The moonlit colonnades of Sunspear stretched long and quiet as Rhaego walked beside Arianne. He kept his posture straight, trying to look composed even though his heart was beating faster than he liked.
Arianne walked with the easy grace of someone who knew every corridor of her home. She glanced sideways at him once or twice, her expression thoughtful but still guarded.
"You really cannot wait even a few more days?" she asked after a stretch of silence, her voice low so it wouldn't carry.
Rhaego kept his eyes forward, choosing his words carefully.
"I know it seems sudden," he said quietly.
"But every day I remain here feels like time I am stealing from my mother. She is fighting alone in Meereen. The city is unstable. I cannot simply sit in safety while she bears the weight of it all."
Arianne was quiet for a few steps. Then she gave a small, almost wry smile.
"You speak like someone who feels responsible for an entire realm," she said.
"Most boys your age would be happy to rest in the sun and let others worry about wars and alliances."
Rhaego offered a small smile in return.
"Like I said before, I'm not most boys," he replied simply. "And I've seen what happens when people wait too long."
Arianne studied him from the corner of her eye, clearly weighing his answer. She didn't push further, but he could tell she was still surprised by how determined he sounded after only a week in Dorne.
They turned a corner and the corridor opened into a wider hallway leading to Doran's private solar. Two guards stood at the heavy doors, their spears upright but their eyes alert.
They recognized Arianne immediately and bowed their heads, but they still glanced curiously at Rhaego.
Arianne raised a hand before either guard could speak.
"Prince Rhaego wishes to speak with my father," she said calmly. "It is important."
The guards exchanged a brief look, but they did not argue. One of them knocked softly on the door, then opened it just enough to announce them.
"Princess Arianne and Prince Rhaego, my prince"
From inside, Doran's calm voice answered.
"Let them enter."
The guards stepped aside.
Arianne gave Rhaego one last meaningful look before they stepped through the doorway.
"Remember," she murmured under her breath, "be careful with your words. My father listens to everything."
Rhaego nodded once, tension coiling in his chest as they entered the dimly lit solar.
Prince Doran Martell sat at his low table, surrounded by letters and maps, a single lamp burning beside him. He looked up as they approached, his expression calm but his eyes sharp and fully awake, as though he had been expecting visitors even at this hour.
"Prince Rhaego," Doran said mildly, setting down the letter in his hand. "And my daughter. To what do I owe this midnight visit?"
Arianne remained silent, letting Rhaego speak first, though she stayed close enough that her presence felt like quiet support.
Rhaego took a slow breath, forcing his tail to stay still.
"My Prince," he began respectfully, "I apologize for disturbing you so late. But I could not sleep. I… need to speak with you about leaving Dorne."
Doran's fingers rested lightly on the arm of his chair. He studied Rhaego for a long, silent moment, the lamplight casting shadows across his face.
"Leaving Dorne," he repeated, voice even. "So soon?"
Rhaego kept his posture straight and his tone respectful, though his tail twitched once before he forced it still.
"Yes, my prince," he said.
"I know it must seem sudden. I have only been here a short time, and you have shown me great kindness and hospitality. But every day I remain here feels like time stolen from my mother. She is fighting alone in Meereen. The city is unstable. I cannot simply rest in safety while she bears that burden."
Doran was quiet for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He leaned back slightly in his chair, the movement slow and deliberate.
"You speak with the urgency of someone who feels responsible for far more than his own life," Doran said finally.
"That is… unusual for one so young. Tell me, Prince Rhaego… What exactly do you hope to achieve by leaving Dorne so quickly? Do you intend to return to Meereen alone? Or do you have something else in mind?"
Rhaego hesitated, choosing his next words with care.
He could not mention the Reach or the Tyrells yet, not without sounding like he was already making plans behind Doran's back, or a kind of lie he did the same way with his mother about a dream.
"I want to find a way to support her," he said honestly.
"Whether that means returning to Meereen or finding allies who can help her cause. I know I cannot do either while remaining here indefinitely. I am grateful for your protection, but I cannot stay idle."
Arianne remained silent beside him, but Rhaego could feel her watching both of them closely.
Doran's fingers tapped once against the arm of his chair a small, almost imperceptible movement.
"You are still recovering," he said mildly.
"You washed ashore barely a week ago. The journey across the sea nearly killed you once already. And yet you wish to leave again so soon."
He paused, then added, his voice calm but pointed.
"Dorne has opened its doors to you. My brother speaks highly of you in his letters. I have no intention of holding you prisoner… but I also have no intention of sending you out into Westeros unprepared, especially when your very existence could shift the balance of power in ways that many houses would find… threatening."
Rhaego met Doran's gaze steadily.
"I understand the risk," he said.
"But waiting here while my mother fights alone feels like a greater risk. I am not asking to leave in secret. I am asking for your guidance… and perhaps your permission."
Doran studied him for another long moment, the silence stretching between them.
Then the Prince of Dorne gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
"Very well," Doran said.
"We will speak plainly, then. But not tonight. Dawn is only a few hours away. Rest for what remains of it. Tomorrow, after the morning meal, we will talk properly… you, I, and my daughter. There are things that must be discussed before any decisions about leaving Dorne are made."
He glanced at Arianne.
"See that our guest returns safely to his chambers," Doran said. "And make sure he is not disturbed until morning."
Arianne bowed her head slightly.
"Yes, Father."
As they turned to leave, Doran's voice followed them softly.
"Prince Rhaego."
Rhaego paused at the doorway.
Doran's eyes were sharp in the lamplight.
"Patience has served Dorne well for many years," he said. "Do not underestimate its value… even for a dragon."
Rhaego inclined his head respectfully.
"I will remember that, my prince."
He and Arianne stepped out into the corridor. The heavy doors closed behind them with a quiet thud.
Arianne walked beside him in silence for a few steps before she spoke, her voice low.
"You surprised him," she murmured.
"My father does not often look surprised."
Rhaego gave a small, tired smile. "I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing."
Arianne glanced at him, a faint spark of amusement in her eyes.
"Knowing my father… it is both."
They continued walking side by side through the moonlit colonnade, the soft glow of lanterns casting long shadows on the stone walls. The night air was cool and carried the distant sound of fountains from the Water Gardens.
Rhaego was quiet for a few steps, but the image of the white-cloaked knight kept returning to his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that the man might be important, someone he should at least know about just in case.
He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Princess… that knight in white," he asked carefully, keeping his voice low.
"The one you were speaking with earlier in the gardens. Who is he? He wore the cloak of the Kingsguard. Is he… someone I should know?"
Arianne glanced sideways at him, her expression shifting from amusement to something more guarded.
"His name is Ser Arys Oakheart," she said after a moment.
"He is Myrcella Baratheon's sworn shield sent here from King's Landing to protect her. He has been in Sunspear for some time now."
She paused, then added with careful neutrality:
"He is… a good man. Honorable. But his presence here has become… complicated. The Lannisters still believe they control the throne. My father allows him to stay because it serves a purpose, for now."
Rhaego swallowed the information, nodding slowly.
Ser Arys Oakheart… he thought, mentally flipping through the messy mental filing cabinet of half remembered plot points.
Yes, yes…
….I still have no idea who that man is.
Wait, is he the one who—? No, that was someone else. Or was it? Gods, why is Westerosi naming convention so confusing?
The name didn't ring any immediate bells.
He knew about Myrcella Baratheon being here, but the presence of him was entirely new. He still felt a little lost, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
"I see," he said, though his voice carried a hint of confusion.
"I didn't mean to interrupt something personal. I truly thought there might be trouble."
Arianne gave a small, almost tired smile.
"You are surprisingly considerate for someone who claims he is still learning how to be a prince." She glanced at him again, her tone softening just a fraction. "Most men would have kept walking… or listened longer."
Rhaego rubbed the back of his neck, ears warming under his scales.
"I try not to make enemies on my first week in a new place," he said, attempting a light tone. "Especially not with someone wearing a white cloak."
Arianne let out a quiet laugh short, but genuine.
"Wise," she said.
"Though in Dorne, white cloaks do not carry quite the same weight as they do in King's Landing."
They reached the entrance to the Sea Tower. The guards nodded respectfully as they passed, but neither spoke.
As they walked the final stretch toward Rhaego's chambers, Arianne slowed her steps slightly.
"Tomorrow will be important," she said, more seriously now.
"My father does not grant midnight audiences lightly. Whatever you wish to ask him… be clear, but not hasty. He values patience above almost everything else."
Rhaego nodded, tail shifting once beneath the cloth.
"I'll remember that," he said.
"Thank you again… for bringing me to him. I know it wasn't a small thing to do in the middle of the night."
Arianne stopped just outside his door.
For a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something more, perhaps tease him, or ask why he was so determined to leave so soon but she held it back.
Instead, she gave him a small, measured smile.
"Get some rest, Prince Rhaego. You will need it."
She turned to leave, but paused after a few steps.
"And try not to wander the gardens alone at night," she added over her shoulder, a hint of amusement returning to her voice. "You never know what you might overhear."
Rhaego watched her go until her figure disappeared around the corner. Only then did he let out a long, tired breath and push open the door to his chamber.
The room was exactly as he had left it, the candle still burning low on the desk, the parchment with his messy notes waiting in silence.
He closed the door behind him, leaned against it for a moment, and stared at the ceiling.
One week, he thought.
And everything already feels like it's moving too fast.
He crossed to the desk, blew out the candle, and lay back down on the bed. Sleep still felt far away.
But at least now he had taken the first step.