PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@mounthardt
He waited until she had stopped moving, then moved closer and placed his head above hers, rubbing his chin onto her hair. One arm extended and wrapped around the covers to keep her close, even though he did not think that she would try to flee. Ser Gregor emitted a deep, content growl before closing his eyes to sleep.
“I won’t have to.” Ser Gregor stated simply. His men were loyal to the bone, just as the knight who had trained them on the lands that belonged to him. The Mountain was a bannerman for Lord Tywin, yet the boy who wanted to be king in the North seemed to try to break his loyalty - a loyalty that ran in the knight’s blood for generations.
The young man was confident, that much Ser Gregor could see. Yet he seemed to feel stronger than he was, as his words showed that Robb Stark was sure of winning the game he had entered without being experienced in battle beforehand. Maybe the Mountain was Tywin Lannister’s mad dog, but that doesn’t mean a dog wouldn’t learn his part during his training. And both Clegane brothers had been trained their whole life to fight for their Lord, which led to Gregor’s unique reputation. His strength and size was not the only trait, though the most apparent. Ser Gregor had fought many battles before this day, seen more men die than the boy before him ever will, yet what the young Stark did not seem to know is that the Mountain that rides had led numerous battles in the past, successfully overwhelming the ones that opposed the king.
“Which knight is not?” Ser Gregor asked after Robb had made his point, ignoring the threat that had followed. He knew better than to retaliate, as forcing a fight in this moment certainly was a bad idea. “But there is no one to replace me.” he snarled, sure that no man in Westeros could compare to him.
Gregor groaned at the kiss on his hip, before she finally began to do as he pleased. The feeling of her tongue was good, but once he felt his cock inside of her mouth the Mountain looked downwards with hungry eyes, nodding slowly. He met her gaze before adding pressure to the hand with which he held Alana’s head, pushing his length further down her throat. The knight growled and grunted in pleasure, quickly feeling his manhood harden.
When he released her, she didn’t seem to be angry, but instead didn’t stop yet and afterwards even smirked at him. Ser Gregor bared his teeth, then rolled the hand inside her hair into a fist, slightly pulling her towards him. If she liked a rough treatment, he was happy to give her that.
“The keep is yours when I’m away. You can do what you want.” Gregor said, then walked towards the bed. “We should rest now.” he added. The ride that was ahead of them would be long and exhausting. Nonetheless, once he was laying on the sheets that were still slightly bloody, the Mountain observed Dany’s every move with hungry eyes and waited for her to join him.
Gregor grinned and chuckled at the description of the ale, which fit the brew’s taste indeed. He was used to strong brewery, but the North had to work with what they could get their hands on, so they could only hope that the taste would be bearable - or at least the knight assumed that to be true.
He continued to listen, then laughed roughly. “My father told me only cunts name their swords.” Ser Gregor said, clearly amused. From what he had heard of Eddard Stark, the Lord Commander’s father seemed to be the opposite of his own. He did not train his boys to be weapons for the Lannisters, but he also had been the Lord of a noble house.
After the man had gone quiet, Ser Gregor drank some more of the Watch’s ale, only to notice that this sip did not taste as bad as the last one. It was still far from pleasant, yet not a disgusting as the first time he tasted it.
Then, the Lord Commander spoke again, and he stopped contemplating the taste of an ale that he would likely not have to drink again. Instead, he received compliments - a rare thing to get, unless they came from the mouth of the men he was ordered to kill. In the latter case, those would go as far as comparing him to a god. Of course they would not alter his mission, as Gregor Clegane was loyal to the bone.
“Stay with you?” the Mountain echoed, mustering Jon Snow in disbelief. “I would never speak the vow.” he honestly replied then. Gregor Clegane would never give up his keep and lands, as they were the only thing he had left. The only hope at continuing their legacy and not to be forgotten. His brother Sandor’s betrayal had been grave, but now only Gregor could rightfully plant heirs. Nonetheless, the offer was tempting indeed. Fighting an enemy many were afraid to even believe in existing would add to the many tales that were told about the Mountain, which would strengthen his reputation. He met the young man’s eyes, and then slowly began to speak. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t stay.”
WOW GREGOR. WOW. @sermountain
I assume that it’s been to your liking, princess?
Ser Gregor’s brows furrowed in anger at the question, but he did not let the other taunt him that easily. He continued to listen and allowed the bottle to be taken from his hand, watching the young man as he drank. The look on his face caused the Mountain to laugh out.
“They do because you’re one of them.” he said, leaning in closer. He took the bottle back and drank plenty of what was left, then faced the so-called King in the North again. “You’re a soldier, not a king.” the knight growled. “You have no power over me.”
He leaned back and tried to ignore the noise, that now carried a voice of doubt with itself. Gregor thought about the young kings words, and what he said was not far from the truth. Yet, he was not a traitor. The Mountain was not a failure like the Hound. He had sworn his allegiance, and it eould not be broken by the offers of a boy fighting his first battle.
Ser Gregor had been in no immediate hurry to leave the capital, yet the thought of returning to the keep together with his new wife pleased him. He returned to the room after cleaning himself, then ordered servants to prepare the steed for leaving before opening the door and walking back in. A slight smile crossed his face at the view of Arya, who seemed indeed ready for departure. He put on his leather, then gestured her to follow.
When arriving at the stables, his stallion was waiting for them. The Mountain swung himself into the saddle with ease, then looked down and extended a hand. They were still in the capital, and Gregor would want her near him to prevent any attempts of escape. “Come.” he grunted, ready to lift her up and place her in front of him.
✘;; — O P E N .
❛ EVERYONE AROUND ME DIES,–❜ she proclaims,
❛ –everyone but ME. ❜
Ser Gregor made his way over to the source of the voice he had heard, only to find it to be a little girl. He looked down at her through black eyes, mustering the dirty clothes that made her look like smallfolk, living on the mercy of commoners and nobles alike - always hoping for a coin or two to be given to them out of pity.
“Haven’t heard that yet.” the huge knight grunted and sat down on a bench, still towering over the one he was speaking to. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion about the statement, as he was used to pleas for mercy, but not to this. “Who are you?” the Mountain asked, making no attempt to reach for the pouch attached to his belt in which he carried his coin.
I bet we could do a lot of crack. Well, I know I could.
REMATCH. RIGHT HERE. RIGHT NOW.
Can’t say no to that offer, can I?
YOU CAN
Convince me to.
I bet we could do a lot of crack. Well, I know I could.
REMATCH. RIGHT HERE. RIGHT NOW.
Can’t say no to that offer, can I?
The knight licked his lips slowly, almost threateningly, as more of her skin became apparent. Even though she was taller than all girls Gregor had seen so far, her features had not grown into proportion. His gaze lingered on her breasts for a moment, then traced further downwards, enjoying the discomfort she clearly expressed.
The Mountain let out a rough laugh at the challenge and rose from the water as well, coming to stand near her at his full height, making no attempts to cover any part of his body. The Maid of Tarth was muscled as a knight and would easily overcome most normal men, though it was clear that she had realized her boldness could be dangerous at times, once the huge knight looked down at her.
“I might. Heard you’re still a maiden.” Ser Gregor said with a smirk. He would love to face her in full armor, to crush her desperate attempts at fighting back against him, only to admit defeat in the end. But breaking her on the battlefield was her wish, not his, and he had no intentions to respect that - much rather he would break her in her own chambers, make the fighter submit to the Mountain in a much more disgracing way.
✍️ I, Cedric Stark of Winterfell, hereby swear allegiance and total loyalty to Ser Greger Clegane. I will obey his orders and be rewarded for it. I am aware that disobeying him will lead to punishment. In return I will be reunited with my brother Robb. and both of you will service Ser Gregor Clegane in whatever way he pleases.
send ✍️ + a message for cedric to write it || unfortunately accepting
And with this, the second pet wolf is mine.
Sandor x Hearth
The ship is my: Well it’s canon, an integral part of Sandor’s story. OTP
I consider this ship’s feelings: Mutual | Mixed | Strange | Awkward | Platonic | Sibling-like | One-sided | They don’t really like each other |
I’d consider the relationship: Healthy | Awkward | Abusive | Doesn’t work properly | They’d never get together |
Children: No | Yes | They’d think about it
General Opinion: It’s such a fiery ship, with love so hot it burns
my ABUSE isn’t poetic. it was not JUSTICE or necessary. the earth left me to die and there is no such thing as KARMA. the gods watched IDLY BY as i was killed in that house
and not a damn person tried to HELP ME
&&. SECXNDSTARK
