The Mountain of Ice and Fire

"Who is Tywin Lannister raising his banners for this time?" The Mountain said coldly. "Unless someone's heart is cold and can't feel the kindness his family has for him."

"Oh, you're right, Ser Gregor. Thank you, I am so grateful that you are all raising armies because you love me so deeply. Now, hear me roar!" Tyrion chuckled, 'Hear me roar' being the Lannister family motto. "So, how are the battles progressing?"

"Smoothly," said The Mountain, knowing Tyrion was quick-witted and eloquent, though he himself was a practical man with decent eloquence. "Lord Edmure, with his love for the people, dispersed his forces into small teams stationed in every village along the border to prevent our sudden attacks. The Westerland army, led by Jaime, launched a surprise attack in the dead of night, routing the Riverlords. Edmure Tully and many of his vassal knights were captured. Lord Blackwood gathered a few remnants and fled back to Riverrun, where he is holding the castle. Jaime is now laying siege. The other lords scattered like frightened mice, each fleeing home to hide underground."

"We are eliminating them one by one," Ser Kevan said. "Without Lord Blackwood to hold it, Raventree Hall fell immediately. As soon as The Mountain's forces arrived at Harrenhal, Lady Shella Whent surrendered the castle. The lands of House Piper and House Bracken have been burned to the ground…"

"So the Riverlands nobility has collapsed, and we've won this war?" Tyrion asked.

Ser Kevan said, "Currently, House Mallister in the northern Riverlands still holds Seagard, and Lord Walder Frey of the Twins is also gathering his forces."

"It doesn't matter," said Lord Tywin. "The Freys won't move unless they smell victory, and right now, the air is thick with defeat. As for Jason Mallister of Seagard, he is indeed brave and loyal, but his forces are clearly insufficient. Once Jaime takes Riverrun, Mallister and Frey will naturally submit. If the Starks and Arryns don't intervene, we've already won this war."

"I just escaped from the Vale of Arryn. Based on my observations of Lysa Tully, we don't need to worry too much about the Arryns. Lysa Tully and Catelyn Tully don't have a good relationship. For whatever reason, she probably won't send troops," Tyrion said. "But the Starks are different. Lord Eddard and King Robert—"

"Robert Baratheon is dead," The Mountain boomed. "The King of the Seven Kingdoms now is your nephew, Joffrey Baratheon."

This shocked Tyrion, who was already emotionally stirred. "The great inventor, do you mean my sister is ruling?" He took a big gulp of wine. Robert is dead, Joffrey is young, the ruler in the Red Keep is Cersei. With Cersei ruling, the kingdom's situation will become very turbulent. Heaven knows what ridiculous things my shallow but self-righteous sister will do.

"Then, what about Lord Eddard?" Tyrion asked again. With Eddard Stark's integrity and inflexibility, he and his sister would inevitably be at odds. This country will be in chaos. The Hand and the King's mother arguing over every piece of business in the throne room, Gods, the thought of that scene is amusing.

"Eddard Stark has been imprisoned for treason. Before his trial could take place, he disappeared from the Red Keep's dungeons, along with Varys the Spider."

Tyrion sputtered and nearly choked on his wine again. He quickly put down his cup and swallowed all the wine in his mouth.

"If you're willing to help, I have a task for you," Lord Tywin said indifferently. "Mark Piper and Karyl Vance are causing trouble behind our lines, raiding our territories across the Red Fork."

Tyrion clicked his tongue. "Just a few pesky parasites. Normally, I'd be happy to teach those rude fellows a lesson, but Father, I can be used in other ways."

"Is that so?" Lord Tywin said expressionlessly. "I hope you can use your talent for escape to deal with them, but don't cause any more trouble for me."

Tyrion wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, which was covered in wine stains from almost choking again. He smiled. "Father, I will take the men you give me to deal with Mark Piper and Karyl Vance, and beat them until they piss their pants. But before I go looking for those two unlucky bastards, I have to fulfill my promise—I want three thousand helmets, three thousand suits of chainmail, swords, spears, steel spearheads, maces, battle axes, iron gauntlets, gorgets, knee pads, breastplates, and carriages to carry all these things—"

Before he could finish, the door behind him was slammed open with violent force. Ser Kevan cursed and jumped up, and Tyrion was startled—a figure flew across the room, crashed into the fireplace, and rolled into the cooled ashes, the lion helmet askew—it was Lord Tywin's captain of the guard.

Lord Tywin remained impassive, only his eyes twitched slightly. The Mountain and Pycelle didn't move, as if nothing had happened.

Shae, the mountain clan chief Tyrion had deceived in the Vale of Arryn, barged in, still holding the captain of the guard's longsword. With a snap, Shae broke the captain's sword into two pieces with his thick, tree-trunk-like knee. He dropped the broken sword, which clattered loudly. He swaggered into the hall, his body reeking of stale urine.

"Half-man!" he roared. "Are you going to make us wait out here like this?" Then he saw the others in the room, and of course, The Mountain.

Shae, who had sent the captain of the guard flying with a powerful blow, paused, and a look of fear appeared in his eyes. The Mountain, tall and imposing like a mountain, put enormous pressure on Shae. The Mountain's eyes were like nails, and his heart jumped at a single glance.

Then, footsteps sounded outside, and several uninvited guests entered the hall.

Ulf, as black as rock; Chella, with her necklace of human ears; the skinny Gunthor; the one-eyed Tymett, and a helpless-looking Bronn. It seemed Bronn had tried to stop them from entering, but failed. The sellsword shrugged regretfully at Tyrion, then moved a step to let the burly Shae block his view of The Mountain.

"Who are you?" Lord Tywin asked, his tone as cold as ice.

"Father, they are natives of the Vale of Arryn," Tyrion explained hesitantly, Shae's behavior had been too rude. "Can I keep them? They don't eat much."

Tyrion's last witty remark to ease the atmosphere didn't elicit any laughter.

"What right do you barbarians have to interrupt our meeting?" Ser Kevan demanded.

"Flatlander, did you call us barbarians?" The one-eyed Tymett ignored the knife-like pressure in The Mountain's gaze. He was truly fearless, a man who dared to dig out his own left eye with a white-hot dagger was no ordinary ruthless man. "We are free men, and free men have the natural right to attend all war councils."

"Which one of you is the lion chief?" Chella, wearing the necklace of human ears, asked.

"I guess these two old men are, look at the sigils on their collars, they're both lions," the not-yet-twenty-year-old one-eyed Tymett announced loudly.

Ser Kevan reached for his sword, but Tywin placed two fingers lightly on his wrist. Kevan sat down resentfully, still holding the sword hilt.

Lord Tywin remained calm, as if he wasn't angry at all. His captain of the guard was now struggling to stand up, adjusting his askew lion helmet.

"Tyrion, where are your manners? Quickly introduce these… honored guests."

Tyrion licked his fingers, which still had wine stains from the overflowing cup, not wanting to waste it. "Father, this beautiful girl is Chella, daughter of Cheyk of the Black Ears. Look at the necklace of ears around her neck, those are the ears of those who angered her. Hmm, it seems quite a few people have angered her."

"I'm not a girl anymore, my sons have cut off fifty ears," Chella said proudly.

"May they cut off fifty more," Tyrion staggered to the natives. "This hairy one is Shagga, son of Dolf; this very skinny but not at all easy to mess with person I call Skinny Gunthor; he and Shagga are both of the Stone Crows."

"This is Ulf, son of Umar of the Moon Brothers, this is Tymett, son of Thrym of the Burned Men, the Red Hand. This fellow is the sellsword Bronn, he won't pledge allegiance to anyone, and in the short time I've known him, he's already betrayed twice, he initially chose to serve Lady Catelyn, now he serves me. Father, you should get along well with him. Allow me to introduce my father, Tywin, son of Tytos of House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, Shield of Lannisport, and Hand of the King forever."

Lord Tywin stood up, his dignity and aura naturally radiating, fully deserving of all his titles. "Even far in the West, I have often heard of the heroic deeds of the warriors of the mountain clans of the Mountains of the Moon. Honorable sirs, what wind has blown you from your fortresses to here?"

"I came on horseback," Shagga said.

"The half-man promised us clothes and weapons," the one-eyed Tymett said to Lord Tywin. But his eyes were fixed on The Mountain. In the entire room, Tymett felt that only this big guy was worthy of a challenge.

Tyrion was about to tell his father his idea of ​​'using these barbarians to turn the Vale of Arryn into a smoking wasteland' when footsteps sounded again outside the door. A scout hurried in, the scout glanced quickly at the natives with a strange look, then knelt on one knee in front of Lord Tywin. "Reporting, Lord, Ser Addam Marbrand has asked me to report to you that the Stark army has begun marching south along the causeway."

Lord Tywin Lannister was expressionless. Lord Tywin never smiled, but Tyrion had long learned to observe his father's expressions of joy, and at this moment, that kind of expression was clearly written on his iron face.

"The Old Wolf is nowhere to be found, and the Young Wolf has finally moved," he said in a bland tone, as if saying the weather was average today. "Soldier, go back and order Ser Addam to retreat immediately, and is forbidden to engage the northerners, but I want him to send men to constantly harass the enemy's flanks, luring the Young Wolf south for a decisive battle."

"As you command, Lord!"