The Mountain of Ice and Fire

The Imp felt himself floating in the air, surrounded by white clouds and sunlight. In the distance, he could hear the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore, a muffled rumble.

He looked down and saw himself walking on a forest path, with Jaime beside him, young and handsome, with an enchanting smile and a longsword at his hip. Back then, young Jaime didn't use a gilded sword, but the one he had was made by the best smith in Casterly Rock. It was incredibly sharp and radiated a chilling aura.

The Imp walked ahead, humming "The Maid of Summer."

The Imp flying in the sky looked at his own short arms and legs. The dwarf was young, carefree, and full of spirit. Suddenly, a girl's cry for help came from ahead, along with the lewd laughter of two men.

The Imp saw himself run. He knew he was fearless because Jaime was with him. Sure enough, Jaime drew his sword and drove away the two large mercenaries. They saved the commoner's daughter, and the Imp told Jaime to take off his coat and put it around the girl. This girl's name was Tysha.

Tysha fell in love with the Imp, and the Imp fell in love with Tysha. The two joined together in an inn and officially became husband and wife. Then, his father suddenly kicked the door open and barged in, telling the Imp that Tysha was actually a prostitute. She knew the Imp's identity as a Lannister, and she was only there to swindle him out of his money.

His brother Jaime testified beside his father, saying that the two mercenaries who harassed Tysha were deliberately arranged by him. The Imp believed his brother's words; his brother never deceived him.

"There is no true love in this world," Lord Tywin asserted to the Imp. "Especially for a dwarf. They approach you, like you, and love you, not because of love, but because you have gold."

The Duke had the Imp watch from the side as he called in a company of soldiers to line up and take turns with Tysha. Each soldier paid afterward, a silver stag, which was not a low price, exceeding the price of many prostitutes in Casterly Rock. In the end, the money in the plate could no longer fit, and it flowed from the plate to the ground.

Finally, the Duke had the Imp, who had been watching from the side, go last with Tysha, because he was a Lannister, so he wanted the Imp to give Tysha a gold coin.

The Imp didn't know why he was floating in the air. He looked at himself, at Tysha, at his father and Jaime. He felt very confused. Two Imps, one on the ground, one flying in the sky. Tysha, Tysha, the person the Imp truly loved, why did Tysha have to deceive him? Even though she was a prostitute, she was also the Imp's legal wife.

When he looked down again, Tysha smiled at him, but it wasn't Tysha, it was Cersei. The Imp was dumbfounded. Suddenly, Cersei's face blurred, and the Imp stared intently. That face wasn't Cersei either, but Mandon Moore.

Mandon Moore had dead fish eyes, a snow-white robe, and snow-white enameled armor. He suddenly drew his longsword and slashed fiercely at the Imp floating in the sky. The Imp was shocked, and something hot flowed between his legs. He cried out, opened his eyes, but found that he hadn't made any sound at all.

His head was as heavy as a stone, so heavy that he couldn't move it at all; his face hurt terribly, as if the Mountain was punching him with gauntleted fists, one punch after another. His whole body felt as if it was pressed under a giant rock, and he couldn't move at all. The outline of the bed vaguely appeared around him.

It felt like a pile of fur and blankets was covering him, it was very hot. He shouted loudly, but found that he couldn't make a sound. He wanted to raise his hand, but his fingers were as heavy as iron.

What's wrong with me? He couldn't concentrate, and the pain on his face numbed his whole body.

Ser Mandon?! He saw those cold eyes again, and a sword light whistled towards him, hitting his face. Fear, like a cold torrent, ran through his body, and he once again felt warm liquid flowing down his legs.

Am I wetting the bed? he thought dizzily. Is this a dream? Isn't this a dream? Is this a dream or reality? Seven Gods save me, the Imp shouted, but he couldn't make a sound: Save me, someone save me. Jaime, Shae, Mother, someone save me… Tysha… the Mountain… Podrick… Bronn…

No one came, and there was no sound. He fell asleep in incontinence.

He didn't know how long had passed before he felt the light again. It seemed like someone was standing at the head of the bed, looking at him. The Imp opened his eyes again. The bed curtains had been pulled open, and Podrick Payne was standing next to him, holding a candle.

When Pod saw Tyrion open his eyes, he looked like a frightened deer. He put down the candle and ran away. The Imp saw that Pod's lips were broken, several teeth were missing from his mouth, and one arm was bandaged and hanging in front of his chest.

No, don't go, save me, save me, he shouted, using all his strength, but he couldn't make a sound, only a very slight hum.

Don't I have a mouth?

He wanted to raise his hand and touch it. This time, his hand raised up, and he touched something hard and stiff where his flesh, lips, and teeth should have been: linen. His face was tightly bandaged, and the congealed plaster mask only left holes for his eyes, nostrils, and a mouth for feeding.

Tyrion finally woke up. His mind was no longer confused, no longer dreaming. His mind was clear and ethereal, still as good as before.

He remembered everything, and he understood what had happened!

Ser Mandon Moore was determined to kill him, because his sister had ordered him to. Ser Mandon's last sword strike was meant to split him in two, just like the Mountain split Stannis. But unfortunately, Podrick had stabbed him in the thigh first with a dagger, and the dagger was still in his leg. Podrick's longsword had then stabbed into his body from the waist, which was fatal. In his dying moment, he gathered all his strength and slashed at the Imp. Although he failed to split the Imp in two, he did cut open his face.

Soon, footsteps sounded, and Podrick, who had seemed to run away in fright, reappeared, followed by a stranger, a scholar wearing a scholar's chain and a gray robe.

A stranger.

"My lord, please don't move," the man murmured. "You are seriously injured. Any movement you make may be detrimental to your body and affect the recovery of your injuries."

Tyrion blinked to indicate that he understood.

Is this scholar reliable? Why isn't it Qyburn? If he guessed correctly, Qyburn should be the Mountain's man, or someone who takes money from both Cersei and the Mountain, just like Lancel, who took money from both Cersei and me—if the Mountain were here, he should feel safer.

When Bronn captured Stokeworth, Lady Falyse escaped, and the only person who could protect her was Cersei. The Imp was worried that Lady Falyse would return under Cersei's protection and retake Stokeworth. The Mountain said that he might be able to try to stop Falyse from returning. As a result, Falyse really disappeared from then on. It was said that Lady Falyse's disappearance was related to Scholar Qyburn. She had been treated by Scholar Qyburn in Maegor's Holdfast. The Imp deduced from this that the relationship between Qyburn and the Mountain was not ordinary.

"My lord, are you thirsty?" the scholar asked humbly.

Tyrion blinked.

Looking at this guy's appearance, he should be afraid of the Halfman's last name, right? Hopefully, he hasn't been bought off by my sister.

Tyrion's entire face was wrapped in thick linen, leaving only his eyes, nostrils, and mouth exposed. He couldn't speak or nod. He really wanted to take a bath and change his soiled pants.

After seeing Tyrion blink, the scholar inserted a curved copper funnel into his mouth through the feeding hole and slowly poured in some liquid. Tyrion had no choice but to swallow it. It was too late when he realized it was poppy milk.

The scholar removed the funnel from Tyrion's mouth, and he quickly fell asleep and entered a dream.

He saw a feast in Maegor's Holdfast, a grand celebration banquet. He and the Mountain sat together on the high platform, and all the courtiers and generals stood up, raised their glasses, and cheered for him and the Mountain, calling them heroes.

Singers played wooden harps, singing of the heroic deeds of the great and small Imps; comedians performed farces, and clowns tumbled on the tables, making exaggerated expressions, causing people to roar with laughter.

He saw his father nodding and smiling at him, his eyes full of praise and approval. He saw Jaime, Jaime walked towards him with a smile. He had Tyrion kneel down, and then he lightly touched each of his shoulders with a golden sword. When he got up, he became a knight of the Seven Kingdoms. Shae was waiting to embrace him. She took his hand and called him the Giant of Lannister…

When he woke up again, it was dark all around, which he disliked the most. He liked to light candles until dawn. Why wouldn't Podrick even leave him a candle?

He moved slightly, and his face hurt as if his flesh was exploding… Ser Mandon… The memory filled him with fear, but Tyrion told himself that he had to face the terrible memory, examine it, greet it, and see through it. Mandon Moore was determined to kill him, he wanted to split the dwarf in half, if it weren't for Pod… Pod, where's Pod?

He stretched out his hands with force, wanting to sit up, but found himself dizzy. The sounds he shouted all turned into vague groans. The room was damp and cold, and he was burning all over.

*

Three days later.

Tyrion lay cleanly in bed.

The bandages on his face were still tightly wrapped, but the ointment and bandages had been changed.

Podrick stayed by his side. Pod's injuries had mostly healed, but his arm fracture still needed to heal. The other skin injuries were much better.

"Where is this?"

"The basement of Maegor's Holdfast. Queen Cersei specially arranged for you to be here."

Queen Cersei, my sister. Tyrion's mouth was full of bitterness. Underneath him was a straw mat, not a feather blanket. The bed was the bed that the servants slept on, not a bed with carvings on the railings.

"Who saved me?"

"Anguy and Captain Erren."

"Did the Mountain call them?"

"After I came out to find you, the Mountain told Anguy and Captain Erren to come out and find you too."

"What about Ser Mandon Moore?"

"He was shot to death by Anguy with an arrow when he was about to slash you a second time."

The Imp pondered for a while: "Who else knows about this?"

"Everyone knows you were injured and attacked, but they don't know that Ser Mandon wanted to kill you. The Mountain ordered me, Anguy, and Erren not to say anything."

"Well done!" the Imp said in his heart.

"What about my dad? Why hasn't he come to see me?"

"The Hand is very busy and doesn't have time to see you. He wants you to go to him after you recover from your injuries if you need anything."

The Hand? That naturally referred to Duke Tywin.

Tyrion smiled bitterly in his heart. His path to becoming the Hand had come to an end.

The war in King's Landing was over, and it was time for those nobles to start dividing the cake. He might die here and live in the moldy basement of Maegor's Holdfast, while the great Duke Tywin didn't even have time to take a look, which made Tyrion want to sing.

"Podrick, what's the name of the scholar who's treating me?"

"Scholar Barrabas."

"Who sent him?"

"Her Grace the Queen."

"Oh, my sister has always cared about me since she was little. But I don't want him, I don't want Scholar Barrabas, I want Qyburn."

"I have no right to bring Scholar Qyburn to you, my lord. Scholar Barrabas doesn't even allow me to be here talking to you."

"Tell him to get lost. I only want you. Also, I don't want poppy milk, that stuff isn't good."

"But you need poppy milk to sleep, my lord."

"Give me wine."

Podrick shook his head: "My lord, I can't give you wine. I don't have the authority. Scholar Barrabas has the final say here."

"Go find the Mountain."

"The Mountain is also very busy."

"What is he busy with?"

"Many of his officers have made great contributions this time, and the Hand is busy rewarding them as sirs, and knights."

It was well deserved that the Mountain's men were rewarded. Those guys were indeed very fierce in battle. The garrison and the Crownlands army couldn't compare to the Clegane army. The great villain's army was also evil, there was no doubt about that.

"What about Bronn?"

"He was also knighted, as the Knight of the Blackwater."

Podrick's tone was full of envy.

"What about Anguy?" The Imp was very grateful that Anguy had shot Mandon Moore to death at the last moment.

"The Hand approved him to marry Lady Elinor Mooton of Maidenpool and granted him the title of Baron of Maidenpool."

"The Mooton family's territory was given to Anguy?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Anguy is the best archer in the Seven Kingdoms. He has been granted the title of baron and is also a knight, so he is worthy of Lady Elinor Mooton."

"Yes, my lord."

"What about you?"

"I, I'm just a squire," Podrick said sheepishly, becoming very unconfident.

"You are more valiant than many true knights."

Podrick's face turned red, and he twisted his hands, not daring to look at the Imp, his eyes looking at the ground, his gaze flickering.

"Remember, Pod, I don't want Scholar Barrabas, I want Qyburn; I don't want to drink poppy milk, I want to drink wine. You go find the Mountain, and these problems can be solved. Also, forget everything about me and Mandon Moore. That thing never happened."

"It seems that the Hand has heard some rumors."

"No matter what others ask you, you say you don't know, I'll say it!"

"What if the Hand asks me?"

"Don't know anything." The Imp pointed to himself, "Tell them to come and ask me, whether it's the Queen, the Hand, or the King."

"Yes, my lord."

"Go call the Mountain."

"No need to call, I'm here." Outside the door, a rough voice crashed in, echoing boomingly in the dark and damp basement.

The Mountain came in, holding wine in his hand. He was followed by a scholar: Qyburn.

Ke Ben held a slender knife with fine serrated teeth in his hand.