[Chapter Size: 4740 Words]

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Ducken POV

Kingdom of the North, City of FrostRoar, Lands of the Glovers, 289 A.C., a few minutes earlier.

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Ducken is a man born in the territories of the Boltons, a talented boy in the training yard who soon stood out in one of the vassal houses of the lords of Dreadfort, becoming a fairly famous soldier in the region. He was so talented that he soon left the house he served after some misunderstandings and went on to seek a life outside the North.

He traveled east and set foot in Essos for the first time, quickly becoming a sword for hire and fought for a mercenary company to make a living for a few years. Unfortunately, his group was exterminated by a khalasar of 10,000 Dothraki. He was one of the few who managed to survive or escape becoming a slave.

Directionless, he went to the southern cities of Essos and soon joined another mercenary company, called Second Sons, but it was a great regret in his life. This company paid well, and he couldn’t complain about his living conditions, but it worked exclusively for slave masters, and most of his career was spent as a guard in Meereen.

He couldn’t endure for many moons and asked to leave his commander because he hated slavery, and he may not see disturbing things every day, but when it happened, it was not a very pleasant experience. As soon as he got permission from his captain, he returned to the north, took on odd jobs as a guard in different houses, not wanting to return to the Bolton territories after his parents passed away. A few years later, there was the rebellion of the squids.

Ducken fought alongside the lord of the north and distinguished himself in battle. He increased the prestige of his name a bit and found more lucrative work as the head of the guard for the mayor of FrostRoar.

But in the last two years, he has been regretting his position again. He found himself surrounded by corrupt men who seemed more like mercenaries than men of the north. This forced him to intervene in various matters of his men and did not earn a good reputation among the guard. Eventually, he found out that the mayor was no different, but his son, Lorenzo Frotniid, managed to be worse.

The brat was a crazy sadist, delighting in beating anyone he looked at with disgust. He enjoyed killing animals he bought with his father’s money or some guards captured for him.

Ducken began to wonder how long it would take for him to start doing things to people below his position. He swore to himself that he would no longer let any human suffer in front of him as he had seen the horrors of Meereen. He swore that he would kill this sadistic child as soon as he hurt someone just for fun, and today was that awaited day.

Ducken was on duty as an accompanying guard when the spoiled one decided to return one of the animals he himself tortured. Arriving at the store, he stayed outside just to watch through the window without wanting to get involved in any nonsense the young sadist might want to start.

Starting to verbally abuse and threaten the people who sold the little animal, the damn Lorenzo was dissatisfied with the bird, but Ducken knew it was only because the poor creature couldn’t endure his torture long enough…

He watched the whole scene from one of the open windows and was so angry, but he could do almost nothing with the noble boy. But he made a mental note that in the next training with this brat, even if he showed some talent, he would make him suffer a lot, even if Ducken received a complaint about him.

Ducken snapped out of his thoughts when he saw another child enter the store, who seemed quite happy as he walked, without any fear of the guards surrounding the establishment. This caught Ducken’s attention, and apparently, the boy was poor.

Ducken exchanged a glance with the boy and was amazed by the colors of that gaze, something he thought impossible to have that eye shape. He had to admit it was quite intriguing, but his eyes reminded him of someone, that hardened gray color was familiar to him, he just couldn’t remember where he saw it.

He continued silently observing the damn brat’s rage as he shouted arrogant words and threats to people. So far, no one noticed the approaching child, and he stood still watching all the confusion. As he was behind them, he didn’t see the boy’s face inside the hood, but one of the guards seemed to notice, and the child, shortly after being noticed.

Ducken was stunned. Why would the guard get so angry as to threaten a child just for looking at the mayor’s son? Then he heard the sadistic one also look and ask for the child’s hand! This made him horrified. What is this sadist thinking? This would cause a scandal, and the idiotic guards were following his orders without thinking about it. Even his father wouldn’t dare to do something like this. He quickly intervened in this madness. But his last look at the scene left him even more stunned.

He noticed something that shocked him: the boy slowly moved his hand to his back without any guard noticing and started pulling out a small blade. The child could actually kill those foolish guards, and they wouldn’t even know how they died if the boy knew how to use that knife properly. I had to act, so I ran to the door, kicked it, and shouted, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?” Ducken thundered angrily.

Everyone turned to him at this moment, and the sadist, who seemed to enjoy watching the show, showed a dark face when he interrupted his madness. He quickly shouted at Ducken, “THIS PLEBEIAN LOOKED AT ME WITH MURDEROUS EYES, DUCKEN, I WANT THIS BOY BEGGING FOR MERCY FOR HIS INSOLENCE!” He shouted with a red face, he even seemed scared? Ducken wondered, but stopping to think, this child could really kill everyone here by taking them by surprise.

He turned to the child who was looking cautiously and noticed his features better. Even under the hood, that was a shock to him. He remembered where he had seen those eyes after seeing his long childlike face, black hair, and gray eyes in his memories.

Flashback – It was raining that night, thunder was heard and seen throughout all that confusion, there were fallen weapons, fire on the candles, corpses everywhere, and the smell of burning blood and flesh didn’t help.

Ducken’s blood was filled with battle adrenaline at this moment, losing count of how many squids he killed that night. He couldn’t even breathe anymore, but he cut anything that tried to kill him in this damn storm.

After killing the last enemy on his side, he stopped to look at all that chaotic environment, wondering if the world would end with all those ships on fire. He saw his comrades falling by his side little by little; he saw many brothers dying and only a few of them left; he hated the squids for starting this war, for plundering the lands of the northerners, he wanted to kill and kill more of them while he couldn’t even breathe properly.

That’s when he noticed another galley approaching with war cries on its ship; he expected to die that night, seeing that he didn’t even have half of the men and commander left, he and his comrades were lost the moment the enemy started jumping on the bow of his ship; he would only fight trying to kill as many squids as possible before dying as a northerner worthy of meeting his gods, so he hoped.

It was when a thud behind the ships while fighting and shouts of the northerners arriving. “For the North!” He heard a powerful voice roar in the midst of that chaos.

His hope of living another day grew when he saw a large man leading the northern counterattack with a great two-handed sword cutting the first enemy; his morale increased along with the men by his side.

We started to turn, which would be a disaster in a victory, as soon as the fight ended, the man shouted. “Let’s go to another ship! For the North!” He shouted, “For the North! For Winterfell! For the Starks!” The men responded, making everyone follow his lead with morale.

This happened throughout the entire battle; whenever Ned Stark entered, the battle turned in favor of the northerners and more and more followers, the Lord of Winterfell made them follow him.

Who couldn’t, he is known for being the most honorable on the continent, always fighting for justice and the man who defeated Arthur Dayne, the greatest swordsman in the history of the continent, in a fight, even though there were no witnesses, there were many songs recounting the glories of the Lord of Winterfell when he was quite young.

Ducken never admired any other man like he did that night; Ned Stark led them to an overwhelming victory.

He tried desperately to serve at Winterfell after the war; he wanted to be under the command of the man he admired most in his life, but he didn’t know the right people, even though his performance in battles was notable. He was still just a common soldier; he would never be able to get in touch with the great nobles.

End of Flashback. Now seeing that child in front of him, it was like seeing a young Eddard Stark, his face was identical, except for the greenish characteristic in his eyes, it was a face carved from the Lord of Winterfell.

It wasn’t very honorable what the child intended to do, but he also wouldn’t judge a child for resorting to such a strategy when his life was at stake against two adults just for a look.

As the commander of the guard in FrostRoar, Ducken still remembers when he received a letter from the castle maester, sent by Lord Glover himself a moon ago. The Lord of Winterfell wrote to all the major houses in the North to pass on his orders, asking for information about his lost bastard for over a moon. As a guard commander, he was immediately informed; even Lord Frotniid asked for this personally, wanting to gain good looks and direct terms from Winterfell.

Receiving orders for any information about the child, he was quite attentive, but there was no news about this bastard throughout the moon. However, now things seemed to be changing. ‘Why did the boy appear in this city and hidden in a hood?’ The boy didn’t seem to want to be discovered, but Ducken was sure that Lord Stark is not a man who would harm a child, even if that child were his bastard. He also realized that he saved the arrogant brat. There is no doubt that the lord of the north would execute the sadistic brat if he managed to take Jon’s hand just for looking at him, which would even make his father suffer terrible consequences in his house.

‘In the end, the brat is a foolish sadist,’ Ducken thought ironically. Coming out of his thoughts, he had to resolve this confusion, because, depending on what would happen, even he would not be spared and would not like to see Ned Stark looking at him with disgust. (Author here: Yes, the guy is a fanboy. I find it quite possible that Ned Stark has his fan club somewhere in the North, LOL)

“Boy, can you tell me? Why were you looking like that at the little Lord Frotniid?” Ducken said in a very respectful tone towards the child, a tone that did not go unnoticed by everyone and earned strange looks in his direction.

The spoiled one was looking in disbelief at how he addressed the “plebeian,” and the young blood Stark looked at me cautiously still not saying anything. It was a moment later that he looked thoughtful and pointed to the bird.

“Young lord, he is seeking a refund for the bird. But when he claims the bird is sick, the little animal is full of bruises, so he would like to buy the bird from him.” After hearing that, Ducken was taken aback. ‘He found out just by looking at the bird? By the Gods, the Starks are on another level!’ He exclaimed as an internal fanboy.

As he was about to respond, the Frotniid brat shouted, “YOU LYING PLEBEIAN, HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF THIS LIE, DUCKEN TAKE THIS BOY TO MY FATHER NOW!” His voice was demanding and impatient, but Ducken didn’t even move yet, which made the boy look at him angrily.

Ducken had a dark face. The brat was getting worse and worse, and even his corrupt father would disapprove of his current behavior. He was speaking publicly like a tyrant, something that not even the Glovers would look kindly upon as their vassals, maybe the Boltons, but he left that territory precisely because of that.

Seeing that Ducken didn’t follow the order, the guards didn’t make any move. They might be corrupt, but they wouldn’t dare to contradict my actions and orders. He sighed and said, “Lord Frotniid, you cannot order this with everyone who annoys you, and if that happens, not even you will escape the wrath of your father.” Ducken said, and the boy couldn’t help but tremble a bit, leaving the spoiled one pale at the mention of his father. He had already received lessons when he crossed the line, and they were not pleasant at all, but his lessons were not for the acts themselves but for being discovered and tarnishing the name of House Frotniid.

Ducken continued speaking. “You’ve already ordered a commoner’s hand to be cut off in public; many people heard it from outside, and it’s probably spreading through the city right now. Your father will be here soon, so to end all this confusion, why don’t you sell the bird to the boy? Didn’t you want to return it and get your money back? The shop doesn’t seem too happy with your demand, and now there’s another willing to pay.” He said, trying to end this confusion as quickly as possible.

Ducken didn’t know, but Lorenzo Frotniid became irritated and frightened by that child’s gaze. In the face of that gaze, he felt like he could die there, that for that commoner, killing was something normal. But after hearing that child, he got even angrier with the accusation the child made, thinking that he ruined the plan of getting his two silver coins back. But now, hearing Ducken’s logic, he thought about getting the money back, but anger was taking over his thoughts, and he wanted to humiliate the child.

“It cost me 3 silver coins, but if you want this useless bird so much, I’m asking for 5 silver stags for it. Can you pay for it, commoner?” Lorenzo mocked. Ducken looked at him disapprovingly, knowing that the bird cost 2 coins and not 3, now asking for 5 for the bird on the brink of death?

‘What will the young blood Stark do?’ He wondered and did not interfere immediately. The employees looked at the mayor’s son in disbelief; the bird would die in the next few days, and he was here asking for 2.5 times more? The son of Lord Frotniid was very treacherous, and this is not the way of a Northerner, even among nobles and commoners, only the bandits are like this.

“I don’t have silver coins at the moment,” the boy said calmly; Ducken sighed wanting to appease this while his young lord had a look of disdain on his face. “Of course, you don’t, bet your family only saw it once in their life, seeing that you…” He had opened a big smile while humiliating the child but couldn’t finish his snobbish speech when the child took a golden dragon from his pocket and threw it at the spoiled brat’s feet.

The only thing heard in the room at this moment was the coin falling to the ground as it stopped at Lorenzo Frotniid’s boots. Everything fell silent afterward; no one knew what to do now, even Ducken looked stunned at the events. The Stark-blooded boy was the first to say something in this silence.

“You can keep the change…” Jon Snow said in a neutral voice and turned to the still-stunned attendants.

“Now, I want to buy all the birds in this store.” He said calmly. The attendants who managed to snap out of their stunned state raised their eyes from the coin standing on the ground and looked at the hooded boy one after another.

They were wondering if the boy was playing some kind of joke, but the manager, who arrived at the scene a little earlier, was the first to speak.

“Young lord, it would cost 5 golden dragons!” The manager exclaimed quickly. Ducken knew that this was not the real value; even the main birds don’t cost many silver coins, but as the manager saw that the boy was not what he seemed, he threw a much higher amount.

“Alright, get me carriages to take them out of the city!” The boy was happy and threw 7 golden dragons into the manager’s hand, who looked at his hand unable to believe that this was happening. Neither Ducken nor anyone else still believed before their eyes.

The young lord snapped out of his daze; looking at the coin on the floor, he couldn’t help but wonder when he had a golden dragon. The answer is never, but before his eyes, this boy, dressed in commoner’s clothes, without any guards, was flaunting more money than he had ever spent in his life as the son of a lord in a city. He was being humiliated one after another; he wanted to kill this child.

“DUCKEN! THIS BOY MUST HAVE STOLEN ALL THIS MONEY, ARREST HIM, NOW!” The sadistic one suddenly shouted, making everyone look at him at this stunned moment.

But before anyone else could say anything, Young Stark spoke, narrowing his eyes at Young Frotniid.

“And what are the grounds for your accusation?” The boy said angrily and continued.

“Article 4 of the Northern laws states that any accusation of public theft must have a report behind the act to start a trial; otherwise, it turns into a crime of slander, and you cannot be judged by the house of the fief. For, from what I heard, you are the son of the lord of this city, and due to your relationship with a high position of local nobility, you will not be judged here, or we will be judged by the predominant Glover house or by Lord Stark himself. The King would be your last resort, but the king wouldn’t waste time for two Northern children, right?” The young Stark said expansively, leaving everyone in the room stunned with the boy’s rhetoric and knowledge.

Even some customers and people who passed by the store entered out of curiosity, becoming surprised by the events. Everyone came to the conclusion that this boy was literate and knew laws at such a young age; so, he was not someone the young Frotniid could mess with. Not to mention, he spoke with eloquence, seemed like someone trained as the heir of a great house, and his wealth in hand already reinforced such suspicion.

The guards were scared now, especially those who were going to follow the sadistic mayor’s son’s order, realizing that their lives and those of their families were threatened now because, depending on the house, they would not be spared. Ducken already knew the boy’s origins, but he was fascinated by the knowledge and intelligence; he looked like a mini Eddard Stark.

The spoiled one was stunned by these words; he must be thinking about how a child younger than him understands laws and while in his head, he is turned towards the pleasure of torturing animals.

“Ducken, does this boy speak the truth?” He asked me cautiously, now he was quite scared.

“Yes, Lord Frotniid, this law exists as the boy mentioned.” He said calmly. Ducken might not be literate, but as a commander, he had to memorize the Northern laws with the local maester.

The place was crowded now; it is very likely that rumors about young Frotniid asking for the commoner’s hand had spread, but unlike the sight they expected to see, it was the sight of a boy in tattered clothes controlling the entire situation while Lord Frotniid was extremely lost with the situation, and his opponent showed wealth and knowledge.

“Manager, I need paper, ink, and pen, please.” The boy spoke again; now everyone was intrigued to see what would happen.

The manager snapped out of his daze and rushed to the office. He came back while everyone remained silent and lost; he handed it to the hooded boy.

Then Ducken saw Jon Snow go to the counter under everyone’s gaze and leaned to start writing with the ink on paper. It’s not necessary to guess why a commotion was becoming bigger around the store, while the young Stark blood began writing a letter as everyone looked in silence unable to breathe, just hearing the pen being quickly moved in the hand of that boy.

The rumor of a mysterious 8-namedays child with golden dragons, who understands laws and is certainly literate while arguing with the son of Lord Frotniid, after the latter threatened to ask for the mysterious boy’s hand because he didn’t like the look, has already spread throughout the city.

Ducken wondered how long until the complete situation reached his father and how long it would take for the mayor to get here. The sadistic boy was pale now, not knowing what to do while being quite paralyzed.

Everyone was wondering what that mysterious child was writing. ‘If it’s what I imagine it is, then it seems that once again the world has shown that too much arrogance can be your downfall, and that young Frotniid would be condemned with that letter.’ Ducken thought internally.

“Manager, get me a raven I bought and a map, please.” Little Jon Snow said as soon as he finished writing, and he seemed to have written the entire letter in a few minutes.

“W-What do you intend to do?” Young Frotniid couldn’t help but ask, stammering.

But Jon just looked at him and ignored him while looking at the manager for his response.

The manager was speechless but did what he asked; the windows were filled with people watching all the events.

Ducken smiled; it seemed every time he was dealing with a mini Lord Stark, not on a battlefield, but he imagined exactly such a Stark lord in a political and legal field.

The manager arrived with a map of the North and the gray raven in the cage. The boy left the manager stunned when he opened the raven’s cage and let it out in front of him. Everyone thought the raven would fly away, as it looked quite wild and certainly was not trained by the Citadel, where the monopoly of postal ravens was, and only through this place would the houses of Westeros buy ravens to be used like this. However, the scene they imagined of the raven fleeing did not happen to the surprise of dozens of eyes; the raven left the cage and stood next to the boy as if waiting for a command from him, the weirdest thing was that the little raven let Jon tie the letter he wrote to its foot.

“Young Lord, I don’t think it’s possible; he is not a courier raven and doesn’t know our region.” The manager seemed concerned about the boy’s fanciful idea of simply putting a letter on the foot of the gray raven and waiting miraculously to arrive at its destination.

“It’s alright, I know what I’m doing.” He said calmly shrugging off the man’s concern; no one could see the boy’s face, who was still hooded, but his actions were worthy of some great house, and everyone just stood silently watching as the mayor’s son continued pale, wondering what the boy wrote in that letter and where he plans to send it, worried about the unknown idea of what will happen; he couldn’t wait any longer and asked nervously.

“I AM THE SON OF THE LORD OF THIS CITY! I DEMAND TO KNOW WHERE YOU ARE SENDING THIS LETTER!?” He demanded; already, Jon Snow, the mysterious boy, looked calmly at him and said:

“To Winterfell.” He simply said.

Everyone went pale; what is this child saying? ‘Is he going to report this to the Lord of the North himself?!’ That was everyone’s thought. Ducken just smiled; his prediction was correct. Jon looked at the raven, which also looked at the boy; it seemed like they were having some kind of magical communication while looking at each other.

Jon began pointing to a part of the map; the raven climbed onto his shoulder and suddenly started making bird noises. The boy just looked at the raven as if giving instructions to the bird, but he never uttered a word from his mouth while the raven made noise every moment.

People were speechless for this; it even reminded them of the boy from that recent legend, which the people had been adoring in recent weeks. Ducken stopped thinking after this bird scene too. The legend tells of a boy who controls animals and fought against 12 bandits, and his animals killed half while he killed the other half alone with only 8 namedays.

Ducken tried to remember the name of the fantasy, which was called “Little Something.” He didn’t care much about these legends and found them quite fanciful, but now he was pale in his thoughts. ‘Is the legend real?’ He exclaimed in thought. Because he stopped to think even more about this new ballad, now remembering that the name of the legend is the Little Jon, and the name of his bastard son is JON SNOW.

‘This can’t be a coincidence, right? But this boy has magic eyes just like in the song! So it’s the Lord Stark’s own son, the legendary boy who fought against all odds and won?’ Many people had the same thought, but only Ducken knew the real identity of the boy as the son Lord Stark had outside of marriage.

While Ducken was speechless, people were whispering among themselves, not even knowing that the boy was Jon Snow.

“LIARS, THIS PLEBEIAN CHILD ONLY SPEWS LIES, I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL! IF YOU’RE NOT A COWARD!” The sadistic brat went for his last attempt; he would fight with a child 4 namedays younger; this was an extremely cowardly act. ‘I won’t allow this,’ Ducken said internally and then snapped out of his reverie.

He had to stop this madness. But before saying any word, Jon said calmly.

“I accept your challenge.” Jon said as if he had total control of the situation. This left people with egg-sized eyes; meanwhile, Ducken was conflicted because he had to stop this, but seeing the gleam in Jon’s eyes, it was as if he wanted to take this chance to unleash his fury on little Frotniid.

‘But he’s just an 8 namedays old boy, right?’ He thought, but another thought came. ‘A boy who almost killed two guards in front of me… if the legend is true… shouldn’t I be concerned about Lord Frotniid’s son?’ His last thought as they prepared for the duel.

Author’s Note: FrostRoar, I named the city to make it easier for the story. It’s a territory near the border of the Glovers and Stark region, a fictional city like this small vassal house of the Glovers, I invented and placed in the universe, since the Westeros story focuses more on the great houses and big cities, and as the north has millions in its population, in my view, there should be many cities like this in the north and throughout the realms.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep