Game of Thrones: The blind warrior

The sun beat down relentlessly on the backs of Mary and Zhal as they made their way through the dry, unforgiving plains of Essos. Astapor was still a long way off, and their journey so far had been filled with an absurd amount of trouble for two people who had barely been traveling together for more than a week.

"This is ridiculous," Mary grumbled, wiping sweat from her brow as they trudged along. "I didn't sign up for all this… walking."

Zhal glanced sideways at her, his own lips chapped and peeling from the heat. "You didn't sign up for anything. You just dragged me along."

"I saved your life, remember?" Mary shot back, glaring at him. "You owe me!"

"Yeah, yeah," Zhal muttered, kicking a small rock in frustration. "Just didn't expect that 'owing you' meant walking through half the desert barefoot because someone *decided* to lose our shoes in a river."

Mary stopped, whirling around to face him with a look of indignation. "How was I supposed to know that crossing that river would sweep us down the current? I've never seen water move that fast!"

Zhal raised an eyebrow. "It was a river, Mary. They tend to do that."

Mary huffed, throwing her hands up in the air. "Well, maybe you should've warned me! Instead of yelling, 'Run faster!' like it was some sort of inspirational speech!"

Zhal shrugged, unable to suppress a grin. "I thought you needed the motivation."

"You're impossible," she muttered, turning back around and stomping forward. "And now my feet are burning!"

"Maybe if you didn't lose your shoes—"

"Shut up."

---

Their journey so far had been, to put it lightly, an utter disaster. They'd escaped bandits by the skin of their teeth (thanks mostly to Zhal's swift reflexes and Mary's surprising ability to throw rocks with deadly accuracy), accidentally slept through an entire day in a cave (because Mary *insisted* it was just "a short nap"), and lost most of their supplies to a thieving monkey that had somehow managed to make off with their food while Zhal was bathing in a nearby stream.

"Honestly," Zhal muttered, still bitter about the monkey incident as they walked. "How does a monkey even know how to open a bag?"

"You were too busy admiring yourself in the water," Mary teased, earning a glare from Zhal. "Next time, maybe don't get distracted by your own reflection."

"I was *washing* my hair," Zhal protested. "You were supposed to be keeping watch!"

"I was watching!" Mary said, puffing out her chest in mock seriousness. "I just didn't expect a monkey to be a master thief."

They shared a glance before both of them burst into laughter, the absurdity of their situation too much to hold in.

"Alright, alright," Mary said between giggles, wiping a tear from her eye. "But seriously, that monkey was crafty. Could've been a bandit in a past life."

Zhal snorted. "Probably a better bandit than the ones who tried to rob us yesterday."

"Don't remind me," Mary groaned. "I swear, they weren't even trying."

It had been a particularly pathetic encounter. The bandits, a ragtag group of barely armed men, had attempted to ambush them on the road. Zhal, using his Dothraki training, had easily disarmed one of them, and Mary had distracted the rest by throwing sand in their eyes before the two of them made a run for it.

"What did that one bandit yell as we were running away?" Zhal asked, still chuckling at the memory.

Mary furrowed her brow, trying to recall. "Oh! He said, 'You can't outrun destiny!'"

They both erupted into laughter again, the sound echoing through the barren landscape.

"Destiny?" Zhal said, clutching his sides as he laughed. "What, was he planning to rob us in our sleep later?"

"Maybe," Mary replied, wiping her eyes. "But the way he tripped over his own feet trying to chase us didn't really scream 'destiny.'"

Zhal shook his head, still grinning. "If that's what we're up against, we might actually survive this journey."

They continued walking, the heat of the day slowly starting to cool as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Despite the discomfort of the journey and the constant bickering, they had fallen into a rhythm. Their banter kept them both sane, even when the odds seemed stacked against them.

---

As they approached a small rocky outcrop, Zhal's eyes narrowed. "We should stop here for the night," he suggested, glancing around for any signs of danger. "It'll give us some cover."

"Fine by me," Mary said, plopping down onto the nearest rock with a relieved sigh. "My feet are killing me."

Zhal began gathering some dry brush and sticks to start a fire, his movements quick and practiced. Mary watched him for a moment before speaking up.

"So," she began, a mischievous grin forming on her lips. "Are you going to tell me about how Daenerys conquered Astapor with her three dragons, or was that just some fever dream you made up while you were dying in the desert?"

Zhal rolled his eyes, setting the brush down carefully. "I told you, it wasn't a fever dream. I saw the dragons with my own eyes."

"Right," Mary drawled, leaning back against the rock. "And next you're going to tell me the dragons spoke perfect common tongue and invited you for tea."

Zhal smirked. "Not tea. More like brunch."

Mary snorted, shaking her head. "Please. You expect me to believe a story like that? Dragons? Thousands of Unsullied? And a queen just waltzing into a city and taking it over?"

"That's exactly what happened, apparently" Zhal said, his tone mock-serious. "The merchant told me thatShe told the slavers she'd trade two of her dragons for Unsullied, and then—bam—'dracarys.' Burned the whole place to the ground."

"Uh-huh," Mary said, giving him a skeptical look. "And what happened next? Did the dragons build sandcastles out of the rubble?"

Zhal sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You're impossible."

Mary grinned, throwing a small pebble at him. "I just don't believe you. You're telling me there's a woman out there with *three* dragons, an army of 100,000 Unsullied, and she's also a queen? You're pulling my leg."

Zhal crossed his arms, sitting down across from her. "Why would I make something like that up?"

Mary considered him for a moment before shrugging. "I don't know, maybe it's the desert heat getting to your head. Or maybe you just want to sound interesting."

Zhal chuckled, shaking his head. "You'll see when we get there. Then you'll owe me an apology."

Mary rolled her eyes. "I won't owe you anything. But sure, let's say dragons are real. What's next? grumpkins?"

Zhal grinned. "Well, if dragons exist, why not grumpkins?"

Mary laughed, leaning back against the rock. "If we run into any grumpkins on this journey, I'll make you a crown out of their horns."

"Deal," Zhal replied, still grinning. "But don't be too shocked when we arrive in Astapor and you see the dragons flying overhead."

They settled into a comfortable silence after that, the crackling fire providing some warmth as the temperature dipped with the setting sun. The stars began to twinkle overhead, a blanket of night slowly falling over the desert.

Mary glanced over at Zhal, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. For all their bickering, she was glad she had him as a traveling companion. He wasn't perfect—far from it—but at least he made the journey interesting.

"Hey," she said softly after a while. "Thanks for sticking around. I mean… you didn't have to, but you did."

Zhal looked over at her, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. He shrugged, his grin softening into something more genuine. "You saved me. Besides, it's been… fun. Even with all the near-death experiences."

Mary chuckled, nodding. "Yeah. Fun."

They both fell silent again, staring into the fire as the flames flickered and danced. Despite everything, they had made it this far. And though their journey was far from over, at least they had each other to see it through.

"Tomorrow," Zhal said, his voice quieter now. "We'll be one step closer to Astapor."

"And dragons," Mary teased, though her voice was gentle.

"And dragons," Zhal agreed, smiling.

The fire crackled, the stars shimmered, and for the first time in days, they felt a glimmer of hope on the horizon.