The handmaiden led them through a labyrinth of servant corridors and shaded garden paths, moving with quiet efficiency. The air grew sweeter with every step, thick with the perfume of roses, myrtle, and blooming honeysuckle.
They passed no one of importance, only a few silent servants who quickly averted their eyes.
Finally, the woman stopped before a secluded corner of the inner gardens, enclosed by high hedges and a low stone wall. A single table had been set beneath a flowering arbor, with two chairs waiting.
"Wait here," the handmaiden said softly. "She will come when she is ready."
She bowed and disappeared back into the greenery.
Arianne and Rhaego stood in silence. Rhaego kept his hood up and his shoulders slightly hunched, trying to look smaller than he was.
His tail was bound tight beneath his tunic, but Arianne could still see the faint tension in his stance.
After a few minutes, the rustle of silk announced her arrival.
Lady Olenna Tyrell entered the garden like she owned every petal and thorn within it. She was smaller than Arianne remembered, but her presence filled the space.
Her sharp eyes flicked over the odd pair, the hooded young woman and the tall, broad-shouldered man standing protectively behind her.
Olenna settled into her chair with a faint grimace, waving away the handmaiden who tried to help her.
"So," she said without preamble, her voice dry as old parchment, "Prince Doran sends me a message about a 'certain alliance.' And instead of his son, he sends his daughter… and a very large mute."
Arianne stepped forward and offered a graceful curtsy, her voice polite but steady.
"Lady Olenna. It is an honor. I am Arianne Martell, heir to Sunspear. This is my companion. We come on behalf of Dorne… and someone far greater."
Olenna's eyes narrowed. She studied Arianne for a long moment, then shifted her gaze to the silent figure behind her.
"Sit," she ordered. "Both of you. I dislike craning my neck."
They obeyed. Rhaego remained slightly behind Arianne, standing like a guard rather than sitting. Olenna noticed.
"You don't speak much, do you?" she said to him. "Or is that part of the disguise?"
Rhaego stayed silent. Arianne answered for him.
"He speaks when necessary, my lady. For now, I will speak for both of us."
Olenna gave a short, humorless laugh.
"How convenient. Doran sends word of an alliance, yet here you are, sneaking in through the servants gate with a passphrase meant for your brother. Tell me, Princess, does your father know you've decided to improve upon his plans?"
Arianne kept her expression calm.
"My father considered many paths. This one… we chose together."
Olenna leaned forward slightly, her eyes sharp as thorns.
"Spare me the pretty lies. I know my grandchildren are trapped in King's Landing, playing games with that grotesque High Sparrow and his fanatics. Margaery is clever, but even she cannot dance forever with the Faith breathing down her neck. She sent me away to safety. Now I sit here wondering how to get her back without burning the realm down in the process."
Her voice hardened.
"So speak plainly, girl. What exactly does Dorne and this mysterious 'someone far greater' offer that could possibly be worth the risk of crossing the Lannisters and the Faith?"
Arianne met the old woman's gaze without flinching.
"We offer more than swords or grain, my lady. We offer a future. A real one. Not just survival… but victory."
Olenna's lips thinned into a thin, humorless line.
"Victory," she echoed, her voice dripping with dry contempt. "How original. I've heard that word from better mouths than yours, princess. Most of them are now feeding the worms"
Arianne smiled faintly.
"The alliance we offer is not merely between sun and roses, my lady," she said, her voice calm and measured.
"It comes with fire and blood. The silver queen herself stands with us… Daenerys Stormborn, the Mother of Dragons. When she turns her eyes west, she will not come alone. She will come with dragons at her back… and with allies who have already proven their loyalty."
Olenna Tyrell listened in silence, her sharp eyes never leaving Arianne's face. After a moment, she waved one wrinkled hand dismissively, as if brushing away smoke.
"Pretty words," she said dryly.
"I've heard plenty of those in my life. Most of them ended with someone's head on a spike. You speak of this 'silver queen' as if she were already here. If she is truly offering an alliance, where is she? Should the Mother of Dragons not be sitting at this table herself?"
Arianne smiled faintly, unruffled.
"She cannot be here yet, my lady. Meereen still demands her attention. But she has already sent her voice ahead."
Olenna's brows rose, her tone turning sharper.
"Her voice? A princess and a tall mute? Forgive me if I find that rather thin. I have grandchildren trapped in King's Landing with fanatics breathing down their necks. I don't have time for riddles or distant promises."
Arianne's smile deepened, just a touch.
"Then allow me to make it clearer."
She turned slightly toward Rhaego and gave him a small nod.
Rhaego stepped forward and slowly lowered his hood.
Silver white hair spilled free, catching the dappled sunlight. His violet eyes met Lady Olenna's directly.
Olenna Tyrell went very still.
For the first time since they had entered the garden, the Queen of Thorns looked genuinely surprised. Her sharp eyes widened, flicking rapidly over the boy's features, the impossible silver hair, the unmistakable purple eyes, the regal bone structure that screamed Valyrian blood.
She leaned forward slightly, her voice quieter than before.
"White hair… violet eyes…" she murmured, almost to herself. "Gods be good. You're not some bastard or some mummer's trick, are you?"
Arianne spoke before Olenna could finish the thought.
"No mummer's trick, my lady, the silver queen's own son is standing before you."
Olenna's gaze snapped to Arianne, then back to the boy.
"A Targaryen," she breathed, the word heavy with disbelief and calculation. "You brought a Targaryen into my garden."
Arianne's voice was soft but clear:
"Lady Olenna Tyrell… allow me to introduce Prince Rhaego Targaryen, son of Daenerys Stormborn, the silver queen's own blood and heir."
Rhaego stepped forward and offered a respectful bow, not too deep, not too shallow exactly as a prince should.
"It is an honor to meet you, Lady Olenna," he said, his voice calm but carrying the faint echo of command. "I have heard much of the Queen of Thorns."
Olenna stared at him for a long, heavy moment.
Her fingers had stopped tapping. The usual sharp wit in her eyes was momentarily replaced by raw assessment weighing, calculating, measuring the boy in front of her as if he were a blade she wasn't sure she should draw.
Finally, she let out a slow breath and leaned back in her chair.
"Sit down properly, boy," she said, her tone suddenly less hostile and more commanding. "If we're going to talk treason and dragons, you might as well do it without looming over me like a statue."
Rhaego glanced at Arianne, then slowly took the seat beside her.
Olenna's eyes never left him.
"I'll grant you this much, the boy looks the part. Silver hair, violet eyes, and Doran's own passphrase got you through my gates. So I won't call you liars. Not yet."
Her gaze flicked back to Arianne, sharp once more.
"And you expect me to believe that Doran Martell offers me an alliance? After everything that's happened? After the Lannisters have my granddaughter locked away with that fanatical High Sparrow?"
Arianne met the old woman's gaze without flinching.
"We offer a future. A real one. Fire and blood at the side of the Reach. If we succeed, your grandchildren will be safe. The Reach will no longer bow to the Lannisters, it will stand as an equal beside the dragon."
Olenna stared at Rhaego again, her expression unreadable.
"Tell me, Prince Rhaego," she said, voice soft but cutting, "does your mother know you're here… making deals with vipers and roses?"
Rhaego met her gaze steadily.
"My mother is still securing her rule in Meereen," he answered calmly. "I'm here to prepare the ground before she turns her eyes this way. I came to Dorne first. Prince Doran listened. Princess Arianne chose to come with me."
He paused, then added with quiet conviction:
"We are here to offer you more than words, Lady Olenna. We offer a real path to free your grandchildren and to restore the Reach to its proper strength."
Olenna's lips thinned.
"Bold claims from a boy with a pretty face. How exactly do you plan to 'free' Margaery and Loras? Charge into the sept and snatch them from the High Sparrow's grasp? The Faith has eyes everywhere."
Rhaego didn't hesitate.
"I can fly there and save them," he said plainly.
Olenna blinked, momentarily thrown.
"…Fly?" she repeated, confusion flickering across her face.
Arianne shot Rhaego a sharp, startled look, clearly surprised he was revealing so much so quickly.
Rhaego gave her a small, reassuring glance before turning back to Olenna.
"There is no point hiding my greatest value if we are to form a true alliance," he said simply. "If you are to trust us, you should know exactly what you are allying with."
Olenna's brows rose slightly, her usual sharp wit momentarily replaced by wary curiosity.
"Whatever it is, boy, I won't be frightened," she said dryly. "I'm an old woman. I've seen more horrors, wonders, and fools in my lifetime than you can imagine. So go on… show me this great secret of yours."
Rhaego smiled awkwardly, almost apologetically.
"Well… you haven't seen this, my lady."
He stood slowly and carefully unwrapped the long strip of cloth bound around his waist. With a quiet rustle, a long, powerful, scaled tail uncoiled behind him, dark charcoal at the base, fading into deep crimson and gold toward the tip.
Olenna's eyes widened.
Rhaego didn't stop there.
He reached down, pulled his tunic over his head, and revealed the scaled pattern that covered parts of his torso and shoulders. He rolled his shoulders once… and then, with a powerful snap like canvas catching wind, his wings unfolded behind him.
They were massive.
Olenna Tyrell sat frozen in her chair for several long heartbeats. The Queen of Thorns, a woman who had faced down kings, outlived most of her enemies, and survived more political storms than most men could count, simply stared.
Then she let out a slow breath and leaned back.
"Well," she said at last, her voice quieter than usual but still carrying that unmistakable edge. "The rumors from the east weren't complete nonsense after all."
She let out a slow, dry breath, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied the boy in front of her.
"Either I've grown very old… or the world has grown very strange. And yet here you are. Silver hair, violet eyes, and wings"
She leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowing with renewed sharpness.
"Very well. You've shown me the spectacle. Now show me the substance. My granddaughter sits in a cell because she played the game too well. How do wings and silver hair change that?"
Rhaego spoke, his voice steady.
"My lady, I can free your grandchildren without burning the realm to the ground. I can take them from the sept if needed."
Olenna's lips curved into a thin, skeptical smile.
"Bold. Very bold," she said dryly.
"I do like bold. But I also like results that don't end with my family dead. You say you can fly to King's Landing and snatch Margaery and Loras from the sept? Just like that? You'll be spotted before you clear the city walls, boy."
Rhaego smiled, small and confident.
"There is more to me than just flying, my lady."
Olenna studied him for a long moment, her sharp eyes narrowing further.
"Prove it," she said flatly.
"Because right now all I see is a boy with pretty wings and even prettier promises. If you want me to risk my house on this alliance, you had better convince me it's worth taking. Keep your word about saving my grandchildren, and perhaps…. perhaps this alliance will be worth the risk."
Rhaego held her gaze, his voice calm but confident.
"I can reach King's Landing faster than any raven," Rhaego said. "Faster than any army you could send."
His voice stayed calm, but there was something harder beneath it now.
"And who's going to look up and see an enemy in the sky? The last thing they would expect is a boy with wings. They'll mistake me for a bird, if they notice me at all."
Olenna's eyes narrowed. "Or they do," she said dryly, "and you end up with a hundred arrows in your chest before you ever reach the Sept."
Rhaego didn't flinch.
"Then I won't be seen," he said simply. "I don't need an army. I just need to know where they are."
Arianne leaned forward slightly, her voice smooth as silk.
"And that, my lady, is where you come in."
Olenna's gaze flicked to her.
"You have eyes in King's Landing," Arianne continued "Servants. Guards. Whisperers, inside the city. Together, we bring your family home safely."
Olenna leaned back, tapping one finger against the armrest as she considered his words. A faint, almost predatory smile touched her lips.
"Together," she echoed, tasting the word. "How charming. You make it sound so simple."
She waved a hand dismissively, though her eyes remained sharp.
"Still… it's the first thing you've said that doesn't sound like complete foolishness. Very well. I'll play along for now. But understand this, boy… if you fail, if my grandchildren are hurt because of your 'great plan', I won't just blame the dragon. I'll blame the viper who brought him to my gardens."
She glanced at Arianne, her smile turning thin and dangerous.
"And I have a very long memory when it comes to vipers."
Arianne met her gaze evenly.
"Then we won't fail, my lady."