Gregor knelt on the floor, which was covered by a threadbare carpet so worn that its original colors were unrecognizable, and its patterns faded.
Opposite him, across a battered wooden table, sat an old figure whose face and gender were impossible to discern. The person's tangled, gray hair completely obscured their face.
The table was cluttered with countless jars and bottles, each labeled with names of strange medicines. Behind Gregor stood Lord Gawen and Lady Jeyne, neither of whom could read the inscriptions, an unfamiliar script that resembled the writing from Westeros but was distinctly different.
The room was thick with a strange medicinal odor that even made Jeyne, who had some knowledge of medicine, furrowed her brow in discomfort. Gawen took out a handkerchief to cover his nose.
Jeyne's carriage waited just outside the door, guarded by eight Westerling family retainers. They were in a remote, impoverished part of town.
Nearby was a garbage dump used by the local residents. Although there was a drainage ditch, it hadn't been cleared for a long time and was clogged with sludge and trash. Thankfully, it hadn't rained recently, or the whole place would be flooded with filth.
This was a street where poor folk lived. No matter how many nobles and merchants filled Lannisport, the poor always seemed to be like rats, found everywhere.
Lord Gawen had a vague suspicion about the identity of the mysterious old person behind the medicine bottles. Jeyne, glancing back at her father, saw the same uncertainty mirrored in his eyes. Both of them suspected, but neither dared be sure.
After all, Gawen hadn't seen or heard from this elder in sixteen years. Jeyne had never met this person in her life, only overhearing stories from her mother and uncle.
"Grandmother." Gregor said cautiously in a soft voice. "I am Gregor Clegane. I have come with my fiancée, Jeyne Westerling, and her father, Lord Gawen Westerling, to see you."
The humility in Gregor's tone stunned both Jeyne and Gawen. They had never heard Gregor speak so respectfully. The fearsome, domineering man they knew was completely gone, before this ragged old figure, he seemed like a well-behaved child.
Gawen wanted to turn and flee but forced himself to stay. Gregor wielded an invisible power over him.
The old figure sitting opposite made no sound, appearing to be asleep. Just as Jeyne's nausea worsened from the strange smell in the room, the elder moved.
A skeletal, withered hand emerged from the ragged robe and picked up a discolored bone needle, sharp and thin like a medical lancet used by maesters.
The speed of that eerie bony hand was so fast that neither Gawen nor Jeyne saw clearly. The needle pricked the back of Gregor's hand resting on the table.
A bead of blood welled up.
Both Gawen and Jeyne gasped, but Gregor did not flinch.
The old hand withdrew slowly, the needle tip stained with Gregor's fresh blood.
The elder pushed back the matted hair from their face, revealing a toothless, sunken, dry mouth. The bone needle was placed inside, and a long tongue flicked out to lick away the blood.
"Gregor Clegane." the elder spoke, her voice that of an aged woman.
"Yes, Grandmother." Gregor replied respectfully.
"If you go east, you will die by fire."
The words confused Jeyne and Gawen, but they sent a shock through Gregor's whole body.
He knew exactly what awaited him if he stayed in Westeros. He had already planned a fallback, to dig gold and become rich, then flee east. But the old woman's words suddenly reminded him of a greater enemy waiting across the Narrow Sea: Daenerys Targaryen, luckier than anyone, almost like she had cheat codes.
Daenerys was the posthumous daughter of King Aerys Targaryen, the "Mad King" whom Lord Tywin served faithfully for twenty years. In the year 283 Aegon's Reckoning, Aerys was stabbed in the back by his own Kingsguard, Jaime Lannister, leading to the fall of the capital and the royal palace. Gregor Clegane, known as "The Mountain." and Amory Lorch, "The Poison Scorpion." together slaughtered the palace.
Amory Lorch's sigil was a black manticore on a red field, deadly and cruel, like the man himself. He personally murdered Daenerys's niece, Princess Rhaenys, only four years old, stabbing her over fifty times until she was silent forever.
Tywin Lannister despised Lorch's brutality, thinking it foolish and unrefined. He believed a softer approach, coaxing the child and then delivering the fatal blow gently, was more fitting.
Meanwhile, the other villain, Gregor, had raped Daenerys's sister-in-law, Princess Elia Martell, and smashed the infant Prince Aegon, Elia's son, in the royal nursery against a wall, killing him instantly.
This was the bloody hatred between Gregor and Daenerys, and Daenerys was in the east.
She would grow across the Narrow Sea into an absolute queen. She was the Unburnt, immune to fire, herself a being of flame. She would command three dragons, creatures of fire as well.
The old woman's prophecy was clear: if Gregor went east, he would die in fire.
If Gregor believed her, he would have to abandon his plan to flee east.
The east was also the land of R'hllor, the Lord of Light, the god of fire and shadow.
If Gregor did not die by Daenerys's hand, he might fall to the worshippers of R'hllor. The free city of Volantis was home to the largest known temple of R'hllor, guarded by the militant order called the "Fiery Hand."
Gregor believed in this prophecy. He believed in the mysticism of this world.
Before crossing over, he had been an atheist. But this world truly had gods walking its lands, dragons, and the Children of the Forest, White Walkers and wights in the North.
Gregor had sought out this old woman on purpose. She was a witch, but not just any witch. She was the maternal grandmother of Lord Gawen's wife, Jeyne's beloved grandmother, from the eastern continent of Essos across the Narrow Sea. When young, she married a spice merchant and was brought to Lannisport.
Here in Lannisport, people called her the "Witch Priestess."
She and the spice merchant had a son who wished to abandon trade and become a nobleman, founding the Spicer family.
The Spicers had two children: their son, Rolph Spicer, and daughter, Sybell Spicer.
Sybell married Lord Gawen, and gave birth to their eldest daughter, Jeyne Westerling.
Now, Jeyne Westerling was betrothed to Gregor.
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