother's arms and sobbed like a girl again. Not because anything was wrong, but because after months of carrying the weight of the entire West on her shoulders, seeing Alerie's face finally let her breathe.
Mace watched his daughter cry and felt his blood boil. "That boy finishes one war and immediately runs off to Winterfell? Is he afraid he'll melt if he stays in one place too long?"
"Father," Margaery said, wiping her eyes but still smiling, "the Iron Islands are short on people. Jon needs to move the free folk there. It helps the islands and it helps the North. It's the right move."
Mace took her hand and noticed how much thicker her wrist had become. He squeezed it gently. "You're always defending him. Seven hells, that boy's been blessed by the gods themselves."
Margaery didn't answer. She just remembered the promise she and Jon had made in that garden in King's Landing: they would raise each other up. He had taken the Westerlands and now the Iron Islands for her. In three years, the Sunset Sea would belong to them. She believed it.
Alerie set a bowl of chicken soup in front of her daughter—red dates floating on top, just the way Jon had written down before he left. Margaery took a sip and felt some of the exhaustion ease.
They were still talking when Maester Thomp entered the solar.
"My lord, my ladies. Davos Seaworth has arrived from King's Landing. With him is the red priestess, Melisandre."
Mace's face darkened immediately. He had no love for Stannis, and even less for the man's pet priestess. Alerie shot him a warning look. "Be polite. They're here to congratulate us."
Mace grumbled but agreed to hold his tongue.
Davos entered first, looking uncomfortable in his fine clothes. Melisandre followed, red robes whispering against the stone. Davos's eyes went straight to Margaery's swollen belly. Seven sons had taught him how to read a pregnant woman. He was almost certain it was a boy.
"May the gods bless you with a strong, healthy child, my lady," Davos said, forcing a warm smile.
He gestured and his men brought forward Stannis's gifts—fine cloth, a carved cradle, a chest of gold. Margaery accepted them with perfect grace, but her attention stayed on Melisandre.
The red priestess hadn't said a word. She simply stared at Margaery's belly with those unsettling red eyes. Margaery's hand moved instinctively to cover it. Mace frowned.
After a long, uncomfortable silence, Melisandre finally spoke.
"A healthy boy."
Margaery and her parents exchanged glances. They thanked her, though none of them knew how she could be so certain.
Once the pleasantries were done, Davos took the seat Margaery offered him. He looked like a man about to deliver bad news and hating every second of it.
"My lady, Lord Mace… His Grace sends his congratulations. He also hopes that once the child is born, Lord Jon will come to King's Landing to serve at his side."
Mace exploded before Davos could finish.
"What? The boy's wife is about to give birth and Stannis wants to drag him across the realm? I thought Stannis was supposed to be nothing like Robert, but here we are again—ripping fathers away from their families the moment a child draws breath. Aerys didn't even do that to Tywin when his twins were born! Does the Iron Throne have no one else left?"
Davos's face turned red. He tried to speak. "His Grace will provide the most comfortable residence in the city. Lady Margaery and the child could join him—"
"Oh, spare me," Mace cut in. "King's Landing stinks. Casterly Rock has fresh air and the sound of the sea at night. My daughter's husband has bled enough for the crown. He's earned the right to stay with his family."
Margaery placed a calming hand on her father's arm. She knew Davos was just the messenger.
"Ser Davos, my father speaks from love. Jon has fought without rest since he left the Wall. The free folk still need settling on the Iron Islands. The last Ironborn strongholds need clearing. Casterly Rock is thin on trusted men. Until Jon returns, all of it falls on me. Please tell His Grace we are grateful for the invitation, but we must ask for a little more time."
Davos looked relieved to be given an out that didn't sound like outright rebellion.
They were still talking when Maester Thomp returned, out of breath.
"My lady—Margaery—Lord Jon has returned. He's riding through the gates now."
Margaery shot to her feet so fast Alerie gasped.
"Slow down!" her mother warned.
"I'm fine," Margaery said, already moving toward the door, one hand on her lower back.
She had only taken two steps when warmth flooded down her legs. She froze. The confident Lady of Casterly Rock who had ruled the West in her husband's absence suddenly looked like a frightened girl again.
"Mother… I… I think—"
"Seven hells!" Mace yelped, then immediately started waving his hands in front of his face like he could take the words back.
"Maester! Midwife! The lady's water just broke!"