They had flown for two nights and most of a day before Rhaego brought them down.
The Reach spread beneath them in soft green hills and endless fields of gold. Highgarden was still distant, but they were close enough that staying in the sky any longer would be foolish.
Even at night, a dragon could be seen by the wrong pair of eyes.
So they walked.
Rhaego had stolen a set of roughspun breeches and a faded brown tunic from a line near the Mander. His tail was coiled tightly around his waist and bound with strips of cloth.
From a distance he looked like a tall, slightly hunched laborer.
Arianne had refused to wear the mud-colored sack he had first brought her.
Instead, while Rhaego was scouting, Arianne had acquired a simple but clean dark green traveling dress and a hooded cloak from a merchant's wife. Gold and a carefully crafted tale of misfortune had changed hands. The woman had been left blushing and richer than she had been that morning.
It was still far beneath her usual standards, but at least it didn't smell like lye and despair.
She adjusted the cloak as they walked along a dusty track between two low hills, the fabric whispering against her legs.
Rhaego glanced at her sideways, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.
"You look… almost respectable," he said.
Arianne lifted her chin. "I look like a merchant's daughter who has seen better days. Which is still leagues above looking like a stable boy who lost a fight with his own tail."
Rhaego's tail twitched beneath the cloth at his waist, as if offended. "It was the best I could do on short notice."
"You stole laundry from a farmer," she said dryly. "I acquired proper clothing through negotiation. There is a difference."
Rhaego glanced down at his own ragged tunic and breeches, then at her relatively clean dark green dress and cloak.
He let out a low, self-deprecating huff.
"So I look like a runaway slave," he muttered, "and you look like a merchant's daughter who ran off with half the household silver. Did you at least bring me something better, or am I doomed to smell like wet wool and regret for the rest of this journey?"
Arianne tried to hold it in, but a soft giggle escaped her anyway. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Oh, poor dragon," she said, her voice warm and teasing.
"I did consider finding you something finer, but then I thought… Why ruin the illusion? A tall, brooding laborer with a suspicious lump around his waist is exactly the sort of man no one looks at twice. You're practically invisible."
She reached over and flicked the edge of his collar with one finger, a playful glint in her eye.
"Besides," she added, smirking, "if you looked too handsome, people might start asking questions. And we both know how well you lie."
Rhaego gave her a mock wounded look, though the corners of his mouth were twitching. "I lie perfectly well. You're the one who insists on smiling at people until they forget their own name."
Arianne's laugh was low and throaty this time. "Flattery will get you nowhere, my prince. But keep practicing. You may need it when we reach Highgarden."
They walked in companionable silence for a while, the sun warm on their backs. The road wound through fields where smallfolk bent over their labor. In the distance, smoke rose from a village.
The smell of fresh bread made Rhaego's stomach growl loudly.
Arianne raised an eyebrow. "Hungry already?"
"Flying burns energy," he muttered, ears turning faintly red.
"And I haven't eaten properly since Sunspear."
They stopped at the edge of the village. Arianne reached into the small pouch at her belt and pulled out a thin gold chain.
She broke off a small link and handed it to him.
"Use this," she said.
"But don't flash the whole thing. Tell them we're travelers heading north. Bread, cheese, sausage or whatever they have."
Rhaego took the gold, turning it over in his clawed fingers.
"You're paying with pure gold for bread?"
Arianne smiled, sharp and knowing.
"All my accessories are gold, dragon prince. In Dorne even our smallest trinkets could feed a family for a month. Here they'll think we're eccentric travelers who ran away from home. Let them."
Rhaego shook his head, half-amused, half-impressed.
"You Dornish are terrifying."
"We prefer 'resourceful.'"
He returned shortly with a cloth bundle: warm bread, hard cheese, dried sausage, and a skin of watered wine. They found a quiet spot beneath a stand of trees and sat to eat.
Arianne tore off a piece of bread and chewed thoughtfully, her mind returning to what she had overheard in her father's solar.
"Father told Quentyn the Tyrells are in a difficult position," she said. "Margaery is tangled with the Faith Militant. The Lannisters are unstable. Lady Olenna loves her grandchildren more than any throne. If we can offer them even the whisper of a better future… she might listen."
Rhaego looked at her, chewing slowly. "You think she would actually consider an alliance with us?"
Arianne gave a small, confident smile. "The Queen of thorns is practical above all else. Proud, but not stupid. A Dornish princess and a dragon prince arriving with a real offer of protection? That is very different from a cautious envoy from Sunspear. She may bargain hard, but she will listen."
Rhaego nodded, though doubt still lingered in his eyes.
"Then we head toward Highgarden," he said. "Carefully."
They finished eating and rose to continue walking. Arianne adjusted the green dress with a small grimace.
"I still hate this thing," she muttered.
Rhaego offered her a crooked smile. "You wear it better than I wear my tail as a belt."
Arianne glanced at him, then at the road ahead that would eventually lead them closer to Highgarden.
"Then let's hope Lady Olenna has a better tailor," she said.
"Because if we're going to offer the Tyrells a new future, we should at least look like we belong in one."
Rhaego gave a quiet laugh and fell into step beside her.
The road stretched on, both dusty, ordinary, and full of promise.
Behind them, Sunspear and Doran's careful patience grew smaller with every mile.
Ahead lay the Reach, the Tyrells, and whatever storm they would bring with them.
The sun beat down mercilessly.
Sweat trickled down Arianne's back beneath the wool. She hated it, the sticky feeling, the way the fabric clung. Princesses were not meant to sweat like common travelers.
Rhaego noticed her discomfort.
He scanned the road ahead and spotted a farmer's cart trundling toward them, loaded with sacks of grain and pulled by two sturdy mules.
"Wait here," he muttered.
He approached the driver, a weathered man with a broad straw hat and tried to look as harmless as a common person possibly could.
"Excuse me," Rhaego said politely.
"We're travelers heading north along the Mander river. Any chance we could ride in the back? We can pay."
The farmer took one look at Rhaego's ragged clothes, the suspicious lump around his waist, and the general air of 'runaway laborer who might steal your mules' and shook his head.
"Sorry, lad. Cart's full. Can't risk it."
Rhaego's shoulders slumped.
Before he could reply, Arianne stepped up behind him and tapped his shoulder lightly. She moved past him with effortless grace, hood lowered just enough to show her face.
"Forgive my companion," she said sweetly, her voice warm and melodic. "He's not used to asking nicely."
She held out a small piece of gold between two fingers, letting it catch the sunlight.
"We're only two. We won't trouble you. And this should more than cover the inconvenience."
The farmer's eyes widened at the gold. He glanced at Arianne's clean dress and composed bearing, then back at the coin.
"…Aye, m'lady. Climb on up. Just mind the sacks."
Arianne shot Rhaego a quick, triumphant smirk as she climbed into the back of the cart.
Rhaego followed, frowning in quiet defeat.
Of course, he thought bitterly.
Damn it… sometimes I wish I'd been born a woman.
He almost laughed at himself. Wait… I was once.
They settled among the grain sacks as the cart rumbled forward. The motion was bumpy but far better than walking under the hot sun. Arianne arranged her cloak neatly and leaned back with a small sigh of relief.
"See?" she said lightly. "Negotiation works wonders."
Rhaego crossed his arms, tail still tightly bound. "You bribed him."
"I persuaded him," she corrected, a playful glint in her eye. "There's a difference. You offered desperation. I offered value."
He huffed a quiet laugh. "Next time I'll just stand behind you and look menacing. Apparently that's my only talent today."
Arianne turned her head to look at him, her expression softening just a fraction.
"You're not menacing," she said.
"You're… distinctive. And right now, distinctiveness is dangerous. So let the merchant's daughter do the talking. You just focus on not letting your tail unravel and ruin the disguise."
Rhaego glanced down at the awkward bulge around his waist and sighed. "This is humiliating."
"Welcome to life on the road," she said dryly, tugging at the sleeve of her dress. "Though I must admit, I never imagined it would involve quite so much sweating and regrettable fabric choices."
Rhaego offered her a crooked smile.
They rode in silence for a while, the cart wheels creaking rhythmically. The sun warmed their faces, and the fields rolled past in waves of gold and green.