POV: Author

Study of Helman Tallhart, Torrhen's Square.

Year 281 BC, the first day of the fifth moon.

(The Great Tournament of Harrenhal is about six months away)…

"Luckily according to the citadel's reports winter will soon be over..." Said the Torrhen Square Master speaking quietly alone in his office as he read the reports.

Although it didn't last long the winter had hit the North badly. Dozens of snowstorms had blocked almost every road, even the King's road was nearly inaccessible.

Every village or hamlet in its territory had been isolated. The Tallhart family had spent a lot of manpower and resources to successfully send aid. Despite their efforts, many convoys of grain and clothing were wiped out by frost, packs of vicious beasts, and bandits.

Even with the help of House Cerwyn, the situation continued to be difficult.

The last report from the explorers who had managed to return stated that an entire village had been wiped out by a blizzard and another was under siege by a large group of bandits...

Helman took the last report of the evening.

It was about the current state of the family's finances...

{Stocks: 41,710 gold dragons.

Supplies: three years of reserves for the castle;

six months of reserves for the peasants;

Debts: Tot. 10,550 golden dragons *.

Stark House 1,200 golden dragons;

Manderly House 850 golden dragons;

Tully House 1,000 golden dragons;

Tyrell House 7,500 golden dragons}

‘Damn Tyrells, they tripled the price of grain six months before winter came. They don't even claim responsibility for the cargo, in case 'the Iron Fleet' or 'pirates' should 'plunder' their ships. They even cut down on transportation costs by simply leaving the cargo at White Harbor!’ Helman clenched his fist in frustration.

‘I can't tap the gold reserves any more than that, it would leave our house overly exposed...’ The man sighed.

There was a knock on the door. "Yes, Tom?"

"The little lord requests an audience, my lord."

"Let him in, thank you, Tom." Tom withdrew with a polite nod.

A child now almost over three feet tall entered.

"Father. I hope I'm not disturbing you." Said Duncan.

‘The good old days of 'Papa' are already over... Time is the cruelest of enemies.’ Thought the Lord with a deep nod of sadness that he quickly erased with a warm smile.

"Not at all son, you are actually saving this poor man from oblivion."

"Maester Golbarth has once again praised your achievements in your studies, he is practically begging me to send you to the citadel, he says you could become the youngest Grand Master in the history of the seven kingdoms. I am proud of you my son." Said Helman with a big smile.

‘Oh Golbarth, my old friend... You've almost reached the Mines of Moria already... Why do you keep digging your own grave?’ Thought Duncan while taking a mental note for the future.

"Your mother also tells me that you spend every spare moment helping her with the twins*... Tell me the truth, do you need any more favors? Or is there anything your mother and I can give you besides those mundane ingredients you requested for your name day?”

Now that little Duncan was a few steps away, Helman noticed that the air was slightly wafted with a pleasant scent and that his son's skin was strangely cleaner and shinier than ever.

"No father. I really don't need anything...however... I..." Duncan said, keeping his gaze downcast in a hesitant and slightly fearful tone.

"What's the matter, son? Did something happen? You can talk to me you know." Helman straightened up from his chair and stared anxiously at his son. It was the first time he had ever seen Duncan so concerned and all the man's alarm bells were now shrieking.

"Nothing serious happened... I think... ‘Papa’ I don't know if I can tell you... I... I don't think you could understand me... or believe me." Said the boy in a tone that screamed despair, insecurity and resignation. (Yes...he had practiced it quite a bit).

Helman jolted to his feet, dropping papers, pens, and inks, and rushed toward his son, hugging him in the most reassuring way possible.

"Papa's here Duncan! I will always protect you no matter what happens. But I beg you, for your old man's sake, don't keep secrets from me. You will cause me to die of anxiety and worry... Your obstacles will be my obstacles! Your enemies will also be mine! Your father swears to you son! So please tell me what's going on...can you do that for your Papa?" Said Helman with damp eyes kissing his son's fragrant forehead.

‘I'll almost certainly have to serve at least a year in hell for what I've done and what I'm about to do to the poor guy... forgive me if you can Helman.’ Thought Duncan feeling guilty about the ‘act’.

"Yes Papa, sigh sigh... Do you remember when I asked you a few months ago why the people in the castle smelled so bad?" He asked sobbing.

"Yes of course... because of the frost... but this..." Helman was more confused than ever.

"You told me that not everyone could wash in the winter, both due to the problem of hot water and because bath oils were a luxury the castle could not afford. I... I wanted to look for a solution... and I went to Godswood to pray to the gods... to ask for help... and there I heard it... it was a voice... it came from the tree of the gods..." Duncan paused to build some suspense.

"...And then? What did that voice say to you son?" Helman asked, focused and with an accelerated heartbeat.

"He told me to touch the tree. I did and the next thing I knew... visions... so many visions Father! I saw older men preparing something and the longer I stood there watching the more I realized! They told me it was called ‘Soap’...and I knew how to make it... in every way, I knew...and...and I made it...well here it is...here it is." Duncan opened his hand and a bar of soap popped out of his little hand.

"The presents I asked for the birthday... well they were the ingredients to make this so-called ‘Soap’. The voice also said it was a ‘Gift’... but it also said I had to be careful... that's why I asked you for the safe room Papa! The voice showed me some ugly, awful scenes... of you... mom... uncles... even... sigh sigh, MY LITTLE BROTHER AND SISTER! Ugh ugh... I realized that if I told the wrong person all those bad things would happen!" Duncan began to cry and sob, partly naturally because he felt like a real soulless piece of shit.

"I'm sorry Papa, I let you down! I let you all down! Sigh sigh... I put my family in danger!!! Uuuaaaghh! ghug ghug!" He cried harder, burying his face in the man's chest.

"Shhh, it's okay Duncan! It's okay! Papa's here! You didn't do anything wrong... shhh" He said trying to be as reassuring as possible.

Fifteen minutes of crying, sobbing, reassurance, hugs and cuddles later….

"Son now that you've calmed down, can you explain more about what this soap does?" Helman asked, satisfied that he had managed to calm his son down and even make him laugh a little.

Duncan, riding the wave, explained to his father all the practical and functional aspects that the Ancient Gods had explained to the boy.

He also explained to him all the three types of soap he had created: one for the common people, one for more affluent people and one for the nobility.

He demonstrated the effects on Helman himself who was shocked for a moment. He now understood why his son's skin was so clean and soft!

Duncan had even prepared a sheet with quantities of ingredients, the labor processes and costs.

The cheapest soap could be produced by spending about only two pennies for a piece. The second type, of higher quality, a copper star and three pennies. The third type, of the highest quality, for a silver moon and four silver stags.

They could have easily sold the three products for five pennies (common), a stag (superior) and a moon (supreme) a piece...it was a gold mine! And now the Tallhart family had a clear path to a monopoly on production!

Helman tried with all his might to keep his composure and not to think about the possibilities and solutions of this great opportunity.

Duncan subtly and covertly told his father that it was also because of an article in a book by a certain maester Qyburn that he had managed to streamline the process (which was half true).

When the excitement and enthusiasm dropped, Duncan was ready for "the Final Act." By now he could have played poor Helman like a fiddle.

"Father, I have to tell you one last thing... There is a reason I acted, carelessly… I believe the Old Gods gave me a 'second gift'... to protect me." Said Duncan again in a somber tone.

"What is it?" The man asked quietly but seriously.

"I could and still can feel it. I don't know how to explain it...but I can tell who I feel I can trust and who I cannot." Duncan.

"When I'm around you, Uncle, and Mom I feel it... I feel a warm, comforting, pleasant feeling... I feel it in others too but not as strong as yours. But I don't know how to say it..." he interrupted as if he didn't want to continue. Helman immediately guessed the message.

"Who son?! Who didn't give you that feeling?"

"Well, I don't think it's that reliable, Papa... I mean, it was just a feeling..." Said a hesitant and frightened child.

Lord Tallhart gently took his son's hands to reassure him.

"Don't worry you can talk to me about it you know, even the Gods are telling you!" Said Helman as he fell with both feet into the pit.

Captain, the men are ready! what are the orders?... Fire at will!, voices sang in the child's head signaling to him that it was time to eat the first pawn.

"Maester Golbarth... yes that's him... he gives off an aura that scares me, father. If I get close to him, I feel shivers all over my body, I don't know how to explain it... but I feel that I can't trust him... But he's never done anything to me, I swear! He has always helped me whenever I've asked him for help! He has always been kind!

I really don't know why he makes me shiver... even though..." the boy paused for a moment to think.

"Even though?!... Please continue, son." Helman continued to maintain a slight calm smile, but his eyes were icy: they were the eyes of a man ready to kill at any moment.

"Well yes, a strange thing happened. About almost a year ago the maester was more relaxed and calmer when we were having lessons, but one night I think he said something he shouldn't have said... I don't know why; he had only told me that he was born in the Westlands and that he was the birth son of a Lannister... I can't remember the name... Ah yes, I remember he was Tytos Lannister's cousin. I still don't see anything wrong with that. Since that day, however, the Maester has treated me a little more coldly and carefully. He has never told me anything more about his past...but that is all I swear!" Explained Duncan quickly.

Helman stood still for a few seconds, contemplating the boy's words. The smile was gone, his left-hand trembling slightly.

"Duncan son, thank you for being honest with me. Damn! ... It's getting very late, your mother will scold us both if you don't go to sleep right away!" Replied Helman quickly.

"Yes, Papa, thank you for listening to me. I love you!" Said Duncan with a smile.

"Me too, son! Me too… Now go, it's late." The Lord gave his son a small hug, trying with all his might to stay calm.

The boy quickly walked out of his father's office.

*[Author's note: 1 golden dragon = 30 silver moons

1 silver moon = 7 silver stags

1 silver stag = 7 copper stars

1 copper star = 8 copper pennies

1 copper penny = purchasing power value about $0.75

1 golden dragons = 11,760 pennies= approximately $8,840 of purchasing power.]

*[Author's note: Born about 7 months earlier, a little boy ‘Benfred’ and a girl ‘Eddara’]

End POV

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POV A Child of the North

On a late winter moonlit evening in the Northlands of Westeros, a child walked slowly down a castle hallway. A loud roar of anger was heard echoing throughout the keep. The child stopped, turned his gaze to look over his shoulder for a moment, and resumed walking toward his rooms.

A small childish voice echoed in that hallway...

"Let the Seventy-Seventh Hunger Games begin."