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Histories and Lore of Westoros - House Clegane - Narrated by The Hound

scrunchystark:

In King’s Landing, if you leave the Red Keep and aren’t careful, you may find yourself in Flea Bottom. In such a cesspool did House Seaworth have its glorious start. I got out as soon as I could, finding work on a smuggler’s ship. Soon every port on the Narrow Sea had a bounty on me, which they would collect if I didn’t pay a percentage to the right people or pick the right tides. You know how to tell a good smuggler? When you talk to one, there’s a head that talks back. I was very good.

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scrunchystark:

When Aegon and his dragons burned Harren the Black and all his sons at Harrenhal, the days when men feared the sight of our longships were over. Aegon would not permit mauraders and raiders in his Seven Kingdoms. With Harren died our empire and the old way that forged it. But what is dead may never die. Six years after Robert Baratheon won his crown, my father Balon Greyjoy sought to restore our ancient rights. He declared the Iron Islands independent and himself its king, and sent the Iron Fleet in a daring raid on Lannisport, where they burned the Lannister ships at anchor, making us unchallenged in the Sunset Sea. This was the seed of our undoing. My eldest brother, Rodrik, led a frontal assault on Seagard, a town built to protect the mainland from us. After ferocious fighting beneath the city walls, he was slain by Lord Jason Mallister, and his men defeated. By this time, Stannis Baratheon had brought Robert’s fleet around Westeros and somehow managed to trap the Iron Fleet at Fair Isle, smashing it. Robert’s victory was now all but assured. Yet we made him bleed for each island. Stannis Baratheon captured Great Wyk, the largest of the Iron Islands, and Sir Barristan himself subdued Old Wyk. Robert and Lord Eddard Stark led the main assault against the island of Pyke. They razed the town of Lordsport to the ground before Robert turned his full fury on our family’s stronghold. When they breached the walls, the first through was Thoros of Myr with his ridiculous flaming sword, followed by every minor lord of Westeros hungry for glory. My other brother, Maron, was killed when the siege engines brought down a tower on his head. I was now my father’s only living son and heir to the Iron Islands. When my father saw his cause was lost, he wisely conceded defeat to Robert, who otherwise would have pulled down our castle stone by stone with us in it. As my father said to me then, “No man has ever died from bending his knee.” He who kneels may rise again, blade in hand. He who will not kneel stays dead, stiff legs and all. As it stands, Robert allowed my father to keep his lands and title as Lord of the Iron Islands, King of Salt and Rock, Son of the Sea Wind, Lord Reaper of Pyke. For a price. His last son and heir shipped off to Winterfell as an honored guest. I would eat at the starks’ table and play with the Stark children. And if my father rebelled again, Lord Eddard Stark would take his sword and cut off my head. It would be his duty.

scrunchystark:

My brother, Robert Baratheon had raised the banners of Storm’s End, our ancestral castle, against the Mad King, Aerys. Jon Arryn of the Vale and Eddard Stark of the north stood with him, and Hoster Tully of the Riverlands would join. But their lands were far from ours, and separated by the combined strength of the west, the Reach, and King’s Landing itself. Even Robert’s own lords were against him. It was the hardest choice I’ve ever made. My brother or my king. Blood or honor. Aerys ruled by right of all the lords in Westeros. Everyone knew the price of defiance, but there are deeper, older laws. The younger brothers bows before the elder. I followed Robert. Early in the war, Mace Tyrell’s indecisive victory at Ashford cut Robert off from Storm’s End. Instead of pursuing Robert and risking his record, Mace Tyrell turned east and laid siege to our home. His vast army and navy encircled us and prevented any resupply by land or sea. If a wagon tried to reach us, it was burnt. If a ship tried to land, it was sunk. We were locked in Storm’s End to starve, but Robert commanded me to hold the castle no matter the cost. He could ill afford to lose his ancient seat which had never fallen. While Robert smashed Rhagar on the Trident, my men ate the dogs, because the horses had already been devoured. While the Lannisters sacked King’s Landing, we ate the rats. If the smuggler Davos had not slipped through the Tyrell blockade with his onions, we’d have eaten our own dead. But I held the castle until Lord Eddard remembered us and marched to lift the siege. The Tyrells didn’t even put up a fight. And Robert threw a feast to celebrate Lord Eddard’s victory. I was sent to the royal island stronghold of Dragonstone to deal with Viserys and Daenerys, the last surviving Targaryen children. Before I arrived, however, they escaped across the narrow sea. Robert was furious. He stripped me of Storm’s End and gave it to that prancing fool, Renly, my younger brother. I could keep Dragonstone. Now, Robert is dead and a bastard pretender soils my throne while the realm fills with schemers and traitors. But the rightful king is coming for them all. And I will not stop until I have scoured this land clean of abomination. The Baratheons say, “Ours is the fury.” I will show them fury burns.

(via deisegal)

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