The Mountain vs. the Goat
Disclaimer: none of these characters is mine whatsoever.
...And so it came to pass that lord Tywin Lannister sent the Mountain, also known as Ser Gregor Clegane, to kill Vargo Hoat of the Mummers (also known as the Goat).
"You really shouldn't have done that," the other Clegane brother, Sandor, commented to lord Lannister. "Brother dear really doesn't fair well on these outdoor trips, unsupervised."
"I really don't care," Lord Tywin Lannister replied. "I really just need him away from Kings' Landing while my family stops coming up with some crazy ideas of theirs – and your brother is just the Mountain enough to do it."
"What, he can step on the wrong person?" Sandor sarcastically asked. The look that he received in reply was enough for him to stop talking and go away elsewhere, before lord Lannister took him to the pound.
And Ser Gregor... he rode on.
/
After a regular amount of time that is required in GoT universe, the Mountain arrived at one of lord Bolton's strongholds and knocked on the door in his usual manner.
"Yes – Ser?" asked the man, who opened the door while quaking in his boots. "What do you want?"
"Where is Vargo Hoat?" Ser Gregor bellowed.
It probably should be noted that while Ser Gregor did not really have any emotions towards the human race, his relationship with horses was something else: he hated to ride on them, for they were too small for him, and they hated to be ridden by him, for he was too large for them. Despite the inequality of the two sides, both Ser Gregor and the horses hated each other to an unusual extent and were secretly fighting a cold war of attrition, which would end only when there were no horses or Mountains left alive in all of Seven Kingdoms... The point was that after a reasonably long time spent in company of a horse, Ser Clegane was even more irritable and impatient than the usual.
"Where is Vargo Hoat?" he bellowed again.
"He's, um, in the stronghold to your right," the other man bleated and shut the door. The Mountain kicked it down, listened to the squeals that came from the other side, and left.
/
When the Mountain came, or rather rode, up to the stronghold number 2, he was in an even fouler mood. "Where is Vargo Hoat?" he roared from the outside, without bothering to knock on the door – he did not have to, the power and volume of his voice alone was enough to send the men inside scurrying to the walls looking out.
"V-Vargo? He and the Mummers aren't here – they're there," one of the men pointed in the direction behind the Mountain.
Instinctively, the Mountain turned, and behind him, in the distance, were two signal fires, signifying two strongholds – one directly behind him, one more to the right.
Snarling something illegitimate under his breath, the Mountain turned around and moved on.
After about two hours, he remembered that he should have been riding a horse. That was really the next to last straw.
The Mountain was about ready to blow his top.
/
The new stronghold that he arrived at was less of a stronghold and more of fortified building, mainly of wood, rather than stone.
"Where is Vargo Hoat?" the Mountain's voice was basically an inhuman screech in the wind.
"He was never here, you can find him down there," one of the unlucky souls pointed in the direction behind the Mountain and to his right.
The Mountain looked that way, thought about it for some time, realized that apparently he was going around in circles and in vain, and that was the last straw.
In a fit of volcanic rage, the Mountain just blew his top.
/
Some time later, after his rage has cooled, and the smoke had dispersed, and the fires died out amongst embers, and blackened boards, and logs, and bones, the Mountain was walking home. Yes, walking for this time he was deliberately moving on foot. Yes, deliberately, and not just because all horses, dogs, birds, cats, rats and every other living creature (including some humans) were able to escape while the Mountain had his meltdown, no sir!
And so the Mountain went back south. And because this story is something of an AU, not canon, the Mountain walked into a swamp, rather than a forest, a cliff, a shore, a coast, a town or whatever else the North of the canon universe has. Normally, for a heavy-armored and horseless knight, this would have been the end, but the Mountain was unstopped and straightforward – and so he moved on.
/
"Where in Seven Hells have you been?" declared lord Tywin, as he and Sandor were discussing the marriage of Tyrion and Sansa Stark.
The Mountain thought.
"...in the North," he finally spoke, in the voice that stones and ores, trapped within the depths of other mountains, use to speak to mortal men.
Lord Lannister thought it over.
"And did you kill Vargo Hoat? Did he suffer?" he asked in his patient voice.
The Mountain thought some more.
"He won't be responding any time soon," his brother, Sandor, the animal to Gregor's mineral, spoke to lord Lannister instead. "I've seen him in this state before; he'll stay like this for hours, if not days – he won't respond to anyone."
"Oh?" lord Lannister spoke. Anyone intelligent would have realized that that was the time to shut-up – Sandor Clegane did not.
"Yes, and besides, what do you care? You just wanted him out of the city while your son marries the Stark girl," he continued.
"Did I?" Tywin asked, as he walked over to the royal scepter – because it was not a regular part of the kings' regalia in the Seven kingdoms, king Joffrey often forgot to keep track as to where it, and the orb, (another largely ceremonial and pretty piece, to be sure), were, as he did now. But ceremonial or not, the scepter could be also used as a mace, and this was how lord Tywin used it as against Sandor.
"Bad Hound, bad, bad hound!" he yelled, as he chased the knight all over the castle. "Go to you kennel!"
And as Sandor fled, howling, and Tywin pursued, roaring, and the braver servants and eunuchs tried to interfere to save the royal scepter from further abuse, the day of Tyrion and Sansa's wedding ended on a livelier note – but that is another story.
And the Mountain? He stood there, trying to figure things out, for a while, until prince Oberyn arrived and challenged him – but that is another story.
End