GOT: A Transmigrator's Conquest

The next morning, Stannon woke up to a painful cramp in his leg.

"Damn it!" he almost shouted, grabbing his thigh as his leg shot straight up in the air. The cramp was intense, and he gritted his teeth, waiting for it to go away.

"F*ck..." he groaned, rubbing his leg furiously. After what felt like forever, the pain finally eased, leaving his leg sore but manageable.

He sighed, dropping his leg back onto the bed.

"Great start to the day," he muttered to himself, annoyed.

Stannon sat up on his bed, rubbing his eyes as he tried tone down his annoyance. He had a busy day ahead, and the first thing on his list was to talk to Jon and Lord Stark about something simple but important—soap.

For the past few days, Stannon had been thinking about ways to make money. He wanted to create his own network of guards and spies, just like Middlefinger and baldy. But building a network like that would cost a lot of money, and the 20 gold coins he got as a monthly pocket money from the king weren't nearly enough.

That's when Stannon came up with an idea. He realized that most people in the Westroes didn't have a good substitute for soap, and even the nobles only used scented oils and essences, herbal infusions, etc...which were quite expensive. If he could create a soap—something that smelled good and was affordable—he could sell it and earn a lot of money.

Soap. It was something so simple, so obvious, yet so revolutionary in a world where personal hygiene was often overlooked. Soap wasn't just a tool for cleanliness—it was a commodity, and in a place like Westeros, it could become a luxury product that even the wealthiest lords and ladies would covet.

Selling soap was just the beginning. If he could control the production and distribution, he could establish a steady flow of income. With money came power, and with power came the ability to build his network.

Moreover Stannon had worked in a soap factory himself before arriving in this world. His experience had taught him how to create different types of soap, a skill he believed would be useful in this life. Making soap was fairly simple once you had the right ingredients.

The process involved mixing fat, which could come from various animals, and lye, made by mixing water with ashes from burned wood. After mixing the ingredients, the mixture would be poured into molds and left to harden for several weeks. Once the soap had hardened, it could be cut into bars for use.

To make scented soap, herbs or flowers like lavender, rosemary, or rose petals could be added. Oils, such as olive oil, could be used to improve texture and add fragrance.

Also living n Winterfell, Stannon knew his soap-making skills were a great catch, especially in a place where the cold made people appreciate small comforts. And frankly he missed bathing with soap like in his previous life.

He let out a huge yawn and streched his upper body.

'Middle Finger had his brothels. Baldy had whispers. I'll have...soap,' he thought, smiling at the genius idea of his.

But he knew he couldn't do it alone. He needed the king's and Lord Ned's help to sell it in Westroes. If the plan worked, it would be the first step toward funding his dream of building a powerful network.

With an excited look, Stannon got out of bed and began getting ready for his talk with both Jon and Ned. He wasn't just thinking about soap anymore—he was thinking about the future.

As Stannon was thinking about swimming in a swimming pool full of gold coins, far away in King's Landing, a different kind of fight was happening.

The sun shown down hard on the training grounds of King's Landing, . The sound of weapons clashing and strained grunts filled the air as people gathered around to watch. In the middle stood King Robert Baratheon and Jaime Lannister—both sweating and half-naked under the heat, taking a small break.

Robert, once known for his heavy frame and love of food and drink, had changed. His belly, which used to hang low, was gone, replaced by abs and lean muscles. He stood tall and strong, gripping his heavy warhammer, which shone in the sunlight.

The fight began quickly, with Jaime moving first. He charged forward, his sword aimed at Robert's midsection. Robert swung his warhammer in response, the heavy weapon hitting the ground just inches from Jaime's feet. The ground shook, and Jaime jumped back, narrowly avoiding the blow.

Jaime quickly recovered and lunged again, but Robert's movements were smooth and powerful. Each swing of his warhammer made the ground tremble. Jaime dodged, blocked, and countered, but Robert's strength was too much. He easily stopped Jaime's sword with his hammer, his muscles working with surprising grace.

Jaime's speed and agility were impressive, but Robert's strength was unmatched. The warhammer swung down again, and Jaime barely rolled out of the way in time. The hammer hit the ground with a loud crash, and Jaime stumbled back.

The next swing was even stronger, and Jaime had to retreat quickly. His feet slid in the dust, and as he tried to regain his balance, Robert moved in. With one swift motion, Robert's warhammer struck Jaime, sending him crashing to the ground. The air was knocked out of Jaime, and he lay there gasping for breath.

Robert stood over him, his warhammer raised in victory, but instead of striking again, he lowered the weapon. His breathing was steady despite the tough fight.

Jaime, still on the ground, looked up at Robert, his chest heaving. His face had look of defiance and unwillingness but he didn't say anything.

Robert, still catching his breath, looked down at the defeated knight. There was something else on his mind. He had kept his promise. It was hard, very hard, but he had persisted. The promise he had made to his son to change and regain control of his life lingered in his thoughts. It had been Stannon who made him realize that it wasn't too late to change, and he had done it for himself as much as for the promise to his beloved son.

'I would like to see the shock on the boy's face when he returns,' Robert couldn't help but get happy at that thought.

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Meanwhile back at Winterfell....

Stannon walked out of Lord Stark's room, the door closing softly behind him. A smile spread across his face as he thought about the conversation. His heart was still racing, but now it felt more like excitement than nerves.

He looked back at the door, remembering how Stark had listened carefully, and Jon had backed him up. They had understood. It wasn't just about soap—it was about control, getting money, and building something bigger.

He had successfully garnered their support in bringing his idea to life.

Now, he just needed Jon to talk to Robert, get his approval which he would get, no doubt, and then they could start making the soap. If everything went as planned, he would have a steady income and a way to start building his network of guards and spies.

He smiled to himself as he walked down the hall, thinking about what would happen next. The hard part was done. He had convinced them. Now, it was just a matter of making it happen.

He could already see the soap everywhere, nobles buying it, the money coming in. The kingdom would get its share, Stark would see a steady flow of profit, and Stannon would have the resources to grow his network. He wasn't just a ward at Winterfell anymore—he was someone with a plan, someone who was about to make a lot of money.

His smile grew wider. This was just the beginning.

A.N: Map of GOT

•• Westroes

•• Essos

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