These improvements swirled in Cregan's mind as he set the ledger aside and grabbed a blank parchment and quill, his thoughts pouring out onto the page as he began drafting ideas to fix Winterfell's bookkeeping and tax collection systems.
As his quill scratched across the parchment, he could hear Maester Luwin murmuring under his breath every so often, his voice filled with awe.
"Oh, ah, marvelous… ingenious… this could certainly help… oh, praise the old gods…"
Ned, overhearing Maester Luwin's quiet exclamations, couldn't resist his curiosity. He stood from his seat and walked over to the maester's side, peering over his shoulder at the drawings and explanations Cregan had written. His attention was fully on the designs now, completely absorbed in the possibilities that lay before him. He barely noticed Cregan, who was still diligently working at the table, drafting further improvements.
Maester Luwin, after reviewing the designs, couldn't help but admire Cregan's brilliance. The boy was far beyond his years, and the maester mused that if Cregan were sent to Oldtown, he would make a remarkable maester. But that was a thought for another day.
Turning to Ned, who was holding the design for a loom and reading the accompanying explanation, Maester Luwin spoke with conviction. "My Lord, Cregan's ideas are not only feasible, but they could greatly improve our wool production. As for the agricultural tools, while they may be a bit costly due to the need for iron, they would certainly pay for themselves by increasing grain yields."
He then began to explain each design in further detail, outlining how each innovation—whether for wool processing or farming—could make a substantial difference in the North's economy. Though he had a few questions for Cregan himself, he focused on convincing Ned, which, judging by the Lord of Winterfell's expression, didn't seem like it would be a difficult task.
"Maester Luwin, I want you to take these designs to Mikken," Ned said, his voice steady but laced with intent. "Have him work with the woodworkers to craft these tools. But choose only trustworthy men, especially for the loom." His expression hardened as he added, "We can't keep the agricultural tools secret for long, but the loom—there's potential there. If we keep its construction discreet, we could ensure House Stark profits from it for a time. Set up a closed workshop. Have different craftsmen work on individual parts to minimize the chance of anyone piecing the full design together."
Ned's emphasis on secrecy was natural for a noble. The agriculture tools would spread, but the loom—that could remain an advantage for Winterfell, if only for a few years.
When Ned turned toward Cregan, he noticed his younger brother scribbling on a piece of parchment while occasionally glancing at the ledger. A mix of curiosity and pride flickered in his eyes as he watched the boy work.
"What are you doing, Cregan?" Ned asked, his voice warm with curiosity.
Cregan didn't look up right away, still focused on what he was writing. But Ned's question lingered in the air. Ned couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. His younger brother had contributed so much already—to House Stark and the North itself. Whether it was idea of selling ice to the South or creating the designs that could revolutionize their industries, all these ideas had come from Cregan.
He had already earned more than recognition. If these innovations bore fruit, Ned knew Cregan deserved a reward—perhaps a land and title when the time was right.
Cregan looked up from the parchment with a small, sheepish smile. "Pardon my language, but I truly don't know how you can make sense of anything from this... uh, shit ledger." He handed the document to Ned, who raised an eyebrow at the bluntness.
Maester Luwin, standing nearby, coughed awkwardly, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. After all, he had been the one to compile parts of the ledger, even if much of it had been copied from different stewards or was a result of tallying scattered numbers.
The parchment Cregan presented had clear categories—taxes, household expenses, income from the land—all neatly divided. In addition, he had drafted a standardized format, with precise columns for dates, descriptions, amounts, and purposes. Some of the actual information from the old ledger had been transferred into this new system, providing a clear example of how it would work.
Ned glanced at the clean lines, the organized numbers, and the simplicity of the format. His expression shifted, clearly impressed.
"This... this does make things clearer," Ned admitted. Maester Luwin, despite his earlier embarrassment, nodded in agreement, though he couldn't resist a faint smile as he studied Cregan's work.
"It's a marked improvement, my lord. A far cry from the mess we've been working with," Maester Luwin said, his tone respectful, though the blow to his pride was evident.
Suddenly, without warning, Ned pushed the old ledger toward Cregan. "Why don't you transfer everything from the ledger to this new method?" he asked, his expression calm but expectant.
Cregan blinked, staring at his brother with a mix of disbelief and amusement. Is this what older brothers do? He thought to himself. He had already contributed more than enough—now Ned wanted a nine-name-day child to spend countless hours, maybe even days, reworking the ledger.
Cregan looked at Ned in a whole new light, his thoughts laced with dry humor. This is child abuse, he mused. Thankfully, the well-timed growl of his stomach interrupted the awkward moment.
"I've been working since morning and haven't eaten anything," Cregan said, causing both Ned and Maester Luwin to exchange embarrassed glances.
Maester Luwin, quick to step in, cleared his throat. "Now that I've seen the format, I can handle it for you, Lord Stark. Besides, I'm already familiar with much of the information, so it would be quicker for me." He gave Cregan a small nod of thanks for sparing him the tedious task.
OOO
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