Somewhere far from King's landing, the sun stood high above the Reach. The city of kings and septons was now nothing more than a memory hidden somewhere beyond the horizon.
The roar of alarm bells, the panic of the Faith, the questions that would soon consume the realm, all of it had been left behind amidst the smoke and stone of the capital.
Only the wind remained.
It flowed around them in long, gentle currents now, no longer the savage rush that had accompanied their desperate flight from the Maidenvault. The air was warmer here, touched by the scent of distant fields and rivers.
The sky stretched endlessly above them, a brilliant blue unmarred by clouds.
Far below, the green heart of the Reach rolled across the world like an endless sea.
Rhaego's sharp eyes fixed upon a familiar shape emerging in the distance.
There.
Highgarden.
At first it seemed little more than a pale speck amongst green hills and flowering meadows. Yet with every passing moment its towers grew larger, its white walls brighter beneath the midday sun.
A small smile touched the corner of his mouth.
They had made it.
With Margaery Tyrell secure in his arms, he adjusted his speed, gliding lower as the great castle of Highgarden came into view.
"Lady Margaery," he called over the wind, his voice loud enough to carry.
"Open your eyes."
For a moment she did not move. Then slowly, cautiously, she lifted her head from his chest.
The first thing she noticed was the silence.
Not true silence, of course. The wind still whispered past them, and she could hear the steady beat of great wings cutting through the air.
But the terrifying rush was gone.
Gone was the sensation of being hurled through the heavens.
Margaery stirred against his chest. She slowly lifted her head, blinking against the bright daylight, and looked down.
Her breath caught.
There it was… Her home.
Highgarden stretched beneath them in all its glory.
It rose atop its broad hill like a crown of white stone and living green, the three concentric walls shimmering in the midday sun. The famous briar maze wound around its base like a serpent made of thorns and flowers.
The Mander gleamed like a silver ribbon winding through fields of green and gold. Orchards spread for miles. Vineyards climbed gentle hillsides. Countless flowers painted the landscape in every color imaginable.
And at the center of it all stood the castle itself.
Her castle.
The home she had known since childhood, yet from this height it appeared strangely small.
That surprised her.
All her life she had thought Highgarden was immense beyond imagining. Its towers had seemed to scrape the heavens themselves when viewed from below.
Now, seen from the sky, it looked almost delicate.
From this height, the castle she had always thought of as massive and imposing looked strangely small, like a child's toy set upon the land.
A tiny jewel resting within an ocean of green.
The sight felt unreal.
Beautiful.
As though she had stepped into one of Old Nan's stories and left the world of ordinary men behind.
Her gaze drifted upward.
Toward the man carrying her.
Toward the silver hair dancing in the wind and the vast obsidian crimson-edged wings stretching behind him.
Whatever else he might be, he was not ordinary. The realization no longer frightened her as much as it should have.
If anything, she found it strangely comforting.
After all, how was one supposed to fear a monster who had crossed half a continent to rescue her?
And another thought came to her… It was a relief that he was on their side. How could anyone hope to defeat a man who could fly like this?
Rhaego glided lower, aiming for the secluded inner gardens where Lady Olenna had instructed him to land if the rescue succeeded. As they drew closer, he spotted two figures seated at a small table beneath a flowering arbor, the Queen of Thorns and Princess Arianne, calmly sharing tea as if it were any ordinary afternoon.
Even from the sky he recognized them immediately.
Rhaego's expression soured into a faint frown, the corners of his mouth twitched downward.
While I'm out there risking my neck to rescue the queen, he thought dryly, they're having a nice cup of tea.
Sometimes I wish I could do the same.
He had spent the night flying through darkness, avoiding patrols, sneaking into the Red Keep, stealing a queen from beneath the High Sparrow's nose, and outracing the dawn itself.
Meanwhile, the architects of the entire scheme appeared to be enjoying a pleasant midday refreshment.
Sometimes politics felt remarkably unfair.
A part of him would have very much liked a cup of tea… Perhaps three.
He adjusted his grip on Margaery, folding his wings slightly to control the descent
His shoulders burned with exhaustion, every muscle protesting the strain. His wings felt heavy as lead, each beat more difficult than the last. In truth, everything hurts.
Yet he continued descending.
For Daenerys and for her future… For the chance to prevent the ending he remembered all too well.
The thought alone was enough to harden his resolve.
Rhaego spread his wings wide, catching the air and slowing their descent.
The two ladies in the garden noticed them.
Olenna rose from her chair with surprising speed for her age. Arianne was already on her feet, eyes bright with anticipation.
Flower petals burst upward around them in a swirling cloud of color. The grass flattened beneath the force of his landing, bending and rippling outward from the impact.
A moment later, his boots touched the earth.
Carefully, he lowered Margaery onto her feet.
The world seemed to sway beneath her for an instant. For a moment she swayed, dizzy from the long flight and the sudden return to solid earth.
Then she looked up.
And saw her grandmother.
The Queen of Thorns stood only a few paces away.
For perhaps the first time in her life, Lady Olenna Tyrell appeared completely bereft of clever remarks.
"Grandmother," she said, voice steady but warm with relief.
Margaery crossed the distance between them without hesitation.
Olenna opened her arms, and the two women embraced firmly, but with the composed dignity expected of Tyrell women. Margaery held her tightly for a moment, then pulled back, managing a small, tired smile.
Olenna studied her granddaughter for a long moment, her sharp eyes searching for any sign of injury or distress.
Finding none, she gave a short nod of approval.
Nearby, Arianne Martell approached Rhaego, with a small, approving smile on her lips.
The Dornish princess studied him openly, her dark eyes moving from his tired face to the wings folding behind him.
"Well," she said at last, amusement dancing in her voice.
"I confess, my prince, you have made me look rather foolish."
Rhaego raised an eyebrow.
"How so?"
"I expected at least a week of waiting. Perhaps two." Her smile widened. "Instead, you disappear one night and return before the next supper carrying the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms in your arms."
Rhaego snorted, shaking his head with dry amusement.
"It sounds much more impressive when you say it like that," he said wryly.
Arianne's lips curled into a playful smile.
"Oh, should I mention the part where you flew across half of Westeros?" she asked teasingly.
"Honestly? I was hoping to get this done as quickly as possible," Rhaego replied with a resigned sigh.
"The sooner everything is settled, the better for everyone." He left it at that, carefully avoiding the real reason.
As someone who knew far too much about the future waiting for Margaery, he had every incentive to speed things along, but that was hardly something he could explain out loud.
"Then I imagine the experience was considerably less enjoyable than the songs will make it sound," Arianne said lightly, her eyes gleaming with amusement.
That earned the faintest laugh from him.
Arianne seemed pleased by the victory.
"Still," she continued, lowering her voice slightly as her gaze drifted toward Olenna and Margaery, "whether the singers exaggerate or not, the result remains the same."
"The result?" Rhaego asked, following her line of thought.
"The Tyrells owe you a debt now," Arianne replied knowingly.
Rhaego followed her gaze.
A grandmother reunited with her granddaughter and a powerful house rescued from humiliation.
An alliance strengthened.
Arianne's smile softened ever so slightly.
"Not a bad night's work, my prince."
Rhaego let out a tired scoff, still catching his breath as he folded his wings against his back.
"It wasn't exactly easy trying not to get spotted as a flying man in the sky," he replied dryly. "I had to stay above the clouds most of the way. But… yes. She's safe."
Arianne's smile widened, warm and genuine this time.
"At least now we have the Tyrells on our side. Good job, Rhaego. Truly."
Rhaego rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed by the praise but accepting it with a small nod.
Olenna finally released Margaery, holding her at arm's length one last time.
"You're truly unharmed?" she asked.
Margaery nodded, her composure returning fully.
"I am. Thanks to him."
The garden fell into a brief, heavy silence, a relief, exhaustion, and the weight of what came next hanging in the air.
The alliance between Dorne, the Reach, and the dragon had just taken its first real step.