The late afternoon sun painted the Water Gardens in shades of gold and rose. Rhaego walked beside Princess Arianne through shaded colonnades and along marble pathways lined with pools and fountains. The air slled of orange blossoms, myrrh, and warm stone.
Rhaego’s tail flicked nervously behind him, brushing against the soft grass edging the pools.
Arianne moved with effortless grace, but her dark eyes kept returning to him... she was curious, appraising and openly interested.
"This is the Water Gardens," Arianne said lightly, gesturing at the fountains that glimred in the late afternoon sun.
"Most visitors never see this side of Sunspear. It is quieter, safer... though still prone to surprises."
Rhaego’s eyes road, taking in the lush greenery and the gentle cascade of water over the tiered pools. For a mont, he allowed himself to feel sothing resembling peace.
"It’s... beautiful," he said. "I never imagined Dorne like this. I thought it would be all sand and sun, endless dunes."
Arianne tilted her head, studying him with open amusent.
"And yet, you survived the sea. You are not afraid of harsh lands or hot winds, are you?"
Rhaego hesitated, then shrugged. "I am a dragon. I adapt quickly."
She laughed, the sound low and lodic. "Half dragon, half... What else? Curiosity? Mischief?"
He gave a faint smile. "Perhaps both."
The two walked on, the water reflecting their images like twin shadows. Arrianne caught herself glancing at Rhaego more than once, noting the quiet confidence in his movents, the way he carried himself like soone used to commanding respect without demanding it.
She kept glancing at him with open curiosity, especially at the way his tail swayed behind him for balance.
"You’re staring," Rhaego said after a while, his voice a mix of amusent and nerves.
"Can you bla ?" Arianne replied, not even pretending to look away.
"We’ve had no dragons in Dorne for centuries. And none quite so... interesting as you."
Her eyes flicked to the small horns on his head. "Do they hurt when they grow?"
"Sotis," he admitted. "It feels like teeth pushing through gums, only on my skull."
He flexed his shoulders, the faint outline of retracted wings shifting beneath his skin.
"The wings are worse. They feel like they want to tear free every ti when I want to stretch my arms."
Arianne’s smile turned sly.
"Then you should spread them here. The gardens are private enough. No one will scream if a dragon suddenly takes flight..."
She leaned in slightly, voice dropping. "Though I might ask for a warning first. I’d hate to miss the show."
Rhaego stiffened slightly at her closeness.
They stopped beside a wide reflecting pool where colored fish darted beneath lily pads. Rhaego stared at his own reflection, violet eyes, sun-flushed skin, faint scales catching the light, and that unmistakable tail.
He still looked strange to himself.
"Tell ," she said, breaking the quiet, "how is it, flying over the world as you did? The sea, the cities, the sands? It must be... intoxicating."
Rhaego paused at the edge of a pool, letting his fingers trace the rippling water.
"It is," he admitted.
"But it is lonely. The wind carries no friends. The sky has no company but clouds. I have learned much... and I have been hunted just as much as I have flown."
Her eyes softened, though her curiosity never waned.
"And yet here you are, alive, on my father’s soil. I hope the son of the silver queen finds more allies than hunters in Dorne."
He smiled faintly, though his tail flicked with unease.
"I hope so too, Princess. I have no desire to test Dorne’s patience with fire... yet."
Arianne arched a brow. "Yet?"
He gave her a asured look, letting the weight of unspoken promise linger. "Dragons are not easily tad, nor their heirs. I am learning that... slowly."
They ca to a small terrace overlooking the Gardens, where water lilies floated among koi, and orange blossoms swayed in the breeze. The colors were vibrant, almost unreal in the fading sun.
"Do you see," Arianne said, "why my father values this place? It is calm, it is controlled... yet it is alive. A kingdom should be the sa. Controlled, yes... but alive."
Rhaego nodded, sensing the subtle lesson beneath her words.
"You speak wisely. And yet, Dorne... it has teeth, does it not? Hidden, subtle, waiting."
Arianne’s lips curved into a knowing, almost wicked smile.
"Perhaps. But the teeth are not always ant to bite the ones they greet."
He studied her, weighing her words. She was clever, sharp, and perceptive. There was no malice in her tone, yet no naïve sweetness either.
He could respect that. "You are not as I expected," he said quietly.
"Few are," she replied, stepping just a little closer. "Especially those who follow dragons into Dorne."
For a long mont they stood in silence, watching the water catch the last light of day. Then Arianne leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to sothing softer, more intimate.
"You must be careful here, my dragon prince. Even in Sunspear, not all eyes are friendly. Curiosity in Dorne can cut both ways."
"I am used to watching," he said smoothly. "And to being watched."
She nodded, satisfaction flickering across her features.
"Good. Perhaps by the ti the sun sets, you will know a little more of Sunspear... and I of you."
The words hung between them, charged with subtle challenge and curiosity alike. Rhaego felt a flicker of sothing unfamiliar, anticipation, perhaps, or caution.
He had escaped the seas, survived the harpies, and endured the winds of the world... but navigating Dorne would be a ga of minds, not fire.
"Shall we continue?" Arianne asked lightly, gesturing down a shaded path.
Rhaego straightened, tail brushing the marble floor.
"Lead the way, Princess."
As they walked through the gardens, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows and golden light over the pools and fountains.
They stopped beside a wide reflecting pool. Rhaego crouched near the edge, trailing his clawed fingers through the water. Silver fish darted between them, unafraid.
Arianne stood a step behind, silent, watching him more than the fish.
His long tail swayed lazily behind him, black-armored scales catching the light with every slow flick. The tip was particularly striking, a sharp, deadly point flanked by flexible spans of black and deep crimson mbrane, almost like a banner in miniature.
It moved with a mind of its own.
She let her gaze travel upward.
His Dornish clothing was loose and open in the heat, a light linen tunic hanging carelessly off one shoulder, from down his back.
Much of his skin was exposed to the air, smooth where it was still human, but interrupted by ridges of hard, dark scales that followed the line of his spine.
Sharp, pointed bones protruded slightly along his vertebrae, like the beginnings of sothing ancient and dangerous.
Further just below the shoulder blades, she could see the faint outline of hard ridges, folded bones and thick muscle beneath the skin, tucked tight against his body.
where wings lay beneath them.
How does sothing so massive hide inside such a slender fra? she wondered, a thrill running through her.
Can he truly fly? she thought, her mind picturing the massive wings he had ntioned, hidden beneath his slender, human-like fra.
How such strength could be contained in such a seemingly slender body was almost unbelievable.
Rhaego tilted his head slightly, as if sensing her stare. The tip of his tail gave one slow, deliberate curl.
"Enjoying the view, Princess?" he asked without turning around.
Arianne didn’t flinch. Instead, she smiled, slow and confident.
"Very much," she replied lightly. "You said you could fly. I was wondering how those wings manage to hide themselves so well."
Her eyes lingered on his bare shoulder and back. "It seems almost unfair... such power tucked away so neatly."
Rhaego pushed himself to his feet and turned to face her, his expression guarded but calm.
Up close, he was far more striking than she had first thought. Taller than expected, not yet a man grown, but no longer quite a boy. There was a quiet confidence in the way he carried himself, sothing that did not beg for attention, yet commanded it all the sa.
Arianne knew herself well.
She had always enjoyed handso n. But this... this was sothing different. Sothing wilder. Sothing that made her blood stir with curiosity and a hint of danger.
A faint thrill ran through her.
She found herself wondering, against her better judgnt.
What those dark scales would feel like beneath her fingertips. Cool and hard like polished obsidian, or warm as living flesh? And more dangerously, what would happen if that rigid control of his ever cracked.
Arianne Martell knew better than to trust in pretty appearances.
But gods... she was curious.
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