Green: "..."
Green let out a silent sigh. To most of Westeros, the Crag Claw Peninsula was little more than a backwater of savages.
The descendants of the First Men were famed for their strength in battle—born not from nobility or refinement, but from enduring generations of chaos and hardship.
After the Andals swept across Westeros with the Faith of the Seven, only two regions clung to the old ways of the First Men: the North and the Crag Claw Peninsula. Each had endured in their own unforgiving lands, steeped in blood and stone.
Compared to the Peninsula, the vast North was blessed with fortune.
Nearly a thousand years ago, House Stark of Winterfell had crushed the Boltons of the Dreadfort—ending their long rivalry and unifying the North under a single banner.
But on the Peninsula, the First Men had never ceased their endless internal wars—save for rare moments when they united against an outside threat.
On occasion, a great warrior might bring brief peace to the land. Clarence Clegane had been one such man, remembered still in half-whispered tales.
But peace never lasted. Once the hero died, the chaos always returned.
During Robert's Rebellion, the Peninsula's nobles had thrown their lot in with the losing side—and suffered accordingly.
In the aftermath, Jon Arryn and the Vale lords imposed years of economic sanctions and forced isolation, leaving the Peninsula more brutal than ever.
Yet out of that weakness, Green had seen his chance.
The chance to unify the Crag Claw Peninsula under one rule. His rule.
He had no reason to be angered by idle gossip among young noble girls.
Once his campaign in the west succeeded, and the Peninsula bent its knee to him, Green's ambitions would not stop there.
He would expand beyond.
Many houses in the Crownlands had tried to subjugate the Peninsula before—House Mooton of Maidenpool among them.
Maidenpool, lying close to the border, was the perfect stepping stone.
His decision had nothing to do with the young lady of House Mooton—only with the long-standing blood feud between her house and the Peninsula.
Outside the Inn – Nightfall
Mondon Waters sat near the inn, tearing happily into a chunk of roasted meat.
Not far off, Anguy slouched beneath a tree, groaning, "Without wine, I can't stay awake…"
Mondon gave his usual foolish-looking grin.
"You seem just fine," Anguy muttered. "Don't you like wine too?"
He hesitated, then added, "Actually, I guess everyone's gotten used to it…"
Mondon swallowed and shrugged. "Lord's orders. No drink during operations. Everyone moaned about it at first—then they adapted."
Anguy crept closer, whispering, "Does that mean we're heading into battle?"
His voice was hushed, but his eyes shone with anticipation.
Anguy dreamed of knighthood—and for that, he needed glory, and merit. As much as he could earn.
Mondon shook his thick head. "I wouldn't bet on it."
Anguy sighed. "Yeah… this is the Crownlands. And the Queen's with us. Who would dare attack?"
Mondon chuckled, "Anguy, wine dulls your aim. Anything can happen out here. The enemy won't let you go just 'cause you're drunk."
Anguy nodded slowly. As an archer, his hands—and nerves—needed to stay sharp.
"It's just the first few days. Everyone struggles at first. You'll get used to it. There'll be time to drink later—if you live."
That earned a weak smile from Anguy.
He glanced at Mondon. "Why do you suddenly sound so wise?"
Mondon just grinned wider.
Inside the Inn
Green had posted Lannister redcloaks to guard the interior. Outside, the Goldcloaks and his own bluecloaks of House Clegane kept watch.
His inspection complete, Green now sat at a small campfire outside his tent, gazing up at the starlit sky.
Footsteps crunched nearby.
Green's eyes shifted—Jaime Lannister, clad in gleaming silver armor, was walking toward him.
Jaime looked oddly unsettled. He sat across from Green, saying nothing at first.
Green gave him a faint nod, nothing more. We don't exactly get along, he thought.
After a pause, Jaime cleared his throat.
Green didn't need to look—he knew that tone. Here we go again.
Jaime sounded uneasy. "Young Baron… care to talk?"
Green rolled his eyes inwardly. When he wants something, I'm "Young Baron." When he doesn't—"Wildling."
Still, a faint smirk tugged at Green's lips. "Ser Jaime, you seem rather troubled tonight?"
He gestured subtly to a nearby squire.
The lad approached, set down two wooden cups, and poured wine into both.
Jaime took one and sipped. "You seem to understand Queen Cersei's… tastes quite well."
No one understands her better than you, Green thought.
He raised his hands. "What exactly are you asking, Ser Jaime?"
Silence fell between them.
Jaime leaned back, eyes on the stars. "My father used to say—when you're uncertain, listen to the advice of others. Then think hard if it makes sense."
Green raised a hand, showing five fingers.
"Consultation fee: five gold dragons. Or no advice."
True to his Lannister blood, Jaime's emerald eyes flicked with amusement. No hesitation.
The lion smiled, untied his coin pouch, and tossed it across the fire. "Not a coin less."
Green caught it smoothly.
He'd been expecting five. Inside were fifty.
A generous misunderstanding.
He had intended to brush Jaime off—but now, Green sat up straighter.
Northeastern Woods – Crag Claw Peninsula
On the old Clegane lands, beneath the black boughs of the forest, a scout crept behind a wildling sentry.
His short blade pressed silently to the man's throat.
The cold steel made the wildling stiffen. He never got the chance to cry out.
A second later, his throat was cut clean, and he crumpled without a sound.
The woods were deathly quiet.
Whoosh!
An arrow tore through the dark—and struck the scout square in the chest.
He dropped where he stood, eyes wide, breath fading.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh!
Three more scouts fired back instantly, arrows flying toward the source.
"The enemy's ready! Warn Ser Per, now!"
"Aye! Fight to the death!"
"Scouts—fight to the death!"
.
.
.
🔥 The Throne's Last Flame — A Song Forged in Ice and Wrath 🔥
📯 Lords and Ladies of the Realm, heed the call! 📯
The saga burns ever brighter—30 chapters ahead now await, available only to those who swear their loyalty on Patreon. 🐉❄️🔥
Walk among dragons, defy the cold, and stake your claim in a world where crowns are won with fire and fury.
🔗 Claim your place: www.patreon.com/DrManhattanEN👤 Known on Patreon as: DrManhattanEN
Your loyalty feeds the flame. And fire remembers.