This is a oneshot series of Ylva Ironside, my OC, as she battles through the world of RotBTD. The series will be mainly disjointed since I literally write what I feel like writing at that moment. This is just so I can have a feel of the story. I'll make it an actual story later on, but this is for people who don't mind spoilers. A brief description of events that happened beforehand will be provided if necessary.

Also, I'd like to point out that the parts I write won't necessarily be in the order of the sequence of events. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians, How to Train Your Dragon, Tangled or Brave. If I did, well, I wouldn't be doing this, now would I?

I. Confusion

Ylva Ironside wakes up after being caught in a forest fire with her dragon, Spitfire to realise there was something off...

The first thing that Ylva thought when she opened her eyes was how bright the world was. The leaves in the forest left untouched by the fire were greener. It was strange, she thought, how she was lying on the very boarder of the fire's destruction. When she looked left, all there was was black. Black bark, black grass, black trees. Black, black, black. And to her right, it was as if the world had just been newly washed though there was no rain.

How did I get here? she thought, trying to remember. Immediately images raced through her mind. The forest fire. A scared dragon. Yelling for help. The cave. Holding Spitfire.

Spitfire! she realised. And the cave! But… "How did I get out here?" she asked aloud to no-one in particular.

She had a headache too, she realised when a pain shot through her brain. A mind-numbing headache. Ylva searched the skies, but there was a thick cloud coverage. No answers there.

Slowly, she stood up, again noting how she was positioned between the two areas. She needed answers, and she needed to venture to where she came from. Perhaps she would find Spitfire as well. They could figure it out together.

So she marched. The smell of smoke and burnt plant life itched at her nose, but she ignored it. Ylva Ironside was on a mission and gods have mercy on the souls of those who dared get in her way. Making her way was a mission. Her knobbly legs made her realise just how weak she was from exhaustion. Smoke fumes still lingered in the air which caused her to cough and hack and she looked unsightly. Her hair probably had twigs in it, her face all sweaty from exertion and her hands black from feeling her way around the burnt, ashy trees.

How long she trudged through the forest, she didn't know, but after a while the clouds parted for about a minute and the moonbeams struck the forest in an ethereal way. Ylva glanced up, noting for the first time that night, how big the moon was. And bright. A sort of sign of hope after a wave of destruction. A message of good things to come.

As she stood there, marveling at its beauty, a soft voice – barely above a whisper – trickled through the forest.

"Timekeeper."

"What?" she asked in alarm, swiveling to find the to find the source. And just as quickly as it came, it left. The clouds covered the moon once more and there was nothing to suggest anything that occurred in the last twenty seconds or so truly happened.

"Timekeeper?" Ylva's voice was laced with confusion as she again looked at sky and receiving no answer.

Before she could have more time to ponder another voice (this time clear and familiar) rang through the forest. "Ylva!"

Her spine stiffened in excitement. "I'm here! Don't worry! I'm alright, Dad!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, sprinting in the general direction of the voice. Her arms and legs pumped, jumping over tree roots and avoiding fallen branches in desperation fallen branches in desperation to find people she knew.