The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Maegor's Holdfast, the King's solar.

Cersei and Joffrey.

"Joffrey, after your grandfather finishes his meeting, you're going to apologize to him with me."

Joffrey glared at his mother, incredulous. "I apologize to Grandfather?" His voice became high-pitched and shrill to express his incomprehension. After a moment, his tone softened, as if he had figured something out, but the unwavering determination not to apologize remained in his words. "Why?"

"You did many things wrong today." Cersei felt a sense of helpless despair when facing Joffrey. She recalled Littlefinger's words: Joffrey knows you'll never really hurt him, so he'll never fear you.

"I will not apologize to Grandfather," Joffrey stated firmly. "Sansa, I want her to come and dress me."

"You cannot touch Sansa," Cersei said definitively. She decided to show Joffrey her strong side. He had broken free of the reins and needed to be brought back.

"She has already had her moon's blood and is my betrothed."

"Your marriage will soon be terminated. She is our hostage. Her safety ensures Jaime's safety."

"Uncle Jaime?" Joffrey suddenly smiled, looking at his mother. "Mother, I've heard some rumors about you and Uncle Jaime behind my father's back..."

Smack!

A loud slap.

Cersei hit Joffrey for the first time.

When she saw the utterly shocked look in her son's eyes, she immediately regretted it. The slap felt as if it had landed on her own face.

Joffrey glared at his mother, hand pressed against his stinging cheek. He practically screamed, "Seventeen years ago, when my father Robert Baratheon killed Rhaegar with his warhammer, where was Grandfather? When he crushed the loyalists, where was Grandfather? When the fate of the Seven Kingdoms was sealed and the Targaryen dynasty was doomed, Grandfather emerged, seizing King's Landing. But King's Landing was already my father's without Grandfather's help. Uncle Jaime killed the Mad King, sitting on the Iron Throne, but Lord Eddard walked into the throne room, and he still had to step down from the Iron Throne. The realm was won by my father. Why does Grandfather get all the power as soon as he arrives? And I am the true king, yet you want me to apologize to him and dare to hit me?"

Cersei was speechless, at a loss for words!

"Why can't I touch Sansa? I want her tonight."

"You have a new betrothed, Miss Margaery Tyrell of House Tyrell."

"I don't want her."

"You must marry her. It's a political marriage. When Stannis attacked King's Landing, Grandfather had to ally with House Tyrell. We need the Tyrell army. One of the conditions of the alliance is that you marry Miss Margaery Tyrell."

"We already won the war. We don't need the Tyrell army or Grandfather's army. King's Landing has the Mountain, the City Watch, the Royal Army, the Red Keep Guard, and the Clegane men. That's enough!"

"The situation was urgent then. No one could predict the outcome of the battle. We needed to ally with every force we could."

"Very well, then we don't need them now, so there's no need to ally anymore. I want to marry Sansa."

"Absolutely not," Cersei said sharply, her tone severe. "Because we need the Tyrells' grain to feed the city's people. Otherwise, the city's people will tear us apart."

Joffrey's heart blazed with anger. "I am the king. Why do you tell me no? I want Sansa, you say no. I want to drive out the Tyrells, you say no. I don't want to marry Margaery Tyrell, who already married Renly, and you still say no. Tell me, what can I do?"

"Margaery Tyrell is young and beautiful, even more beautiful than Sansa. The Tyrells' power is far greater than the Starks'. Margaery may have married Renly, but she is still a maiden. I have confirmed this with Lady Olenna. Renly never touched her on their wedding night."

"Why? I don't believe it!" Joffrey craned his neck, half his face already red, his right嘴角 curled into a sneer, looking at his mother provocatively.

"Renly loves Loras Tyrell, and Loras Tyrell loves him." Cersei felt a bitter taste in her mouth as she spoke. She couldn't decide whether she should say these things or whether they would have a bad influence on the child. But if she didn't say it, how could she make Joffrey understand that the problem on the wedding night wasn't with Margaery but with Renly?

"Oh? It seems the rumors are true," Joffrey said faintly, an odd glint in his eyes.

He turned and slammed the door, leaving Cersei stunned. Joffrey's words, "It seems the rumors are true," carried a different meaning to Cersei. Her affair with Jaime... did the child know...?

*

The snow-covered yard of the Iron Gate.

Bronn complained about the dim light as soon as he entered and insisted on lighting a fire in the fireplace.

Soon, the fire blazed brightly.

The mountain tribe warriors were already drinking in the yard, the noise constant. Obscene language was mixed with the sounds of fighting.

Tyrion pushed the wine toward Bronn, who picked it up, took a sip, and immediately frowned. "What kind of wine is this? Mare's milk or cow's milk?"

"I'm out of money, Bronn. Bear with it."

Bronn slammed the cup on the table, the wine splashing. "Half-man, what about our agreement?"

"I still want to hire you, at the same price. If anyone hires you to kill me in the future, I'll still offer double the price. I hope you remember that. It will never change."

"Go to hell. You're a pauper now and still owe me my fee."

Littlefinger was used to Bronn's rudeness. He simply glanced at Bronn without taking offense.

He used to be Hand of the King, and Cersei would at least be a little wary. Now he was nothing, the best time for Cersei to strike. His life faced the gravest threat. He had to save himself. Relying on his father, Tywin, was as good as relying on the Seven Gods.

"You may have married the simple girl from House Stokeworth and been knighted as the Knight of the Blackwater, but you're still a stupid mercenary. Use your brain. My brother is in the dungeons of Riverrun. My father has given up on him, refusing to lower himself and negotiate with the Northerners. My sister is the Queen Mother in the Red Keep. So, who will inherit Casterly Rock in the Westerlands? Hmm? I'm my father's only son. So, Bronn, I have plenty of gold, just not right now."

"Alright, then what did you call me here for? To pay me my fee, or to have me drink your terrible watered-down wine, or to have me kill someone?"

"I no longer have any official position in the Red Keep and can only live here now. I need you to protect me here."

Bronn looked at Shagga and Conn, who were already drunk. "Do you still want these fools? The war is over."

"Yes," Littlefinger said, taking a sip of wine and placing the cup down heavily. "But my war has just begun."

"Where's Podrick?"

"In the Red Keep, keeping an eye on my father for me. I'll go find him whenever he's free."

"Find your father?"

"Yes!"

"What for?"

"I want Casterly Rock."

"Your father won't give it to you, dwarf." Bronn picked up the cup, took a sip, frowned, and swallowed it anyway.

"If he doesn't give it to me, who can he give it to? Opportunities are earned, and so is Casterly Rock."

"Okay, dwarf, if you can inherit Casterly Rock, I'll continue to be your guard and can recruit soldiers from the Stokeworth lands to protect you, of course, all the money will be yours. If you don't get Casterly Rock, I'm sorry, I'm leaving you. Before I leave, you can't owe me a single penny of my fee."

Bronn reached out and took the plate in front of Tyrion. It was a whole chicken. He tore off a large drumstick.

Tyrion, whose face was injured, was not in a good mood. Bronn was becoming increasingly rude, and he finally couldn't hold back. "Bronn, did I allow you to eat my dinner?"

"Judging by the way you look, I knew you weren't planning on eating it anyway," Bronn said, biting off a large piece of chicken. "The whole city is starving. Wasting food is a crime. Half-man, can't you get some good wine?"

"You're too presumptuous," he warned. "I am a Lannister. Maybe my father will remember my intelligence and send someone to find me tomorrow and appoint me as the Master of Whisperers."

"Oh, I wouldn't count on it, dwarf!"

Smack!

Bronn casually tossed the chicken bone in front of Tyrion, the chicken bone flipping over. "Smart half-man, have you ever thought that if the order of birth were reversed, everyone's lives would be much better?" He stuck his fingers into the chicken, tearing off a handful of breast meat. "I'm talking about that crybaby Tommen, yes, Joffrey's brother, obedient, cute, fair-skinned, with the same golden hair and blue eyes. He seems to do whatever he's told. That's what a good king should be like. I bet a lot of people would rather have Tommen as king."

Tyrion immediately realized the mercenary's implication, a chill running down his spine: If Tommen were king...

There was only one way for Tommen to be king.

No, he didn't even want to think about that method.

Joffrey was his nephew, Cersei's son, Jaime's son. Jaime was still in the dungeons of Riverrun. Someone here already wanted...

"I should cut your head off for saying these things," Tyrion said sternly.

Bronn laughed heartily.

"Where did you hear these words?"

"Nowhere, dwarf. That's just what I think. I believe many people in the throne room today would think the same way. What do you think?"

Tyrion thought of Joffrey's actions in the throne room today, a cold sweat breaking out on his back. His father was a ruthless man, the Queen of Thorns was even more ruthless, Littlefinger was an absolutely ruthless man hiding in the shadows... These ruthless people were in the Red Keep with Joffrey...

The sound of hooves rang out, stopping at the gate of the courtyard. Footsteps sounded, and Podrick rushed in. "My lord, the Hand's meeting has ended and returned to the Hand's Tower."

"Good, let's go."

"The Mountain also returned to the Hand's Tower with the Hand."

"Oh, it doesn't matter. By the time we get to the Hand's Tower, the Mountain will probably have left."

Tyrion stood up and walked out with Podrick. Bronn was still gnawing on the chicken, frowning and drinking the very bad wine. Since he had taken up residence in Stokeworth, his demands for wine had become higher.

"Bronn!" Tyrion called out.

He had Shagga and Conn, as well as the mountain warriors, but they were all almost drunk.

Bronn sat, as steady as a mountain.

Tyrion sensed something was wrong. "What's wrong, Bronn?"

Without Bronn's protection, he would feel very unsafe on the streets.

"Half-man, I don't mind being your squire. Back then, King Robert was Jon Arryn's squire, and so was Eddard Stark. Great lords have a tradition of being squires for others. It's not shameful, but I'm already the lord of Stokeworth, the Knight of the Blackwater, and my wife is the rightful heir to Stokeworth..."

"Yes, you fucking know you're the lord of Stokeworth. Why don't I know that?" Tyrion mocked. Without Tyrion's efforts, Bronn would have lost his life in Stokeworth.

Bronn laughed. "Half-man, your kindness, I protected you from being killed many times during the Battle of Blackwater. I think I've paid back most of it. Now, the fee, double the original price, and I'll stand up and go with you."

"Then come on, mercenary!"

*

The Hand's Tower.

The study.

Lord Tywin sat behind his desk, his brother Kevan Lannister by his side.

Both lions were looking at the Mountain.

The Mountain stood in front of the desk, his head almost touching the ceiling of the study.

Tywin said calmly, "Mountain, I'm surprised you accepted Dragonstone."

"I'm also surprised, Father."

"Dragonstone is barren, more stone than soil. The territory only has a few fishing villages and some nearby islands."

"Yes, Father."

"Castamere is fertile and has many gold mines. Are you not planning to take it?"

This question was very dangerous. A slight slip and the Mountain would be in great trouble.

"Father, His Majesty's actions have surprised us all." The Mountain first shifted the blame to Joffrey. "The Royal Navy fleet was indeed destroyed under my command. I also promised the naval officers and soldiers that once they were killed in action, I would be responsible for the living expenses of their families and the inheritance rights of their descendants, and I would urge the government officials to distribute the full amount of compensation. I've learned these past few days that many of the soldiers' descendants hope to inherit their fathers' naval positions, whether as sailors or warriors, some even as captains. Please give me time to reorganize the Royal Navy fleet. Once completed, please allow me to take Dragonstone, eliminate Stannis's last remnants, and then I will return Dragonstone to the King and resign as Master of Ships."

Silence.

The famous golden flecks in Tywin's green eyes shimmered.

He did not express agreement or disagreement.

"Mountain, given Joffrey's ignorance today, some have suggested that I send Joffrey to the Citadel in Oldtown for further study, and then return to continue as king after he has completed his studies. During his absence, the Small Council will temporarily preside over all government affairs. What is your opinion?"

The Mountain's heart stirred. Had history completely changed? Did the road ahead seem unpredictable?

But perhaps this was another test question from the Duke. What Duke Tywin didn't say was: If Tommen were king... Once Joffrey left, there would be no chance of him ever coming back... Then Tommen would be king...

"I don't think it's appropriate, Father."

He had to try his best to pull the world's trajectory back a bit, even though the culprit who changed the world's trajectory was the Mountain himself.

"Oh?"

"Joffrey is terrible, only then can he show the Prime Minister's brilliance. As long as he is strictly controlled, and the maids, guards, court supervisors, Kingsguard, and others are held responsible for the King's words and deeds, then nothing will be out of control. If the King is sent away, the Seven Kingdoms will think that Father wants to control the court. The Seven Kingdoms are still in civil strife, which will only increase the suspicion of our own people and give the enemy an excuse to incite the people."

Kevan and Tywin both moved almost imperceptibly.

The Mountain's opinion was pertinent, and Tywin and Kevan both listened to it, but the shrewd insight he showed made them even more fearful!

The Mountain is getting stronger and stronger in all aspects!

"Mountain, Joffrey himself could not have issued the knighthood and the appointment as Master of Ships that were announced to you today. I don't know who drafted it behind him, who instructed him behind the scenes, but I know who to ask to find out all this."

Tywin's knife was raised, and he himself, obviously, although he was the Duke of Dragonstone, was still the Mountain of before, that mad dog.

"Court Supervisor Horace Kevin, take some time to find him and talk about who proposed, who drafted, who revised, and who finally transcribed Joffrey's knighthood and appointment orders. Ask him clearly and report back to me. If it was Joffrey's own idea, then who wrote it, the maester or the supervisor? If there is no mastermind, kill the person who wrote it and report back to me."

"Yes, Father."

The Mountain walked out of the study, he was sure he was temporarily safe because Tywin still needed him.

A knife that has been used to for twenty years is not so easy to abandon.

As long as the Duke still has enemies, and the Mountain continues to be obedient, the safety factor should be relatively high.

But the Mountain decided to act in advance. He wanted to go back quickly and talk to Jeyne about what 'prophecy of disaster' she had seen.

The Mountain walked out of the Tower of the Hand and saw the Imp Tyrion at the gate, with two attendants: Bronn and Podrick.