The Mountain of Ice and Fire

From afar, the Mountain saw Gendry Baratheon I standing before the bronze gates of the Red Keep.

Many people thronged around the blacksmith king.

The Mountain dismounted Crimson Smoke, handed Julie over to her mother, and strode forward.

The king coming to greet him outside the Red Keep was a sign of respect.

The Mountain dismounting from Crimson Smoke and walking was a return courtesy.

The Mountain dismounted, and the soldiers behind him dismounted one after another.

The cloaks of the Clegane cavalry were red; the cloaks of the City Watch cavalry were gold.

Two teams, following behind the Mountain, approached the gates of the Red Keep.

Gendry saw the familiar Westerlands generals and the officers of the City Watch.

In the crowd, Gendry also saw the banners of the Vale nobles, the banners of the Riverlands nobles, and the banners of the Crownlands nobles.

As Littlefinger had said, Father's prestige was now established.

All this prestige was earned by Father's bloody battles.

The final battle against the White Walkers at Winterfell, Father killed the Night King, winning him the favor and respect of the entire continent, whether commoners or nobles, all regarded him as a true hero.

Gendry turned to look at his master, Tobho Mott.

Perhaps because he had no opportunity to experience other activities and lives from a young age, he had indeed fallen in love with blacksmithing, obsessed with the forging of weapons.

He was indeed a bastard, nameless and penniless, constantly on the run for his life before Father brought him to the Westerlands.

Gendry's mood was complex.

He looked at Littlefinger, the Master of Coin, on his right, who was also looking at him, with that annoying smile still on his face. Littlefinger showed his mischievous smile to everyone else as well, so what exactly was he mocking? Mocking whom? Mocking the whole world?

Closer now, Gendry saw Father quicken his pace.

He went up to meet him.

"Father."

"Your Majesty."

"I saw four dragons." Gendry put Littlefinger's mischievous smile out of his mind, the young man became excited at the mention of dragons, and naturally felt admiration and adoration for his father. Father was indeed remarkable, having them all return, and then he and Princess Arianne Martell went to destroy Daenerys's massive army and brought back two dragons.

Father had created another miracle, he was always creating miracles.

"Your Majesty, the black dragon Drogon is Daenerys Targaryen's mount; the bronze-green dragon is Jon Targaryen's mount. I brought the two dragons back first. Daenerys and Jon have declared their surrender, I have captured them, and Daenerys and all the soldiers loyal to her have submitted."

"Oh, where are they?" Gendry was surprised and delighted. The Mountain capturing Daenerys alive and making her submit was simply fantastic!

The Mountain bringing back the dragons and capturing Daenerys caused the soldiers to erupt in cheers.

The shouts of "Long live the Mountain" rose and fell like the waves of the Blackwater.

When soldiers fought, they were used to shouting long live their lord, or long live their territory. For example, the Northmen, when fighting, would shout long live Winterfell, or long live Stark. The people of King's Landing, when fighting, would shout long live King's Landing, or long live their lord, long live the king, and so on.

The Mountain raised his hand to signal, and the roaring cheers gradually subsided.

The Mountain looked at Gendry: "Your Majesty, the commander of the Redwyne fleet died valiantly in the naval battle, as did seventeen captains and more than fifty knights. But the enemy paid many times the price, and the Dothraki horde has all submitted."

Gendry didn't know how to express his grief for the fallen soldiers: "...Father...they were all true warriors..." the blacksmith boy said dryly.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Royal Navy Commander Wagner Gaal, Iron Islands Governor Earl Goebler, my captain of the guard, Erlin, Joyce, One-Eyed Tima and others are escorting Daenerys and her men back to port. When I left King's Landing to pursue Daenerys, I knew that Lady Jeyne was about to give birth, so I rode the dragon back first. A large number of prisoners are behind, Your Majesty."

"Father, Mother gave birth to a boy. The brother is very big, as strong as you." Gendry said. This was his comfort zone, he knew what to say. Gendry was awkward when it came to comforting the fallen soldiers.

As soon as he mentioned the child, Gendry showed a relaxed smile. He was genuinely happy for his father, and for Lady Jeyne and the newborn life.

"Oh, a boy, he must have given his mother a hard time. Damn, I can't wait to go back and see them."

"Father, I'll go with you."

"Good!"

Gendry, wearing the stag crown, walked into the Red Keep side by side with the Mountain. Gendry had been a blacksmith since he was a child, with strong muscles. In the past four years, he had also become very tall and burly, but walking next to the Mountain, if it weren't for the glittering crown on his head, he would hardly be noticed. In addition to the huge disadvantage in height, Gendry simply didn't have the capital to be noticed in terms of battle achievements, prestige, and honor.

Along the way, the City Watch soldiers, the Kingsguard, and the courtier generals all saluted the Mountain. Even the servants who were trimming the lawn would stop to pay attention to the Mountain.

Perhaps these people were not disrespecting the blacksmith king! Gendry himself was open-minded, but being intentionally or unintentionally ignored by his people and nobles, Gendry still felt uncomfortable. Many noblewomen came forward to greet the Mountain and then suddenly remembered to greet the king as if they had just thought of it.

These women from great noble houses were dressed in noble and decent attire, with exaggerated behavior, sprinkled with perfume, and rouge on their faces, each one as proud as a peacock in full display. Gendry could clearly feel that he was being looked down upon by the noblewomen and ladies. This also made him look down on these pampered and extremely hypocritical noblewomen and ladies in his heart.

In fact, no matter who was next to the Mountain, they could not show enough of their own existence.

Along the way, courtiers of the Red Keep and their wives came one after another, crowding around, vying to talk to the Mountain, inquiring about the details of the battle, loudly cursing Daenerys for destroying guest right, and elegantly expressing congratulations to the Mountain on 'mother and child being safe'.

Gendry felt like an irrelevant dwarf! He looked at Littlefinger, who gave him a mischievous mocking smile. Gendry straightened his back, trying to maintain his demeanor.

Littlefinger walked to the king's side and whispered with a low laugh: "Your Majesty, most of these damned nobles are liars, informers, traitors, oathbreakers, they are despicable, shameless, and hypocritical; and the noblewomen and ladies under their finery are nothing more than mares in heat. If you fancy someone, just tell me, and I can arrange for them to come to the king's bedroom tonight. One, two, or more."

"Get out!" Gendry cursed in a low voice.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Littlefinger was shameless and laughed as he stepped back.

*

In front of the Hand's Tower, it was crowded and impenetrable. The Mountain and the King arrived, and the people parted a way from the middle. All the courtier generals came, with their guards, and the guards held various gifts in their hands.

These guys wanted to congratulate the Mountain on winning a great victory and having a son, but they didn't have to wait in front of the Hand's Tower. But they did so unanimously, for one purpose, to make sure that the Hand saw the gifts they had carefully prepared.

Gendry had never experienced such a hypocritical and disgusting scene, and many of the compliments gave him goosebumps all over his body, making him feel uncomfortable. These knights and noble ladies were saying beautiful words without sincerity, as if the Mountain was their reborn parent, as if the Mountain was their long-lost relative. In the midst of those people's flowery compliments, it seemed that the glory of the Seven Gods was all bestowed on the Mountain alone, making them small and humble to prostrate themselves.

Gendry was an upright and honest blacksmith, and he almost ran away, but he didn't move. He bathed in this flying flattery and accepted the baptism that sublimated his soul.

The Mountain saw the young king's discomfort, he raised his hand, and everyone stopped, looking up, looking at the Mountain with anticipation, as if the Mountain's next heartbeat would sing the most moving song.

"I have returned from a great battle, I am tired, please go back first. I will hold a banquet another day to invite everyone." The Mountain said coldly.

The noble ladies still wanted to speak, but when they made eye contact with the Mountain, they swallowed their words back.

"Your Majesty, please!"

Gendry, whose head was dizzy, admired his father in his heart. In such a chaotic occasion, in front of so many nobles, with one sentence, one displeased expression, and a pair of sharp eyes, these guys all closed their mouths tightly, quietly, as if their lips were sewn up.

Gendry entered the Hand's Tower, and the Mountain followed. On the second floor, Lady Melisandre, Arya Stark, and Lady Dorea Codd were all looking at them with smiles, as if they were very happy about their embarrassment of being surrounded by nobles at the gate.

"Where is my boy?" The Mountain asked.

"In the bedroom, just fell asleep. I can't allow you to disturb him, your voice is too loud." Lady Dorea Codd said bluntly.

"Oh, okay, I'll listen to you, then where is my wife?"

"Upstairs on the third floor, dressing up, she'll be ready soon." Arya smiled.

"She should rest."

"You have returned from a great victory, you have worked hard, she must get up, talk to you, and pour you some wine." Melisandre said coldly. Her eyes were fixed on Arianne Martell beside the Mountain.

Arianne Martell's face did not change.

Melisandre hinted for her to leave, but she refused!

The nobles of the Crownlands, the courtiers in the palace, and the attendants of officers at all levels filed in, lining up to send gifts into the hall. The people in charge of receiving the gifts were Lady Edie, wife of Master Tobho Mott, and Lady Aric, wife of Black Stone, the Mountain's former banner bearer. There were also three little helpers beside the two ladies, Black Stone's son, Dan, who was sixteen years old, Black Stone's daughter, Nina, who was nine years old, and Edie's daughter, Artie Mott, who was ten years old.

All kinds of gifts were piled up like a mountain. In addition to all kinds of large and small weapons made by skilled craftsmen, there were also gold, jade, silver ornaments, clothing, calligraphy, reliefs, tapestries, feathers, ancient books, exquisite glass, simple iron art... all kinds of ingenious things, dazzling... pearls and jade had become ordinary gifts that everyone could take out...

Once in power, they flock to it!

*

Night.

The Maester's chambers.

The history writing room.

Very quiet, except for the occasional cough.

Cough!

A very polite two knocks on the door.

The person knocking on the door did not use force, but in this silence of the night, a small voice seemed very abrupt.

Footsteps sounded in the room.

The footsteps came to the door, opened the door, and a brocade-clad young man stood in front of the door, with short black hair, a burly figure, dark skin, and very bright black eyes.

"Your Majesty!" A faint surprised voice, but not flustered at all, nor with the panic of a courtier.

"Lord Jon." Gendry's breathing was heavy.

"Does Your Majesty have something to ask?"

Jon Connington did not intend to let His Majesty the King enter the room.

"Nothing, just came to see you."

"Oh!"

"Are you not going to let me come in and take a look?"

Jon Connington stepped aside: "Please, Your Majesty."

Gendry walked into the room and turned to look at Jon Connington, whose face was resolute. Jon was peaceful and quiet, but no matter how you looked at his face, it carried a sharp air.

"I heard that you are writing a biography for Aegon Targaryen VI?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Can I ask you to write a biography for me too?"

"Your Majesty, you have a maester who specializes in writing biographies for you."

"I don't like them." Gendry frowned slightly.

"Oh!" A flat response.

"Today, the Hand rode the dragon back, and the whole city is celebrating. All the courtiers, generals, foreign envoys, and court maesters of the entire Red Keep went to the Hand's Tower to congratulate him, but I didn't see you."

"The Mountain doesn't need my congratulations."

"The Mountain saved your life, but you don't seem to be grateful to him?"

"No, I am very grateful to the Mountain. He gave me a chance to fulfill my wish."

"But the Mountain has double happiness, but you didn't even say hello."

"My gratitude is in my heart, not in flattery. I am very poor, and my monthly allowance is only enough for me to drink a little wine, and I can't send any valuable gifts to the Hand."

Gendry's black eyes shone brighter.

"Lord Jon Connington, I have heard my father talk about you, he thinks highly of you, he says you are a very remarkable person, loyal, honorable, upright, brave, resolute, and never kill the innocent indiscriminately. During the Battle of Stonebridge, you could have killed my father Robert Baratheon, but for the sake of the innocent people of Stonebridge, you proposed that both sides ring the bells first, so that the innocent people could hide before fighting. In order not to harm the innocent, you also refused to set Stonebridge on fire."

Jon Connington was silent.

If it hadn't been for his 'pedantry' back then, the Usurper's War could have ended early, and most likely, the Targaryen family would still be sitting on the Iron Throne.

After a long while, Jon Connington said: "His Majesty's father? The late King Robert Baratheon told you about me, when?"

"No, it was Gregor Clegane, the Duke, who told me about this. He is my adoptive father. When I was a blacksmith, he gave me a surname and knighthood. He is the only great noble who truly respects me."

"Oh!"

"Lord Jon, I've encountered a tricky situation. Would you be willing to help me?"

Here it comes!

There's no way His Majesty would come to the Annals Chamber without a reason.

Jon Connington didn't answer Gendry's words.

His Majesty has many advisors around him. Why doesn't he ask any of them and comes here to ask him instead?!

Jon Connington looked at Gendry, his mouth tightly shut.

"I want to yield the Iron Throne to my father, Gregor Clegane."

"Oh!" Jon's eyes lit up sharply. His breathing quickened, and after a cough, he tilted his head back, adjusted his stance, and looked at Gendry with a sharp gaze.

Even when Jon Connington looked at people normally, his gaze was like an awl, intimidating.

"I dined with my father and mother tonight, and when they were seeing me out of the Tower of the Hand, I told my father I wanted to yield the Iron Throne to him. I was met with his stern refusal and rebuke."

"Oh!" Jon Connington's gaze grew even brighter.

Gendry Baratheon looked at Jon and lowered his voice: "Lord Jon, what kind of person do you think Littlefinger is?"

This turn came too suddenly, and Jon Connington was taken aback.