Game of Thrones: Fifth Reich

The cold north wind hit his face, and the young man still couldn't get used to it. It was unpleasant and dirty, a cold that made his bones uncomfortable, but there was nothing he could do. Besides, it could be much worse, after all, although he was still in the north, he was in one of the southernmost areas of the place.

"Son, you shouldn't expose yourself so much to the cold," said a loving voice, making the infant turn around. He was only nine years old, but could pass unnoticed as a twelve year old, quite tall for his age.

The features of the woman, owner of the voice, were a tall, stooped, attractive figure, with a few wrinkles around her mouth, and dark eyes. Her hair is chestnut-colored, with some gray parts, and was tied back in a bun behind her head.

Her dress, with a high and stiff collar and black color, did not protect her from the cold, so a fur coat reinforced it, also black. Her smile was loving as she looked at her son, her only child, but to many it might have seemed a bit frightening and macabre.

"We live in the north mother, the cold must be part of us" the young man said, and his tone was not as animated, as one would expect from a child his age; it was quite cold in fact, but the woman did not seem surprised.

"But you're young, your body is more vulnerable" replied the woman, to which the boy gave a sigh and turned his body around, and then went back to take refuge in the large castle that rested at his back.

"I had things to do anyway" the boy snorted, and as he entered he began to follow the corridors to what looked like some sort of office.

He saw a wooden desk, with quite a few scrolls and a quill with ink on it, and, taking a little push with his undeveloped arms, was able to climb onto the wooden chair to get a better view of the writing.

His mother, meanwhile, followed him all the way, and stood erect behind the wooden chair, behind her son.

"Who are we waiting for?"

"Hubert and Ander."

"Oh, those two. Despite being mere commoners they proved quite capable."

"They are, the best that can be found around here."

"Well, if you're as good with your eyes as you are with your brains, I must trust my son, small as he is."

"A lot of kids my age are forced to pick up a sword and take lives, mine isn't so spectacular."

The duo waited a couple of minutes, and finally both Hubert and Ander arrived, arms laden with parchments which they awkwardly and clumsily laid down on the young man's desk.

"My lord" they both greeted, while the young man nodded.

"You were both in charge of different things, I want to know how each of you fared."

"Yes sir" Hubert answered first, with a gentle smile on his face. "About the crops, I must admit that they are working perfectly. What I called crop rotation has seemed to improve the soil a little, its quality, and all of southern Barrowland has planted both beets and carrots, and I must also say that both are very well adapted to this cold climate. In winter they should lose a little bit of efficiency, but the quality is still good."

"What about that third one, were you able to find it?".

"I'm afraid not my lord, that one you called lettuce, and with the description you gave us about it...no Essos merchant knows what it is."

"Well, with what we have now we have plenty."

"That's right sir."

"Now, Ander, the second point."

"Yes... the situation is much more stable now. Although there was a bit of chaos a few months ago, Beron helped us to suppress it, and the peasants seem happier with this change, it gives them more stability."

"Well, it is natural for them to react this way if the possibility to work their land autonomously is taken away, but people without ambitions prefer the stability that a monthly salary gives, which does not vary with anything, to the uncertainty that planting by itself gives."

"That's right sir, your words are wise" Hubert commented. "Should we implement anything else to improve our agriculture?".

"No. No matter how many changes are made, this is still north, and farming is not our forte. With what we have planted we can we won't have to fear winter, and we may even be able to make some profit, even after paying the workers, if we sell the surplus to our neighbors, but it's nothing that can go much further than that. It's not worthwhile to be so bent on this enterprise."

"I understand sir."

"How has the other point gone Ander?".

"That's been the highlight really, and it also served the above. The continued migration of little people from other lands has meant that as there is more competition, everyone works harder."

"That's dangerous son" spoke the mother from behind. "Sooner or later someone will complain, accusing you of stealing from their people."

"It's not relevant mother. You know why yourself," the son said. After all, because of his mother's animosity for House Stark, House Dustin didn't have many friends in the North. Only House Ryswell itself, and since most of the Carrot sales went to them, they wouldn't complain.

"What about the surplus Beetroot sir, are we still not selling it?".

"No, I have other plans with it, but I need first... stronger foundations" the young man commented, and a new figure opened the door and entered the place.

"Beron, I was expecting you too."

"My lord."

"How goes the creation of this phalanx? Your training."

"This... from what you have had me show you, it is going quite well. But, with all due respect, I don't know if it's the right thing to do sir."

"What do you mean?" the young man asked.

"I feel that you have focused too much on order, in a very excessive way. An exaggerated perfection one might even say. But at the same time, there has been too much neglect of the personal skill of each soldier."

"The personal skill of the soldier is not necessary. On the battlefield those soldiers are nothing more than an extension of my orders, so what I require is that they can follow my orders as exactly as possible, then we will have any victory guaranteed" smiled the young man, and the arrogance was palpable. No one said anything of course, the little boy in front of them, despite his young age, had shown too much to be questioned.

"I understand sir. But then yes, training is going well. My other concerns were regarding how we were going to keep these soldiers fed, yes, in times of peace like the present we are training them, but I heard something from Ander about the constant migrations into our territory."

"That's right, that has been able to replace manpower, and since we can feed ourselves, we don't have to spend a millionaire on Tyrell food. We can afford to maintain an army of five thousand soldiers on a constant basis."

"I agree. It would seem that the Old Gods truly want what is best for House Dustin, and their lord, Wolfgang Dustin."

"So it would seem" replied Wolfgang, and waved his hand for all to stand down.

"Then tell me son" replied Lady Dustin when she was now alone with her son. "What do you want to do with that remaining beet?".

"Sugar."

"Sugar? That thing they make in Dorne?".

"Much more sophisticated than that mother. I've been testing in... my little lab, and I figured out a way. Not only of course, the Elder Gods guided me," young Dustin said seriously, to which his mother nodded heavily.

"Oh, so that's why you can't do it now, you lack loyal people."

"That's right, Beron is a trustworthy person."

"Right, he's a loyal servant of the Dustin family, he served your father, and his father served your father's father."

"In Ander he also trusted completely. I put him out of misery and, as with Hubert, I have taken it upon myself to ensure his obedience."

"You speak of Ander's daughter and Hubert's sister?"

"That's right, they are both guests at the castle, well treated and well cared for, but deep down they know the fate of both if they do something I don't like."

"Wouldn't be the first girl you'd send to a brothel to be raped by soldiers" Lady Dustin commented with a chuckle.

"But of course, these are three people, it's not feasible to produce sugar with just... their talents. And the other group I could rely on are the soldiers. In the last few years Beron has trained them without stop, and in addition to strict order, he has strongly instilled loyalty in them, using... unconventional... techniques. It's what you might call brainwashing."

"Well, the whole town is being brainwashed, son."

"It's not that far-fetched, I simply tell them my truth, and by telling it to the people so many times, it becomes their truth as well."

"Wolfgang Dustin, the young genius who, with the blessing of the Old Gods, cares for and protects his people from the cold. That is what many people in the streets say, shouting the same thing day and night throughout Barrowton."

"They are simply people grateful for my contributions."

"Ha, of course," Dustin laughed, but a motherly smile broke through her as she turned her eyes on her son; these eyes held both love and pride.

"Well mother, I'm afraid I have some paperwork to review and stamp."

"As a regent that should be my job."

"Don't do something unnecessary, we both know that bell is used by me" Wolfgang smiled, and his mother gave a tired sigh.

"They grow up so fast..." said the woman as she withdrew, leaving the young man alone, who set to work.