Just a short story about what I always dreamed of if I was rich. I've always wanted to open a soup kitchen for the poor but I lack the skill to make soup, the money to make one, and the time. This fanfic is just me indulging in my fantasy.
I originally deleted it, but thingking about it, it was a really dick move from my part. Sorry about that.
A Soup Kitchen
Werndly is an old hungry man.
Sitting with his back meeting a dirty wall with puddles almost reaching his feet. Draped in rags, barefooted, and no more earthly possession. That's all he has and that he will always have.
It's been days since anything entered his belly. The last thing he remembered eating was some leftover bones from a local tavern tossed on the streets. He remembered having to fight with everything he got without hurting anybody to get a piece of the food; he remembered only managing to secure 10 swallows- 10 small swallows.
He always looks for work, but what can an old man do? His body was too frail to lift a crate and too slow to be a messenger, add to that he is also illiterate. Trying to beggar the people of Flea Bottom is not going to give him any food. Everyone here is poor with no money to be able to feed even themselves. How could he expect to get any food out of such a low-basing act? He would not steal since his faith in The Seven is as strong as Valyrian steel. No matter how poor he is he would never be of a poor character, his mother taught him better than to steal from others.
A rumbling was felt and heard in his stomach. Holding it trying to contain the hunger. He grimaced and wanted to puke something acidic unknown to him why. When the acidic puke was about to get out, he swallowed it forcefully. No way he would waste any food that he could save. He looked ahead at the sky above, sighed then closed them, accepting the truth he always knew.
"Dying with starvation but having pure life is fulfilling to my heart. But I always want to eat even the slightest crumb of bread." He muttered then prayed. "Oh lord of whom I always pray to. Please answer this one for me. All I want in my life is to be inside your realm and be at your side. I haven't stolen something that isn't mine even when my stomach rumbles, never taken away from the fatherless of what they have, and always believe in you all for the chance to be in your paradise. But just this once- just this once, give this humble servant a warm meal to eat for just this once." Tears started to streak across his dirty cheek as all the sadness he had held and endured came bursting forward all at once.
"Your prayer has been heard." Werndyl opened his eyes with shock for in front of him was a noble with soft skin, black hair like the night sky, and lilac golden eyes, not tall, not short, fairly nourished, and wearing fine simple black clothing with a sigil on his chest to signify his house and noble lineage yet he wore no jewelry. He smiled at Werndly, showing that he is kind and meant no harm, wiping the tears across his cheeks with such tenderness that the tears he wiped were immediately replaced. "Why would you cry once more when I tried to console you? Did I do something wrong to sadden you?"
"N-no m'lord." Werndyl smiled. "You did nothing wrong."
My new name is Leirra Gaunt. Son of the now-dead Herevan Gaunt and the niece of the now-dead Gwayne Gaunt, a former king's guard under the mad king. I am the last member of my house, left with a castle to rule in the Crownlands and being seen as a potential enemy because of my family's previous loyalty.
But before that my previous identity was a normal boy; as much normal as a geek could have. I still remember the life I once had: A big house, a cordial family, and almost finishing high school. I hope all of my loved ones in my previous life found peace after I left them.
The first thing I remembered after I left my previous body and before acquiring my current one is me floating in the deep blue sky. I remembered how free I was with no constraint on my body. A large expansion of blue seas above and below. It made me feel tiny and insignificant but I was happy- happy to know my place and the limitless freedom I've gained. Then a golden light blinded me and all the warmth that came with it. I feel as if God was grasping me with his gentle hands and carrying me to my next life. The next thing I knew I was inside a crib being tended by servants and my mother, who at that time was already frail and sick.
I cried so hard that day.
The first week of my new life was… Difficult. Not physically per se but mentally. The embrace I felt during that limbo time made a giant hole that will never be filled by any form of men's pleasures. All of my previous life's worldly problems disappeared when I was there and eternal peace of mind and body I think I had achieved. Then there was that light. It was so majestic. I cried every time I remember the feeling of that light enveloping my body. A greater being has caressed and thrust me into a new world for what purpose I do not know. That doesn't matter, what does matter, for me, at least that God is real. I know it, I felt it, no matter how brief that one light was enough to make my belief in him strong. Since the moment I was born, I have prayed to him with all of my heart and asked for his forgiveness. For when a child knows he is wrong he would always asks for forgiveness.
After the whole resolving my faith then I tried to know where I'd reincarnated exactly. It is certainly somewhere in the middle ages, or a world that has a similar level of technology and culture with me living inside a castle and servants treating me like I was a lordling. Well, that is because I am, but you get the point. Their language gives me some clue about where I am when I hear archaic English words such as thee, thy, thou, and thou'rt. I know that I'm in England. Oh no, I'm in England. 'I don't want to eat jellied eel or fish inside a pie!!! Please God save me from this culinary hell hole!!' That was my first reaction upon coming up with the wrong conclusion about where I am. A bit dramatic but completely justifiable. The next clue I get is when the name Robert Baratheon was dropped which made me realize I was in a different universe entirely. I was so ecstatic that I wasn't in England only to pale again that I was inside a slightly worse option.
Westeros
A place where incest is common in the royal court, where bastards (insult not the status) justifiable or not try to sit on a bloated chair at the cost of the common folk, and where honorable men die for the sake of the unworthy.
Why does it have to be Westeros?
Not only do I have to fear my second round of puberty but also ice zombies and possible fire dragon breath plus whatever Euron Greyjoy is planning with his Cthulhu ass.
The first five years of my life were easy. I learned to walk and speak faster than most children which made my mother proud of me.
Mother
Lady Lauriel Gaunt
She is a sad widow. Losing her beloved husband in the rebellion; her entire side of the family is gone leaving only me to be her only left. That's why I've made it my mission that even if she isn't my first and technically 3rd mother, I would still treat and respect her like a dutiful child should. She is sick after all. When I was born she only had under 10 years of life in her. She deserved to have the rest of the year happy with her life. But every time I tried to make her happy, she would only give me those sad lilac golden eyes, and a melancholic smile. Not the joyous one I was looking for but I will never give up for her sake.
Besides making it my mission to have my mother have a happy life, I've also made it my mission to make her proud of me. I've trained harder than most boys would with ser Calith our master of arms and spending most of my free time learning with Maester Ormond. Taking my position as heir and last member of House Gaunt besides my mother seriously. Maester Ormond and Ser Calith told me that I am a talented young man, having the skill of someone twice or thrice my age. The statement from Maester Ormond didn't surprise me since high school education seemed like the equivalent Maester has minus the healing part. What does surprise me, however, is what Ser Calith said about me, I've never had any experience with the matter of war in my previous life except for playing Total war in my free time and the occasional EU4, so when he said I was so talented with the sword it was enough for me to join the King' guard if I entered at the appropriate age. Not gonna lie, his praising of my skill made me on the high moon for months. Most likely that the skill my uncle posses is hereditary, at least I hope so.l
Other than training and studying all day, I also attended the congregation in the nearest sept with the local small folk, not because of me trying to cultivate a good image for myself but a genuine belief in the divine. I don't know if The Seven is real. I only know that God is real, and I must worship him. The reason why I choose to join the congregation is that it is the only thing that resembles a religious building in Westeros that is near me.
The second five years of my life weren't as easy as my first. Mother's health was getting worse. I tried everything to nurture her to be healthy by buying medicine from Essos, finding foreign Doctors, and even cooking her food to eat. All of them aren't effective, but at least my food made her slightly happy with those melancholic smiles of hers. Again not the true joyous smile I was looking for. Because she is stuck in her bed I was the one who always fed her as sometimes her hand was too frail to move. Thankfully she isn't that weak that I have to chew the food for her, but if the situation calls for it I will gladly do it without a second thought.
I also made my own trading company. I called it The East and West Essosi trading Company, not the most creative name but it perfectly describes what I am doing. My father left a considerable amount of wealth in our coffers enough for me to commission a trading mission to look for spice and luxury goods to sell to the consumer in Westeros, it was a gamble, as pirates can destroy the ship or the ship captain I commissioned could just sell those goods alone and take the profit for himself. Thankfully that didn't happen, the ship returned and the profit from the expedition was enough for me to do another and another until eventually, I had an entire fleet consisting of 20 ships. Add that the land I inherited meets the sea; it was a no-brainer for me to set up a port, a small port but it's a start.
The profit from my company was enough to invest in the people I served. Yes, served. I didn't waste that extra wealth for self-interest instead investing in the land I have. Building infrastructure, giving better equipment, giving better farming techniques to my farmers, and also funding education by building schools. The last part made Maester Ormond question my decision. He said: " Forgive me, Lord 'Eirra, I must ask, why did you build these schools for the small folk? Their work doesn't require them to read and count. I can't find anything gained from what you called investment."
To which I responded, " What you said has merit. True, the small folk don't need to count and write to tend to their land. It might seem I'm spending money unwisely just because I am too idealistic and kind. But make no mistake, I didn't do this for no reason. I have plans for our newly educated populace."
"What kind of plan, Lord 'Eirra?" Ormond asked, intrigued about what I wanted to say.
" Do you still remember that census I discussed with you?"
"Yes, I remember. I said there aren't enough literate men…" Maester Ormond smiled. "I should've known. Your father would be very proud of you, Leirra." I smiled back at him. When Maester Ormond left my office I released a deep breath of relief.
I chuckled sometimes remembering that memory. In truth, I did not have any plan at all when I built those schools. I did it just because it was the right thing to do. And the thought about the census was the spur-at-the-moment idea. When I proposed to do a census Maester Ormond was against it because of the lack of qualified personnel. I accepted it and forgot about my own proposal entirely until the day Maester Ormond confronted me when I built those schools. Lucky me I guess.
All is well. My lands are prospering, my subjects are happy, and I was happy. Everything was just right in the world.
My mother's sickness got worse.
It was Sunday evening. She wanted to go outside and see the lowering of the sun. When the maid told me of her request, I personally walked into her room to help her get up and dress, then supported her to walk to the garden I made for her. She was coughing , hard, I tried to reason that she should stay in bed but she won't heed me. Instead, she ruffled my hair and smiled- a joyous smile with teary eyes then knelt to see me face to face.
"My son whom I love. Please give me my last wish."
Her last wish.
"Y-your l-last wish?" I said in disbelief. "Mother please don't jest," my voice cracked, "What do you mean by Your- your- your…
"...last wish," she said with barely contained emotion.
My breath hitched, and water came out of my eyes. I hugged her, I hugged her so hard that day. She hugged back and we both cried. This is my final day with her. My final day with my mother. When we arrive at the garden she sits on a white wooden chair and I stand beside her. We watched the orange sky for the first time and the last time as mother and son.
"Leirra."
"Yes, mother?"
"What is your dream? I've never known them as your mother."
"My… Dream." There was silence for a moment as I tried to find my answer. "I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"Yeah…" Mother laughed upon hearing my answer and just shook her head amused.
"Do you want to hear my dreams?" she said with a small smile. I just answered her with a slight nod. "I want to help the poor by giving them food and shelter. It has been my dream since I was a child. Your father when he hears my dream approves immensely and my dream also becomes his. We were about to make an order to help the poor but the war stopped us. Then your father died and my health failing. I will never achieve my dream. Leirra would you?"
"I will, mother. From now on and until my death I will fulfill it. God as my witness you have my word." Mother cried once more and hugged me again.
"Thank you Leirra. Thank you very much."
The next day she died with a happy content smile on her face. The funeral was held the next two days in the entire town and villages near my castle attended the funeral with some friendly noble who came to give me their condolences. Some of their intentions are pure while some were driven by greed. Nonetheless, I served as the best host I could for them.
The very next week after the funeral ceremony was done I made a new organization. In honor of her.
The Lauriel-Herevan Foundation
Sorry this is just my self-indulgence fic.