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Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not the genius behind A Song of Ice & Fire, nor one of the ones behind Rise of the Guardians. All I own is my own insanity, which I claim proudly and fully blame for this convoluted mess.

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Chapter Fifteen: ARYA

She could not say why she had decided to go with them. Maybe it was because they knew who she was – who she really was – and had to be watched. Maybe it was because they did not seem threatening. It could have even been as simple a reason as they fed her. She did not know. But already it was worth it, if even for the laughs. The hilarity of watching the tall man – Bunny, the woman called him; and really, how could she be afraid of a man named Bunny? – trip over his feet never grew old. And the woman – she said her name was Tooth, which was also not very scary – was fun to talk to. Arya never would have thought she would enjoy idle chit-chat, but Tooth didn't gossip like Sansa used to.

Instead, she told stories, but not the stupid flowery love stories about knights and princes that would never survive real battles. They were wonderful and fantastic and Arya couldn't help but believe they were true. She listened raptly as Tooth told her of growing up in the jungle, living in the trees and alongside fierce animals. She especially loved hearing about the tigers, which the feathered woman said were twice the size of lions. Of course, she kept her feelings about it to herself, as she doubted that sharing visions of the orange-and-black beasts devouring stupid Queen Cersei and that idiot Joffrey would be warmly welcomed.

Aside from the tigers, her favorite stories were about the epic battles Tooth had not only seen, but participated in. The warrior queen, Nymeria, had always been a hero of Arya's, but the Summer Islander was quickly joining her. A part of her wished for some attack, just so she could see if Tooth really was telling the truth. She would bet the golden dragons she'd gotten for her tooth that the woman would be beautiful in battle. Her eyes darted to the back of the wagon, falling on the meager bundle of belongings she had brought with her. Maybe…

The cart bounced to a stop, though there were still a few hours of daylight left. They never made camp before nightfall. "What is it?" she demanded, looking over at Tooth. The other woman stood, violet eyes scanning the desert before darting to Bunny. Arya followed the gaze, feeling uneasy as he sniffed the air and shifted into a fighting crouch that somehow made him seem bigger. She could almost imagine fur fluffing as he bared his teeth. Lithely, she hopped into the back of the wagon, snatching Needle out of her pack.

She could defend herself. She was nobody's prey.

The ground started to rumble as the unseen enemy came closer. War cries pierced the horizon in a language Arya didn't speak, but recognized easily. As a wall of horses appeared, her suspicions were validated. They were about to face a Dothraki raiding party.

She did not know much about the savage horselords, but there was one thing she had no doubt of. Three people, no matter how skilled they may be, could not stand up to them. She and Tooth might survive and be taken as slaves, but Bunny – poor, stumbling Bunny – would surely die. That was too bad; she was just starting to like the man.

"Those are Dothraki," she told Tooth as the band started towards their solitary wagon. "All they do is rape and pillage. If they don't kill you, they'll make you a slave."

Something dark fell over Tooth as she absorbed Arya's words; a cold violence that the girl had seen in mother animals when their young were threatened. Her eyes glazed over, shoving the cheerful happiness behind a warrior's curtain and Arya could have sworn that the feathers on her cape and headdress ruffled angrily. In the time it took her to blink, Tooth had pulled out a pair of swords that were unlike any the girl had seen before. They were long and curved, serrated near the tips so as to tear the flesh. They were lethal and lovely and Arya wanted them.

Bunny's weapons were lackluster next to Tooth's swords and Arya felt dismay settle in her heart. What could he hope to do with curved bits of stick? They would not even make a decent shield. "You, stupid," she growled, pointing Needle at him in annoyance. "That won't even slow them down!"

Maybe Bunny did not speak Westerosi, but he could apparently tell an insult when he heard one. Arya flinched in spite of herself when he glanced over his shoulder at her, shrugging an eyebrow and giving her a smirk. With a practiced motion, he let his sticks fly and all the girl could do was stare as they crossed the distance between them and the Dothraki – farther than anyone should have been able to throw – and cut through the small horde, knocking a handful from their horses before returning to their owner, who caught them expertly.

Then another cry whooped through the air and the fight was on. Tooth and Bunny fell into combat with ease, used to each other's presence and technique and Arya was awed. They were beautiful, almost like dancers, and fast. Bunny zipped between horses, using his large size to knock them off their path, his lack of grace vanishing in the heat of battle. Tooth was all but a blur as she cut and sliced, visible only when she would leap over an enemy, seeming to hover in the air. The girl forgot she was supposed to be helping.

Until a pair of hands grabbed her from behind.

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A/N: Am I an evil bitch? Sometimes, yes. Today is just a cliffhanger type of day, I guess. Sorry. Actually, no, not really. Because I know they draw you back.