Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Two (Completed)

Writer as Researcher fanfiction piece

A/N- So, I was finally given the go-ahead by my lecturer to share my game of thrones fanfiction/adaptation piece which accompanied my research paper into the significant effect of Fanfiction on modern literature and film. And this, right here, is that piece. I hope you all enjoy it and that I did our little community credit.  There will be a link to the research paper in the comments below.

Synopsis:

The Stanleys are one of the most successful steel producing families in the world, though they are based in the North of England. A rival business (the Lumleys) is growing and spreading from their small client-base in the South of London to a national phenomenon, and the Stanleys are no longer turning a profit. No one is quite sure how they are producing such a fine product for such a reasonable price, but the Stanley family intends to find out. Full of twists and turns, this corporate thriller explores the topics of slave labour and the cut-throat world of U.K. business. This work is based on George R.R. Martin's popular 'Game of Thrones' Novels, and this influence can be seen throughout. The Stanleys are based on the Starks and the Lumleys are based on the Lannisters. 

Creative piece:

The room was silent as Mr Stanley paced, his eyes flitting between the thin carpet tiles and the whiteboard which ran the length of the front wall. His hands were unable to remain in one place, moving from his pockets to his face, and then joining together in front of his stomach for a moment, before repeating the cycle.

His daughter was agitated, her face littered with wrinkles where it was usually so smooth. She was still sitting, her legs crossed and her foot bouncing awkwardly where it hung from her ankle.

"Perhaps we should run the numbers again," she started, her voice soft as he glanced over at her older brother. Roger seemed as confused as she was, and her pleading eyes made no difference to his rounded-off shoulders and squared jaw, as he sent her a barely noticeable shrug. "It must have been a miscalculation somewhere," she added, but her father continued to pace, his feet slapping on the floor.

Suddenly his feet stopped, his eyes shifting to her for just a moment before returning to the board. "I did the calculations myself." Sophia fell silent, her breathing coming in one long draw.

"Oh," she answered, biting down lightly on her lip as she considered her next words. "Maybe I should run through them again, anyway. Just in case."

Her father's eyes fell closed, and Sophia felt her entire body tense as she watched him, now standing completely still in the middle of the room.

"Who do you think I am?" he asked her, his voice low as his eyes finally reopened, fixing her with a stare that burrowed its way deep into her body, tucking itself away right between her heart and her lung. "Do you honestly believe I would have called you here if I wasn't completely certain?"

"No, Father," she uttered softly, her fingers linking together in her lap, and keeping her eyes busy. "I just want to help." She flinched, feeling his hand come and rest on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Any words that came to him in that moment went unsaid, passed on through a single touch, and he gave her a short nod.

"We need to find a way to cut costs." Roger had finally joined the conversation, though somewhat too late to save his sister her scolding. "Lowest price on the market and we'll be turning a bigger profit than ever." His eyes narrowed as Sophia shook her head in frustration.

She finally lifted her eyes from her hands, glancing across the wide table at her brother.

"And where do you suppose we cut costs?" The question hung in the air, like a smell that just refused to fade. "We can't cut labour, or we will lose good workers; we can't lower the production quality or no one will buy from us."
She raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for his answer. "Unless you're willing to take a pay cut, we don't have much room to maneuver." Roger shrugged again, causing Sophia to release a drawn-out sigh, grumbling as she lifted her fingers to run over her temples.