Chapter 11: Interlude
Just a clarification. Beor is not the lord of Bear Island. He is legally the first in line, being the sole male child, but the island is now ruled by Maege.
She can still choose Darcy or Alysanne, if she so wanted.
Also the document formatter is messing up, so sorry if some demarcation lines are missing.
As always, I own nothing, but the cloak on my back( seriously, I'm homeless, help me).
-Breakline-
There once was a ship that put to sea
The name of the ship was the Billy of Tea
The winds blew up, her bow dipped down
Oh blow, my bully boys, blow (huh)
Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum
One day, when the tonguing is done
We'll take our leave and go
She'd not been two weeks from shore
When down on her a right whale bore
The captain called all hands and swore
He'd take that whale in tow (huh)
Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum
One day, when the tonguing is done
We'll take our leave and go
It was the third time he was made to sing the chanty. The soldiers and sailers drunk in their riches and successes gained from thr Rebellion, were even jollier than usual, and thus take it upon themselves to get the young Mormont lord to sing and party with them in their way back to Bear Island.
Mormont courteously obliged, not seeing any wrong with a bit of fun, once in a while. Thus he found himself singing, accompanied by his guitar, and improvised drums. When they got the idea of it, a sailor even pull out his flute to join in the tune.
The song was not as big of a hit as the Drunken Sailor, but it was well liked, the men enthralled by the storyline meshed with the catchy tune.
They had been at sea for a week now, and they were expecting to make land by the morrow. Beor could notbhelp but be excited to see his home and family again. When had he grown so attached to them? For the longest time, he had tried to see them as characters in his story, understand the ruthlessness of noble life in Westeros. But despite himself, he had developped emotions for them.
Maege, despite being much younger than him, at least in spirit, was his mother. She loved him dearly, that much he knew, and he loved her too. Dacey and Alysanne were the sweetest young ladies he has ever met, Alysanne with her try hard and tomboyish character, and Dacey with a healthy mix of girliness and "fuck around and find out" ness.
Torrhen, his father was a weirder case. He was devoted to Maege, and loved him and the girls, but he dared not see them as his children. To the man, Beor was " the little lord" as Dacey and Alysanne were the "young ladies". Maybe it was out of respect for the Mormont name, with him not being of noble blood. Oh well, if it worked for him and Maege, then so be it. He was a good dad too.
To think that a little less than a year ago he had been just a boy from some island in the North. Of course he knew of his plans and ways to accomplish them, but now he had songs made about, he was a hero in Westerosi culture, up there with Barristan the Bold or Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. However that also meant that he will be a lot more visible, with practically everyone's eyes om his back, for better or for worst.
He planned to impliment massive changes that will shake Westeros to his core. With changes will inevitably come arduous resistance, at all levels, within or outside Bear Island and the North. He was thankful now that he had been born with his abilities, whatever they were.
In a society as calcified as Westeros, changes aren't seen without suspicions. Everyone, highborn or small folk will be wary or even lash out at them, and as a result, at him. The path will be easier than he had previously thought, with all of the money and reputation he earned, but he knew deep in his heart that he will have to fight tooth and nail for every little inch he can take until no one could oppose him without looking like a fool.
"Again, Lord Beor! Play your instrument! Let us sing of our exploits!" The sailors yelled drunkenly, snapping him back to reality. Enough being morose, let the future be a problem for future Beor.
They song their war song, they seemed quite fond of that one, some more chanties, an any other they could remember. He even sang a slightly altered version of "Country Roads", instead making it about Bear Island.
Though not as upbeat, it resonated with the men who were quite homesick, they found themselves dissonantly belting the chorus, yearning for their island further north.
When he saw the harbour from his boat, Beor felt relief. Finally this chapter of his life, as young as this one was, was over and done.
He could see the small shapes of the people there to greet them, waving banners and playing music. It took them anothet thirty minutes for the boat to be safely docked and moored.
He saw his mother, with a babe in her arm, his sisters, waving at him, large smiles plastered on their faces. Behind them was pretty much the whole island, cheering the returning heroes. The sailors and soldiers were understandingly taken aback; Celebrations were normal when returning from war, but this? This was something completely different.
They had not realized how deeply ran the mark the young lord had made on the realm. And it took returning home for reality to settle upon them.
Looking at Beor, where at first they saw a precocious and talented lord, they now saw the truth. They saw a trailblazer, a star burning bright, a promise of better days for them and for Bear Island.
"We're home, laddies." Beor said, with a soft smile on his face.
The reunions were full of tears and hugs. Beor got to meet his new baby sister, Lyanna Mormont. She was a tiny little thing, with beautiful brown hair, and an impressive set of lungs.
Maege did her best not to cry, and failed miserably, devolving into a mess at the sight of her son. He had grown from a boy to a man, almost as tall as his father. His hair was longer, made into braids, with the sides cut short.
When he picked her up and twirled her around like a little girl, she openly sobbed, happy and grateful to the old gods and the new that her family was once again complete. She had mourned for Jorah and worried for her son day and night for the past year, but now she was back. She didn't care if he had brought down the wall and reforged back the Arm of Dorne,all that matteed to her is that her little bear was back where he belonged.
Maester Lowry was looking at the scene, elated that the young lord had returned. The loss of Lord Jorah had reminded him of the fickle nature of war and had worried himself almost to death for the boy he had come to see as a herald of the Smith on Earth. What an act of cosmic injustice it would've been had the young master fallen in battle, such a bright mind lost in a field of dead men.
Beor, for his part, was glad to be home, surrounded by those he cared about. He had left a boy, at least in their eyes, and came back a blooded warrior with legends to his name. But all he could think about was how much work he had to do and hiw much fun he would be having doing so.
They celebrated the return of the young lord, and they were regaled with stories and tales of the war. They celebrated the dead and the living, for it was thanks to both that Bear Island lived on. Beor's ideas were already bearing fruit, literally. Under the counsel of Lowry, Maege had implemented many new reforms, especially when it came to food production. It had only been a year, but the surplus of grain and vegetables spoke for itself. Never before had the island seen such splendid feast.
-Breakline-
The next weeks went by quickly. Beor mostly spent time with his family or with Lowry and the other skilled workers of the island, especially metalworkers, shipwrights, and skilled farmers.
They gulped in fear when the young lord locked the door behind him and with a feral grin said: my good men, we have a lot of work to do.
When they left that room, around six hours ago, they all sported a dazed stare, as if they had seen and heard things not meant for mortal ears.
In regards to Sea Dragon Point, Beor had ordered prospectors from White Arbor and Winterfell to come assess the lands. The peninsula was deceptively massive, sitting between Deepwood Motte and the Stony Shore, an area about five times the size of Bear Island.
It was mainly unpopulated, besides a few hamlets deep in the forest and some fishing villages. The land however wasn't a lost cause. While it wasn't a treasure trove of gold and silver, it didn't lack natural resources. The lands were fertile, the rivers small lakes and forests bustling with game, the lumber was plentiful. It was also the home to a something even more valuable than all that combine: is nice and all, and so is silver, but what drives the world forward is energy. Countries can be sitting on tons of natural resources and have plenty of food, but cheap and efficient method of producing energy is what catapults a country out of the medieval era. Energy means industry, the ability to support and maintain a large and healthy population. It also means better protection against the short, it means the people will be able to go further faster and with a lot less hassle.
There were several coal veins on Bear Island, and Beor was banking on these to kickstart his little revolution but Lord Stark had unknowingly granted him the keys to the future. What a kind and thoughtful man.
The other issue is the population. Bear Island is decently populated with about ten thousands people spread around in fishing villages and small inland villages. There was bound to be a baby boom in the region and the North in general with the higher agricultural production and the advancements in hygiene and sanitation. Also in the future, he could expect a population growth through immigration, mostly from the Riverlands and the Iron Islands. But that was then and this is now.
For the mean time, he probably will write edicts, promising lands amd work to smallfolks. He was also thinking of limiting the influence of other nobles on his lands in order to limit strife and resistance from his hypothetical sworn houses.
Add to that a complete rebuilding of the Mormont keep- nothing short of a palace fortress would do-, which was still being planned, the expansion of the small town that was growing around Bear Arbor, the expansion of the harbour itself, and infrastructure building on Sea Dragon Point, Beor had his plate full for the next five years, at least.
-Breakline-
Erik was a good smith. At five and thirty he was quite the accomplished one too, having learned under the former smith of the keep, and eventually replacing him. Blacksmithing was a good trade, the money was good, the skills always needed and when you were as good as he was- the best smith in the island- his good fortune was guaranteed. He had no reason to complain.
That is until yesterday.
The young Mormont lord, in the span of a few hours had flipped his world upside down. He wasn't sure if the man was mad or brimming with genius.
Now as Bear Island culture dictated, he had spoken his mind." My lord, you mean to produce steel? On Bear Island? And that amount? It's unfeasable, even for one such as you."
Beor had looked at him, with that smile of his, the same smile his father had when he was first learning his numbers.
"Believe in me Erik", he had said, "just as I do you. Great things are coming for us and this land, and if you stand by me, you'll be one of the first to see them."
That did not answer the question, but the gods be damned if he wasn't convinced. The man had led the king's army to victory, when everyone saw him as nothing but a child. Maybe placing his faith in him wasn't such a bad idea, the boy was a Mormont through and through, and was probably shaping up to be the best of them.
'Oh, what a time to be alive' he thought, looking at the plans and hand drawn pictures the young master had given him to look over.
"This is madness", he mused out loud, a crazy smile on his face.
-BREAKLINE-
"Young master, I'm confused. Tiny living creatures that cause diseases but also fermentation? but where are they? How can such small creatures be so powerful?"
Lowry was sitting down, alongside a few other men-and women, he noted, with bit of a sneer-, all of them adequately smart and capable of reading and counting.
"That was two days ago, maester, keep up." Beor answered, jokingly.
He had taken to teach some basic science and mathematics to some folks living in the in their small towns, in the hopes of spreading a modicum of knowledge to the smallfolk. Food and shelter was secure for the people of Bear Island. Raids were almost non existant, with the Iron Islands being crippled and the Wildlings not raiding as much during the summers.
"But, young master- as Lowry had taken to calling him, instead of the customary term "lord". It never occured him to ask why he called him that- surely you understand my doubts. You said it yourself, extraordinary claims require extrordinary evidence." he finished, not willing to let go of his stubborness. He knew the young master was probably correct as he was wont to be, but his intellectual mind yearned for more than a cursory explanation on the subject.
"That is fair enough", Beor answered, "but we will have to do this another time, trust me, it's a vast subject. We could spend our whole life discussing it and not even scratch the surface."
Lowry relented at that. As an learned man, he was tempted to argue even more, but his respect for the young man overrode even his rationality at times.
" So, sterilization of utensils and handwashing with clean water is paramount for the well being of the child and its mother" Beor continued, enjoying teaching as much as he did in his first life, be it advanced physics or in this case, simple hygiene.
Later, he spoke with the maester about how the projects were advancing. The shipyards on Bear Island were going nicely, almost on schedule, which was a miracle in a world like Westeros. The seafaring wasn't supposed to be a large factor anyway, as his primary market so far would be the North and the Riverlands to establish himself as a viable merchant house.
Thus production was what his true goals were. He had the markets and willing buyers. Linen and wool would be his primary exports, alongside surplus of grains and greens and fruiys grown locally.
Large pit greenhouses had been built, and for the past years had been growing tomatoes, peaches, cucumbers and other things that couldn't reliably be grown in the North. Imported from the Reach and Dorne, those produce usually would be resevered for the highborn and their families, but on Bear Island and, to a certain, extant Deepwood Motte were enjoying the small delicacies as a result of Beor's ideas.
Beyond the economical planning, he was also reforming the judicial system of Bear Island. De facto, Bear Island was one of the most liberated societies in Westeros with men and women being viewed almost as equal, the women being expected to fight and defend their home as much as the men. This became a part of their culture due to the frequency of raids from both Wildling Ironborn reavers in coastal villages, which sometimes happened when the men were at sea, fishing.
Not to say that Bear Island was modern land in terms of equality. It was a step above Medieval Europe, but not by much. He had the idea of creating a variation of the Magna Carta, guaranteeing rights of the average citizens, especially when it came to criminal justice. But again that was for later. Establishing the foundation of a succesful society takes much more than just proclaiming that all men are now equal. His house needed to be the muscle behind it, both economically and politically. He was rich, but not Lannister or Hightower rich, and beyond the recognition his name brought him, he had no true power, beyond the ability to brain grown men like it was going oit of style.
So, yes, the road to success was still to be long and harduous, but he was still having some success, however small it was.
-BREAKLINE-
"You're what?!" Maege yelled, looking at her son as if grown a second head.
"I'm going to Essos, mother", Beor repeated, as calm as before.
The she-bear stared at her son, trying to intimidate him. He looked back at her, his gaze as placid as his tone had been.
"The fuck you're not!" she said, pounding the desk behind which she was seated. It was a beautiful piece, made of ironwood, with a large bear family carved in it, representing the living members of house Mormont. It was a gift from Beor for fortieth nameday.
"I have..." Beor begin, before being cut off by his mother.
"Why do you want to leave again? You came back not a year ago. And now you want to go to other side of the world?" She was screaming again, furious, jealous at the world for wanting to tear her son away from her.
"Mother, calm down". As the words left his mouth, Beor knew he had shot himself in the foot.
Maege froze at that, her mind having trouble registering the gall of the boy sitting in front of her.
"Have you lost your mind, boy?" she asked, her voice cold with barely contained fury. She stood, staring at her son. "Don't forget who you're talking to. I am your mother, and your liege lord, you will talk to me with respect or not at all.
"At least, hear me out!" Beor said, getting frustrated by the situation.
"No", Meage said, stubborn," I will not listen to foolishness such as , go. Our business here is done. Your request is denied." She finished, crossing her arms.
"It wasn't a request, mother."
The room turned glacial. She turned to her son, only to see him looking at her with his gold amber eyes that she loved so when he was but a babe. They were filled with the same cold fury that made the Mormont who they were.
" Beg your pardon?" she asked, not sure if she should be proud or insulted.
"I was not asking you, I was telling."
She laughed at that. It was a dry laugh, similar to what hyena would do when challenged.
"The boy went to war and now think himself a man" she said, sneering at him. Why couldn't he just stay? Why did she let him go back then? Why did he have to be so bright, so different?
"I have better things to do than exchanging barbs with you. We will talk later when you have calmed down." Beor said, rising from his seat, and making to leave to room.
"Why?" his mum voice stopped him in his tracks. He had never heard her sound so... fragile.
"Why can't you just stay here with me? With your family? Why can't you be a normal boy and do normal things boys your age do?" She was looking at him now, all her fury gone, her eyes expressing the pain she was feeling.
" You wouldn't understand, mother, it's complicated." Beor answered, unsure on how to proceed. He had not expected such an outburst from the normally stoic woman. And he hadn't done his best either to defuse the situation.
"You're right, I don't understand you, Beor. I love you with all the strength the gods could ever give, but I don't understand you. I never did.", she answered with a candidness that tore through the young Mormont's heart.
"You're not like us, the girls and I. You're not like your uncle or Jorah nor your father. You don't have a single friend your age. Always cooped up in that "laboratry" of yours- she said that while making a dismissive hand gesture- , writing and doing things that were not meant for me to understand.
She looked resigned, as if she knew she had already lost this battle and the countless ones to come.
"I feared that day will come, Beor ever since you said your first words." she said, pulling her cloak around her, suddenly feeling a cold that wasn't there to be felt.
"The day were Bear Island would be to small for you. I wished it were enough, I wish we would be enough."
"I'm doing this for us, you know", Beor said. He was sad that she thought of him this way, but it was understandable. In his head, he was a seventy year old man, with his values and ideas already formed. To her he was just a boy of two and ten, that she was scared to lose a second time.
He was supposed to be a child, but he only looked like one, and took every chance at independence he could, and that was before he returned famous and obscenely rich.
He also thought differently from the people of Bear Island and the Westerosi in general. To most people, their little village, their island, was their whole life. Most of them were born, grew up and will die in that same general area. But he was born in world where the wolrd was made small because great people had done what he was setting off to do.
" You are right, mother. Bear Island is too small for me. But I want it to big enough for me, for all of us. Don't you have enough of being scared of the winter, wondering if we'll have enough food? Or being scared of savages raiding our lands ?
I have enough ekeing out a living, being noble just by chance, with nothing to prove for it. We can be so much more, mother. I wish you could only see."
Maege could see that, she really could. She knew everything Beor did was for the benefit of not only House Mormont, but the Island. He hated the idea of his people living in squalor and did his darndest to make their life better. He just so happen to make a lot of coin doing so. She could see where he wanted to take them. To the heights he wanted to carry his house. And that scared her.
"We aren't meant to fly so close to the sun, my love", she said, taking his hands, and staring at his beautiful eyes. By the gods, did she love her boy.
"Why can't this be enough, Beor? We have food aplenty, we are rich, thanks to you. You have brought respect to the name of Mormont. What else is there? Why isn't this enough? She asked, desperately trying to convince the foolish boy.
"We are meant to know our place, my baby." She said softly, hugging him, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder. "We have been chosen by the gods to rule Bear Island, and now Sea Dragon Point. Isn't that enough?
Beor pulled away at that, looking at her, with that same look he had when he was talking to the maester or the other crafstmen that had taken to following him around like pups following their mum. She hated that look almost as much as she loved him. Almost.
"Nobody chooses for me, mother. Not the gods, not the king, not the Starks" Maege's eyes widenend at that.
"I am my own man, mother. I will not let another dictate my life. We can be more. We can be better. You might not understand now, but soon you will." he said, solemn.
Maege looked at him, looking for something. She saw no malice or arrogance. No spite towards the world or anger towards the gods. Just certainty.
As if the man was assured in the righteousness of his cause, that he would change the world or burn it if they resisted. That certainty, that promise frightened her to the core of her very being. That look had no business being on her boy's face. But she loved him so.
So she did what any good mother did. She hugged him again, sniffling.
"Sometimes I wonder how old you are, carrying such burdens. You might be mad, son. And I be making the single biggest mistake of my life, but I will trust you."
Beor sagged in relief, holding his mother tight in his arms.
"I love you, mother."
"I love you too, son."
They stood, in silence, the mother frightened but ready to defend her cub, and the son just happy to hug her mum.
-Breakline-
Tried to make it more character-oriented, this chapter, to kind of explain why it'd be hard to do all that change, especially lasting ones, in Westeros. The economic system, the socio political landscape, and the mentality of the time, especially in the North, would make it hard for most people to jump at the changes.
Also I enjoy writing Beor and Maege for some reason, so that's fun. Hope you enjoy.