The Snow Keep

There have been several inspirations for Harrenhal floating around in my mind as I've been developing & working on The Mountain . One of which is this awesome floor plan pictured here, created by J.E. Fullerton. This was sent to me by a friend & I've tried to stay true to it as I write, so that its possible for a reader to follow Melicent & Gregor around the castle grounds. Clicking on the captions will bring you to more information & photos of the castles. Harrenhal, as I picture it for this story, is not yet truly a ruin, though its been neglected & is falling into disrepair. Furnishings are shabby & threadbare, colors are muted, everything is in need of a good cleaning, and things are starting to crumble, ever so slightly. As far as the grounds, the Godswood is overgrown & the paths are littered with downed trees. The gardens are a bit out of control. The Old Sept is a crumbling ruin. It definitely needs a little love, just like its Lord.

Gregor, The Mountain - Everyone knows who The Mountain himself is based on. Of course he's Ser Gregor Clegane. During a re-read of the series I suddenly thought, wouldn't it be interesting if someone wrote about Gregor and gave him a story of his own, showed another side of him. No one ever did, so I decided to play with the idea more myself. I was also interested in seeing if I could write a long running story, as most of my experience has been in short stories, essays and opinion pieces. This Mountain is based off of the Mountain in the books, as well as Gregor Clegane from Season 1 Game of Thrones, played by Conan Stevens. Who is Lady Melicent? I've had many people ask after reading the fic, is Lady Melly you? Sure, but I think she's only a little bit of me. Aren't all characters a writer writes some element of themselves? Otherwise, how could we know them so well? She is an element of me, I think though, as is my Ser Gregor, and Nella and all the o

by M.J. Snow Sometimes she's numb, and its good. She laughs sometimes, and that's good too. She's almost forgotten what it felt like. Sometimes she cries, but sometimes she can't. Then she goes and hides, curled up in bed and dreams the dream again, and remembers ... She lay under him, on her stomach and watched the blood drip onto the clean white sheets. Otis Redding was singing in the background, 'These Arms of Mine". One of his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back, bending her backwards, the other twisting her right arm behind her back. He would talk sometimes. She could hear his voice, deep and angry, but she didn't know what he said. Pain in her arm, her stomach, her ribs, everywhere. The pain drowned out his words and she crawled into it, hiding from him. You can't make me hear you. That was the only power she had and she embraced it.

Nella stormed out of their parents' apartments in frustration. Her father had been furious with her for insulting Lord Gregor. She knew she'd been wrong to provoke him, but at times it seemed as though she simply could not control the things that came out of her mouth. She was afraid for Melicent , but instead it was anger that she presented to the world. Her sister was so soft and meek. She could see good in almost anyone. Who would protect her if Nella did not? Nella knew better. Some people were evil, inside and out. Gregor Clegane was a true monster and Melicent did not seem to know, or to care. Her sister loved the songs about Knights and their Ladies. Back home, she was always wandering about the castle and grounds, daydreaming about the Lord she'd marry one day. Nella often found Melicent leaning over one of the high walls gazing out across the land, lost in thought. Other times she'd be sitting in the gardens with flowers in her hair and making flower colla