[298 AC]
Unsheathing his massive broadsword, the Mountain didn't hesitate to make an overhead swing, obviously attempting to kill his mount with a single strike.
*CLANG*
His weapon did not meet flesh though, as a thin spear blade simply blocked and caught his mighty blow. Incredulous and even more wrathful, Gregor Clegane fixed his gaze on the Dornish spearwoman, clad in light red-coloured leather armor with chainmail covering her bust and torso down till her navel.
All those watching were in shock as their eyes were drawn from the winner of the joust to the confrontation between one of the most deadly and ruthless warriors in Westeros and a female spear wielder wearing the colours of the Red Temple.
"If you want to kill your horse, you will do so elsewhere, scum.", Obara announced with little patience and even less respect, the feather-shaped tattoo on her cheek glowing with power.
Anger quickly consuming his mind, the Mountain drew back his greatsword and swung it at the much smaller woman before him with a diagonal upwards slash while roaring like a beast.
Snorting derisively, Obara simply leaned back minimally to avoid the blade, before spinning around and passing by the giant warrior. Her spear drew a beautiful trajectory while being too fast for the armor-wearing man to avoid or even follow.
And before the Mountain could react a spear blade hit the left side of his head squarely and with such force that he was knocked out almost instantly, causing him to fall to the ground like a wet sack.
Crouching low, Obara grabbed the back of his armor and in a feat of superhuman strength, she just flung the giant of a man halfway across the track and out of sight as if he weighed nothing.
Giving off a hissing sound in the direction of the irritated and violent horse, which immediately caused it to turn fearfully tame and run, she returned to her place in the front of the tent while utter silence spread across the track.
Sighing audibly, Arianne looked at her cousin's calm demeanor after she had just publicly humiliated the man that she had just protected from her husband's lance. The ridicule that would follow the Mountain from this day forward would have aroused Arianne's pity had she not hated the man to the bone.
The Dornish were after all passionate and ruthless people, and while Obara's actions had been sudden, they also didn't surprise Arianne that much.
“At least you didn't kill him.”, the Dornish Princess said with some annoyance.
Turning towards her, the young Feather smirked at her cousin, as she replied leisurely: “My father can have his head, but his pride is mine now.”
Phenex didn't comment on Obara's actions, though he gave off a slight smile, knowing that things had just gotten much more interesting.
Additionally, the young Feather's show of power was also masterfully executed, as the surroundings small folk now looked at the young spearwoman with something akin to worship, while the noble's hearts were filled with terror.
…
Once again a hit of the wooden training blade had Arya Stark hiss in pain as she stumbled backward and threw her 'dancing instructor' an accusatory look.
"I am not the cause of your pain, little wolf.", Syrio Forel stated, his Braavosi accent thick as he spoke, "The cause for your pain lies with your thoughts being somewhere else instead of here where the fighting happens."
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Knowing he was right, Arya just blurted out what was on her mind since the day before.
"I heard from my sister that a young woman with a spear defeated the Mountain in one move, before flinging him at least 20 yards away with one hand as if he weighed nothing. Is it true? Does someone like that really exist?", she asked, her eyes shining with admiration and longing.
The normally flamboyant Braavosi swordmaster hearing her words lost his usual vigor as he looked at her with complex emotions in his eyes.
"You should ask your father these questions, not me, girl.", Syrio replied, obviously unwilling to touch that particular topic.
"I tried, but he won't talk to me about it. Nobody wants to.", Arya voiced out, visibly disappointed and frustrated, "Please, please just tell me if it is true. Is there really such a strong female fighter?"
Struggling visibly, Syrio finally caved in due to the girl's pleading, as he answered with a sigh: "It is true, girl. But that woman was not a fighter."
“Not a fighter? What is she then? A female Knight?”, Arya questioned curiously, her mood brightening visibly now that someone was finally willing to answer her question.
"She is a Feather, which makes her a member of the personal guard of the Red God. There are only thirteen of them in total and they are the greatest warriors in the world. They are unstoppable and said to be invincible. Each and every one of them rivals an army, but no matter how large an army you put against them, you could never defeat them.", Syrio explained slowly.
Hearing these unbelievable words, something fierce ignited in Arya's heart, as she imagined herself having such power. If she could be that powerful, who could have forced her to part with her best friend Nymeria? Who would dare accuse her of lying? Who would dare kill her friends?
“C-can I be like them? Like a Feather?”, Arya asked her teacher with hope in her voice.
A wry smile settled on Syrio's face, as he answered her: “This question, only the Red God can answer.”
“Does he really exist? The Red God?”, the young girl questioned further, “Is he really a god? My mother told me that he is an evil sorcer-”
"Quiet!", Syrio suddenly shouted, staring at the young Stark girl with deep and somewhat fearful eyes, "Some words cannot be spoken just because you are of noble blood, and you will not do so in my presence."
Shocked by his outburst, Arya clamped her mouth shut, as she stared at her normally enthusiastic dancing instructor while Syrio continued in a darker and quieter tone: "What could your mother possibly know about the God of Volantis, child? Has she seen the ashes he left behind after exterminating tens of thousands of warriors, or the Field of Ashes where hundreds of thousands of Dothraki fell to him and his Thirteen?"
"Your mother has not seen the Fiery Giant strike down the Titan of Braavos with her own eyes, has not felt his terrible, terrible power."
"The Father of Waves, the Weeping Ladies, the Moonsingers, the Silent God, Semosh and Selloso, the New Gods, the Old Gods or the Many-Faced-God. I have prayed to all of them, have seen and visited all their temples and holy sanctuaries in Braavos."
"But when the Fiery Giant came to the city and claimed the Titan's sword, not one of them made themselves known. Not one of them can help me forget the fear that struck my heart that day. And even now after ten years have passed, I can still hear the Fiery Giant roar when I close my eyes. Can still feel the earth quake and the sea churn responding to his anger."
"You do not have to worship the Red God, Arya Stark. But believe me, 'he' is as real as you and I are. That I can promise you.", the former First Sword of Braavos ended quietly, before he turned around and left without another word.
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