Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

Chapter 111: ' The Great Lion ' Part II

POV: Duncan;

Lord's Solarium, Casterly Rock.

Immediately after an Old Lion turned around...

Tywin continued to stare in silence at the treasure of his ancestors. An object worth more than the fortune left in the boundless coffers of Casterly Rock.

My high perception alerted me to an unseen presence. An unknown force that could only come from that magical object.

It wasn't as threatening as it had been at first. Of course, it was only a guess, but perhaps that object was attuned to the mood of the most direct progenitor in the Podrick Lann dynasty.

It would have made sense... But, though old and unarmed, my sixth sense warned me not to move a single finger against the Lord of Casterly Rock.

Tywin spoke...

"Before I give you my answer, Duncan of House Tallhart, answer these three questions...

Are you and that protector of yours, The Watcher, protecting and helping to hide Aegon, Rhaenys, and Elia Martell?" Tywin's head turned just enough to allow him to look me in the eye.

"My master, The Watcher and his organization had no role in this matter. Instead, I, and I alone, keeping any other member of House Tallhart in the dark, have acted in the shadows to safeguard Elia and her children.

House Martell, six years ago, was able to save members of the royal family because I tipped them off to your possible attack on King's Landing." I answered truthfully.

Both Tywin's eyes and the supernatural presence behind him roared irritation and anger.

"Where are they hiding?" Tywin shot back immediately after the second question.

"You'll never find out from me. Even if you unleashed all the worst torture dogs in the West on me, I still wouldn't talk."

Tywin took his time turning to face me with all the new power he had gathered so far.

The Lion had such a powerful, intimidating presence that he could have faced even me and an armed army behind.

I gritted my teeth and anchored my feet to the ground. I fought that immense aura that wanted to force me to bend the knee and obey any order the undisputed King of the Jungle gave.

That was just a taste of the true Power of the Dynasty of Kings!

I was aware that this no-longer-dormant artefact could unleash oppression several times more oppressive and suffocating if it really wanted to.

The gale lasted for a few seconds before dying down...

"Betrayal and boundless disappointment... This will await you if you allow strangers who do not share the same blood as you to pursue your goals.

Expect no less from your own bishops, your comrades in arms, or those you love.

I would not hesitate for a moment to turn my back on you if I thought that would be best for House Lannister. I might even use you as a shield and weapon to weaken my enemies and tear apart what's left of both of us.

Under that, Duncan Tallhart, Heir of Torrhen's Square, and Protector in the Shadow of the North...

Why would you wish to form an alliance with me to grant me the resources and means to destroy you and all you hold dear?"

I lowered my gaze and thought...

I wasn't looking for the best answer but the one I felt I wanted to give.

I walked over to the table and grabbed a white object made of ox bone.

I opened the box with the magnetic needle inside and said:

"A compass shows you where North is. You know in which direction to go through it, but it doesn't tell you the dangers that this direction could hide. Swamps, rocky paths, deserts, bandit-infested forests, enemy territories, or anything that might obstruct your path...

Maps, sturdy horses, storm-proof ships, weapons, antidotes, provisions and endless supplies are nothing more than necessary means to help you survive and get farther. But if a pioneer explorer wants to reach the summit, to go to the place nobody has ever reached before, he will need the most valuable and necessary help of all... Companions."

I put down my compass and fixed my gaze on the Lion.

"Speaking frankly, we both know that we need each other's help, but forced choices do not exist.

I could approach this journey with other methods by convincing and tricking false allies and enemies into paving the way for me. And perhaps I might even succeed, but then what? What would be left? I would reach that treasure alone and become what I once swore I would never become.

Because at the end of the day the best treasure in the world remains and will forever remain the light in the face of your companions the moment they realize that the summit is reached. That all the joint efforts, the sufferings endured, the sacrifices spent, and the vain foolish hopes on which they had clung have been repaid.

All the victories I have achieved in the past, all the goals I have reached, would not have been possible without the effort and sacrifice of my comrades who believed in me, even entrusting me with their lives in their hands.

The Battle of Snow Mill was the day I realized that truth.

The faces of those soldiers loyal to House Tallhart, the sparkling eyes filled with joy and hope of the villagers... Nothing was brighter than that moment.

I choose House Lannister and the man who leads it, because they are the best traveling companions I could hope to have on this path overflowing with the worst horrors known to mankind.

I want by my side the man who more than anyone else on this continent has approached the summit, facing the worst pitfalls and struggles that would have destroyed the best, and who though defeated and wounded, has come out whole and stronger than before.

That is the man with whom I want to reach the summit and share the most precious treasure.

You may continue to convince me for years that you are no longer that man, Tywin of House Lannister, but we both know that is not the truth." The last statement enraged the Lion almost to the breaking point.

Tywin clenched his fists and gritted his teeth almost to breaking. With one last indignant roar he asked:

"Why?... Why?! Why do you keep insisting? Why don't you give up? Give it up, boy! I'm not the person you're looking for!"

"Don't you realize that yet?" I asked, reducing him to silence.

"I already won this battle several minutes ago." Tywin's gaze gushed with shock and confusion.

"The exact moment you stopped me, my lord.

You were not warning and protecting, Duncan of House Tallhart, a foolish and naive boy too young to play the most brutal and ruthless game in the world, not the honor of your name and your House who owed a favor to the other that had helped them in the past, but that tiny spark inside you that still believes in that dream.

You defended and still defend the dormant Lion within you.

The True Lion is roaring and tearing with all his strength the fragile cage that still persists in keeping him locked up.

It is useless to hide it or deny it. That Lion is desperate to get out.

Even now I can feel the immense will and the immense blood lust impatiently waiting to be satisfied.

Therefore, my lord, it is I who must ask you:

Why don't you give up, Old Lion?

Get off the fucking Throne and give the True King of the Jungle the place he deserves.

The World needs The Great Lion to watch over us all again."

End POV.

---------------------------------

POV: Gregor Clegane.

Behind the door of the Solarium, Casterly Rock.

About a minute before three questions were answered....

Gregor uncorked another bottle of poppy milk and gobbled up its entire contents.

It wasn't the pain of the devastating migraine he needed to quell, but the unrelenting rage that could have driven him mad at any moment....

His faithful hunting dogs Polliver, Tickler, Shitmouth, and Rafford remained silent and cowering, avoiding even the most imperceptible of signs to him.

From the day Gregor crushed the windpipe of 'visceral' Papper, one of the former members of the Mountain's men, because he snored too much, none of them dared to make an unsolicited sound. Especially during the period when The Mountain was suffering from one of his terrible migraines.

His former maester, in the service of his manor, had explained to him that the headaches might be due to a problem with gigantism....

Two moons later, a new young maester arrived to take up service at Clegane Castle.

Gregor was taking one bottle of poppy milk a day, at a minimum. An amount that would have laid a common adult man to sleep for a day and a night.

Only in case he could give vent to his murderous impulses did Gregor go without.

At that moment, after that insect had dared to mock him, Gregor felt a fury he hadn't felt for years. Ever since that day in King's Landing when he failed to find the Targaryen brats...

He wanted to crush the legs and arms of that Northern brat, breaking them like dry twigs. But, instead, he felt the need to hear him scream and beg for mercy!

However, Gregor was aware enough to realize that such an event was not feasible as long as that being was under the fucking protection of Casterly Rock's laws of hospitality.

Tywin Lannister was the only individual who could make Gregor feel anything approaching the term 'fear'...

He would have killed that old man as well if it weren't because, even after he managed to escape the hounds of the West, and lost all privileges in his own territory and in the Kingdom, nowhere else in the World would have welcomed him.

The bounty on his head would have been so great that endless oceans of insect swarms would have stalked him through the meanders of the World.

No...he was Tywin Lannister's rabid dog. And as long as he continued to be so, his master would reward him with bloody juicy steaks.

If he continued to respond to Old Lion's whistle, no other pesky animal would keep him from enjoying his private hunting grounds.

The thick oak door closed behind him prevented him and the other guards from understanding what was happening there.

He had recognized the roars of the Old Lion a few moments earlier, but it was not the call of the whistle. So he couldn't intervene yet.

Luckily for him, he had also distinctly heard another extraneous tone of voice shouting... The Old Lion's guest didn't seem so welcome anymore.

Perhaps an opportunity would have presented itself if that reckless little boy had committed one misstep.

But for the moment, he had to wait and be patient...

The black-haired servant girl in the Lord's direct employ was waiting just a few steps away from him...

Maybe by asking him 'nicely' and with a silver bag to sweeten the request, he could have fun that night with that pretty and fragile little bitch...

A ravenous and animalistic impulse of desire, accompanied by an involuntary and liberating snort, gushed from Gregor's eyes, attracting the girl's attention.

The expectant woman began to shiver, turning away.

He had to contain himself... he couldn't let her prey run away already.

At that moment, the carnal and primitive desires of the man were broken by a sound.

The most melodious and sweetest sound in the World...

"GREGOR!" was Lion's roar of call.

The giant black hound responded promptly. He pushed open one of the heavy, gold-lacquered oak doors as if nothing had happened.

As he entered, Clegane peered at an unexpected scene...

The Old Lion and the prey were comfortably seated in their respective seats. But then, the brat turned around, giving him a defiant look of challenge and derision.

ARGH!!! I'M GONNA RIP YOU APART, YOU ROTTEN PIECE OF MEAT!!!!' Gregor shouted inwardly, almost making his head explode.

"I am at your command, Lord Tywin!" said Gregor in a thundering voice, ready for the charge at any moment.

The Old Lion gave him a mild contempt as if all this impetuosity was unwelcome.

"Send in the porters with my guest's gifts. After that, go find my brother Gerion. Tell him to report here as soon as possible and to bring all our records with him: documents of trade routes, sea maps, territorial maps, and those of Lannisport. You may go." It was an overbearing, unexpected, and downright irritating slap!

Gregor thought he could drag that hairy brat off a good part of his scalp, but instead, he found himself holding messenger orders in his hands.

He hadn't been called for his 'expertise' simply because he was the closest guard within earshot...

Every muscle fibre of the giant man vibrated; fortunately, the armour seemed to conceal his frenzied state.

"Onylla! Captain Webel!" The angry screams in Gregor's head nearly covered his master's second call.

The servant girl and the Captain passed Gregor by bowing to the Lord.

"Onylla, have the kitchens bring in various dishes and refreshments. We will have lunch here.

Captain, dismiss the guard and leave five trusted men at the beginning of the corridor. After Gerion and the attendants have arrived, no one else is to pass through except for matters of utmost urgency.

I do not wish to be disturbed until nightfall." Ordered the Lion.

"Yes, my lord," replied in unison, the man and the woman taking their leave with another bow in his loyal service.

The whole scene passed like a mere blink of an eye for Gregor.

The green eyes with provocative silver tinges of that inferior being continued to incite him to lose the control.

"Ser Gregor..." the roar detached his murderous gaze from eye contact.

"Did you not hear my instructions by any chance? Do I need to repeat them to you, Ser?" Lion asked in a sarcastic, annoyed tone.

Gregor's untamed fury took over just enough to ignore the Master's second call momentarily.

The Lion stood up.

At that moment, the Riding Mountain, the giant Mad Dog of battle and Terror of the West, sensed him...

An immense feeling of oppression overcame him, breaking his breath.

He had already been several times in that solarium in the presence of Lord Tywin... It was in that place that, several years ago, he decided to follow the Old Lion forever, discarding any idea of possible rebellion.

The feeling of danger and domination that he felt almost ten years ago was nothing but a miserable summer breeze compared to that relentless winter blizzard!

His animalistic instincts barked that this being in front of him was not the guarded Old Lion he thought it was.

It was a predator much bigger and stronger than he was!

{SUBMISSION}

Nothing but submission! That was the only way to get out of that room alive.

Every bit of survival instinct he had in his body helped him clear his thoughts and regain his sanity.

Rivers of cold sweat soaked the first layer of padding of his armour.

"Y-yes, my lord. It will be done... I beg your pardon, Lord Tywin."

The mad dog bent down on all fours at the roar of the Fierce Insurmountable Great Lion.

*****

End Chapter.

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