Time passed quickly after the tourney. The days melded together into weeks. Then months. Edmure arrived and took up his squiring duties with eagerness; I made sure that he learned swordplay under the Kingsguard, and the finer points of ruling from me. Lord Hoster was a bit displeased with that, but he was mollified soon enough by my arguments that other perspectives on ruling would leave his son more capable of thinking critically about a situation - 'Like adding different weapons to your kit for fighting different types of soldiers,' was the metaphor I used.
Benjen took to his tutelage quickly as well, and he visited me and Lyanna often, mostly to chat about things. After their separation for so long, the two younger siblings warranted some time together in my opinion. And speaking of Lyanna, we grew closer in that time. I never did quite tell her the truth of my secret, always searching for the best time, but the cover story held up well enough for my liking.
Her ladies arrived in dribs and drabs, joining the court and bringing color to it; it seemed like every week my attention had to turn to this or that scandal between my entourage of pages, wards, and squires and the flock of ladies my Queen had gathered. When Garlan arrived there was quite a stir; as it turned out, young Lynesse was not so fond of her cousin - some past quibble she still bore resentment over, from what I gathered.. The feeling was mutual, it seemed, and some valuable effort was spent on keeping the two out of each other's way. Humfrey seemed split between familial loyalty and his newfound friends, but eventually chose the latter.
In fact, my efforts to bond the four together seemed to be going well. Benjen was a bit too old for them, but sometimes he participated like an older brother might. Getting Tyrion and Garlan to stop sneaking into the library was a frustrating exercise, I admit. Still, Garlan fit well into the group; able to match Edmure well in sword fighting with some training, willing to play plenty of games with Renly, ready to gush over the Reach with his cousin, and the only one to hold a candle to Tyrion's love of books.
I was satisfied with my choices in that regard. Hell, even the courtship between Stannis and Alysanne Hightower was going decently; she had a vibrancy to her that managed to draw even Stannis from his shell, bit by bit, and it was good to see him enjoying life. He lost his gauntness with time, though the furrow to his brow seemed permanent. The wedding bells for those two would no doubt ring soon.
That was good, since my other fronts were proving more troublesome. My meeting with the Braavosi had its ups and downs - they had been offended by the founding of the new bank, but the incentives I offered in a partnership against the Stepstones had been alluring. They could not come to any decision without the Sealord's approval, and he would need to speak with the keyholders of the Iron Bank, they informed me with some chagrin. So they sailed, and I did not hear from them from months.
My attention turned to other focuses. The consolidation of the crownlands had its ups and downs; I had to put down a few insurgent lords who wanted to reclaim the land, but mostly my focus was administrative. Organizing farms so that the various needs of the city would be met without having to buy food from the Reach; that and working out new paths for roads and overseeing their construction took up my focus for three weeks straight, alongside building new bridges and fortifications in key points, in the event of rebellion. Tywin was settling in on the wall, but his memory still haunted me.
The charters for Fairmarket and the Weeping Town down in the Stormlands went through, but then I had to settle half a hundred disputes between landed knights in those areas and the burghers about who got what rights. The trade from them would be a boon, and with the surveys for both the castle at the Blue Fork and the canal underway, Fairmarket would soon be a central trading point.
Navigating the Dornish was a tricky question, of course. I managed to catch Doran before he returned home, and his interest in my ideas - sweetened by the promise of royal aid in paying for them - meant he left behind an envoy to work things out. Irrigating more of Dorne would be a costly project, but the climate was well suited to cotton, and with a cotton gin the already fair amount of cotton produced there would be greatly expanded. All of that was a ways off, of course, which was likely for the best; my memory of the cotton gin was vague at best and would need much refinement from Pycelle. (his exasperation at having to constantly test new inventions was tempered by the praise heaped on him by fellow intellectuals and the credit I gave to him when showing them off, thankfully. Thank god for toadies.)
Then my focus was turned towards the trade fleet, which was finally setting off now that the summer weather had arrived. Once I had seen Ser Davos off, my focus turned to the west, where the Ironborn seemed to be constantly simmering. The ship I had given to the Farwynds had been put to good use, it seemed, since they had found a small archipelago to the west beyond the old supply limits. The Farwynds were claiming the right of conquest, while the Greyjoys demanded the islands due to the overpopulation of Pyke. Since their longships could only barely reach the islands even knowing where they were, they were having a great deal of trouble actually enforcing the claim. And I had promised the Farwynds the lion's share of their expedition, admittedly.
While neither side wanted to break and come to me for mediation, given their honor was overkeen and waiting to be tested, I stepped in of my own volition to act as negotiator. I had them meet on Great Wyk, which was a salty, windswept place at the best of times. Lord Greyjoy was mutinous at the prospect of a greenlander intervening, of course, but he was clearly not ready to rebel any time soon either. While it was true that men from Lonely Light had found it, their island was sparsely populated; Pyke was not. Folk from all the islands would be allowed to settle, but a Farwynd captain would have the lordship. The settlement satisfied neither side completely, but their mutinous outrage had subsided to grumbling, and I counted that as a win. When I got back, I was glad to be in the city again, shit smell and all.
It wasn't long after I returned that Lyanna came to me, one summer evening. I found myself on one of the balconies adjoining our suite, looking out over the city. She looked radiant in the setting sun's light, her fair skin made golden by its rays. "Robert," she said, stepping closer and pressing her hand to my chest. The warmth between us was quiet, pleasant, just a bare hint. It was a scene that had played out many times since our marriage, as we grew to know each other.
But then, it was also different. Her eyes looked up at mine, searching thoughtfully, and then she spoke. "I'm with child," she murmured.
"That's wonderful," I said, my eyes flickering down to her stomach. It didn't look any bigger, though her hand came up to cup it protectively. "How long have you known?" I asked.
"I've suspected for some time… my moon blood did not come, but I wanted to check and be sure. Pycelle confirmed it," she admitted.
My thoughts turned to Brandon for a moment. Brandon who was growing up amidst summer snows and with his cousin - cousins, soon enough, if the letter from Ned was right - Brandon who Lyanna asked after sometimes in her letters north, who she tried to hide her tears over. Then they turned to the babe. It was vague in my mind, only a tuft of black hair and blue eyes with a formless face. I thought of Mya, who was growing up in the Vale, and Bella, who should have been born by now.
My thoughts raced quickly in a few seconds, but soon enough she brought me back to earth. She often did. "I hope it is a boy," she murmured. Another, she did not say.
"I will love it just as fiercely whether it's a boy or a girl," I replied back. She smiled at that, and I realized that even without the sun illuminating her she had a glow to her.
"I don't doubt you will." Her kiss was sweet, and her touch sweeter. When we were spent and lying next to each other, sharing in the sweaty heat, I finally told her.
The words came bitterly to my lips, but eventually they came. I started by speaking of beginnings, because that was what made sense to me; but eventually I grew lost in my own stories, and the night passed on murmured words and the trailing touch of her fingers soothing me when it grew too difficult to speak. When I was done - or rather, no longer able to speak - she broke the soft silence that had settled over us.
"This world of yours sounds like a strange and amazing place," she said, humming thoughtfully. "Will you ever go back?" she asked, though it sounded rhetorical more than anything.
"No," I said, my voice scratchy from overuse.
She kissed my nose. "Then hold those memories close, but do not forget where you are."
I had pledged my love in the sept, all those months ago, but this time felt more special, the words more meaningful on my lips. It would not be the last, I promised to myself.
After that day, I felt better. Having someone know the whole truth was freeing, in a way. It was a good thing, too, since the burden of war would soon fall upon my shoulders.
I found myself staring at the peaches on the center table, my fingers drumming absently against the table. Some ancient oaken thing meant to impress. It was also decent acoustically. "Your Grace," Edmure said softly, drawing my attention long enough for my focus to snap instead to the Braavosi envoy, who moved past the doorway with a graceful gait that added to his otherwise muted appearance. The man glanced over Jon and Edmure, his eyes lingering on my crown for a moment before he nodded, bowing shallowly.
"I have the pleasure of being Harraquo Dynar, envoy of Sealord Belaro Vhaasel." He said, looking us over. "It is good that you are here, King of the Westerosi. This news is of great importance, and the less delay the better, I say."
"I felt it demanded nothing less than my full attention," I said with a shrug.
"Just so. It is known that you made an offer to the Sealord and to the Iron Bank. The latter was simpler, yes, but the first was tricky. The keyholders, magisters and councilors debated for three and thirty days with only breaks for rest and food." That explained the delay, then.
"Braavos has not made many pacts with the Westerosi in recent times, since you have long been ruled by Valyrians. One of such importance required delicate discussion. Eventually, however, the Sealord and his magisters reached a conclusion; they would support your bid for the Stepstones. Ten ships shall join your assault, the finest of the fleet and the best suited for helping your fleets attack the pirates at their weakest." Not many, but I hadn't expected many to begin with. My focus would be on rallying my own new ships not already engaged with trading, and wrangling Hightower and Redwyne into helping with their own fleets.
The man was continuing, I realized. "... comes with a price. All men must pay their due, it is so. You shall help us in defeating the slave trade with the taxes promised, and reductions in tariffs as laid out in previous negotiations. These are the terms of the deal, and should your word prove as solid as iron, perhaps the beginning of a fine pact of friendship." He paused for a long while, and I realized he was done.
"If this is the price I must pay for the support of the Braavosi in holding the Stepstones, let it be so." I said, having one of the scribes bring forth the terms as laid out. Harraquo signed, and then I did, laying my signet into the wax to join the purple sail affixed there.
"The deal is done, then. Expect the ten in a moon's turn," He said.
And so, whether they knew it or not, the pirates of the Stepstones found themselves an enemy. My attention in the next days turned to gathering my own fleet, preparing strategies, and pulling in the Hightowers - getting the Redwynes would be easier when their opponent for naval control was about to gain lands, after all. Keeping the war on the smaller side would be key - forcing the lords to march to war again after only just giving them peace would be unwise.
Thankfully, my meetings with Lord Hightower went well. Having already supported me on the matter of church schools, getting him to commit ships to this was not terribly difficult. So instead, I turned my focus to the Redwynes, asking them to commit ships as well. While I was at it, I sent probing letters to the Citadel, to see if I could get them to compromise on helping me expand literacy. From what I could gather, there were two factions - the Archmaesters who wished to hoard their power, and a more reformist faction broadly composed of the rank and file maesters without noble names who wanted the rewards offered and felt it unlikely that they would rise to the rank of Archmaester. Courting them would be difficult while also managing the war, but I had Stannis and Jon to help me with that.
I was meeting with them three weeks later. The Redwynes had finally committed fifty ships, which, along with the seventy from the Hightowers and the ten from the Braavosi, brought us to about one hundred and eighty five.. Jon consulted a few scraps of parchment.
"There are three pirate lords with more than a dozen ships under their control, if the Braavosi information is accurate. Most travel in smaller packs of three or four."
"Do we have a range of how many ships we'll be fighting?" I wondered, stroking my beard.
"It's more difficult to get a headcount, since the pirates don't tend to stick together. The Braavosi say one hundred and fifty, Lord Estermont reports a hundred and ten, and the Dornish tell us two hundred." Jon said. Stannis grunted, consulting the map.
"Aye, but these pirate lords fight each other near as often as they do outside ships. They'll struggle to band together." Stannis said, pointing to Bloodstone, Grey Gallows and Torturer's deep. "The lords with the largest packs will likely make their home on the largest islands, in order to support their ships."
"Hmm," Jon said, twisting his wine cup thoughtfully. "You propose to destroy them?"
"Yes. Cut the head from the viper." Stannis said, flexing his hand.
"While it would make it difficult for the pirates to rally around them, we also run the risk of making them fearful enough that they band together and assault us."
"It would be difficult for them to do that," Jon said, cocking his head. "The three isles would allow us to drive inwards like so, and cut them off from reinforcing each other."
I rubbed my beard. "We must be prepared for the worst possibility, namely that they unite before we can cut them off and we are the ones divided and conquered."
"Those pirates?" Jon asked, sounding scornful.
"I would not underestimate men who make their living killing others on the seas. Our fleet is untested right now. Our strength, then, is in our ability to bring to bear numbers against the pirates." I explained, looking over the map. "If we gather in packs larger than even the strongest pirate lords, we can cut them down one by one."
"If they see our fleets, won't they simply flee?" Stannis asked.
"You're not wrong. Our goal should be to exploit the gaps between the islands, creating a net of sorts and tightening it until we can wipe them off the map. Depending on how well informed these pirates are, we should only gamble on it the once, so I propose we use it against the strongest pirate lord. Jon, do we have any numbers on them?"
"Yes, Your Grace. The strongest pirate lord is Sarquellos Saan, with a fleet of twenty ships."
"Twenty exactly?" I asked, furrowing my brow.
"It was twenty two, but one of his raids near Pentos was botched. The Braavosi fought him only a handful of moons ago," Jon explained.
"Hmm. The other two?"
"Rogarr Ryndoon claims a hundred ships, but he has closer to sixteen in truth. Nahsella Oresto has thirteen at the most."
"We attack Saan, then. If we can get the other two with a similar trap, all the better, but I would not count on it." I took a sip of my wine, consulting the map. "If he botched a raid only a handful of moons ago, then odds are he is looking for a fat prize to refill his coffers and regain his pride. Perhaps we could bait him into the net," I said, looking to the other two.
Stannis set his jaw. "These pirate lords are wily, Robert. Else the Tyroshi or Lysene navies would have been done with them by now."
"You're right. It would have to be a tempting prize, one that seems well defended but attainable. Four or five ships gathered around a cog, perhaps." My thoughts turned to canon, and a wicked smile crossed my face. "I wonder," I murmured. Jon offered a nervous look to Stannis, who was as grim as ever. "The wildfire is not gone, not truly, correct?"
"Aye, your grace. The pyromancers buried it in sand well outside the city and marked it clearly." Jon cocked his head at me, considering me.
"Consider this; the pirate lord's men board the cog in search of treasure, and find only wildfire. The explosion would likely take out a few ships immediately, and send the rest fleeing… right into the net. Fewer men would have to die."
"Would that not require you to sacrifice four of your own ships?"
"Not entirely. They could put up a fair fight and then flee - a feigned retreat is a valuable tactic, after all. The cog would be the slowest ship, easily caught and seemingly laden with goods."
"A feigned retreat requires immense discipline on the men's parts, though," Jon pointed out. Still, he sounded like he was considering it.
"I fully admit to that. Our men are new and inexperienced. We could use ships with our best captains, or ask the Braavosi to guard it."
"Is it worth risking the Braavosi ships so?" Jon asked. Stannis was staring at the map intently. Finally, he spoke.
"If these pirates want anything, it's revenge." Stannis said. "If they had the opportunity to destroy Braavosi ships, they would take it, would they not?"
"Hmm," I said. "True. Perhaps a loan negotiated with the Iron Bank, carefully leaked to the pirates, would be a convincing enough story to get them to strike."
"Ah, but then their fleeing would be suspicious. And that assumes that the pirates would attack; the Iron Bank has a dreaded reputation," Jon said.
"We should hone the gambit more, then, and consult with the Braavosi. Even without it, though, the noose will tighten on Saan. Our goal should be ensuring the fleets can position themselves well without alerting the pirates too much, and coordinating them to destroy Saan's fleet properly."
"I have some thoughts as to the matter," Jon started.
BONG, BONG, BONG, came the ringing of the bells. "What in the seven hells?" I asked. I opened the door to the council chamber, the others following me. The guard was at the door, fidgeting over a slip of paper. He offered me a slip of paper, though his next words made it redundant.
"My apologies, Your Grace. The news came in only a little while ago, and you asked not to be disturbed." I cocked my brow, and he continued hurriedly. "The High Septon died," he explained.
I paused for a long moment. "May the Seven welcome him well, then."
Jon came up behind me. "Perhaps it is best we leave the meeting for today… the Seven would look down on us with disfavor for ignoring his death."
"Aye," I said after a moment. "I shall arrange to attend his funeral, and more besides. Edmure, would you find the septon of the Keep for me, lad?" I asked.
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Good man," I said, patting his shoulder. He flushed a bit in pride, then took off quickly to find the man.
My meeting was rather anticlimactic; the septon of the Keep was as sycophantic as ever. I suppose I couldn't blame that; it was a necessary tool to survive Aerys. Arranging for the accession of Darien was a simple affair, mostly just confirming old plans.
After that, I visited Lyanna. She was relaxing in the gardens, her ladies in waiting doing most of the talking for her; their gossip was audible enough that it guided me to them. She perked up at the sight of me. "My lord husband," she said, over the hush that had fallen on her ladies in waiting. Then a few of them tittered, others turning to murmur low words to each other. "My ladies," she said, standing and grabbing my arm. If they were put off by her curt goodbye, they didn't show it, and I guided us down one of the more secluded paths.
"Did your meeting go well?"
"Moderately well. Once the Braavosi and Redwynes arrive, we can meet in full, but for now it's mostly talk," I said with a one armed shrug.
"Hmm," she said, nodding her head. "Wildfire, then?"
I furrowed my brows for a moment, before it clicked. "Alysanne?" I asked, in return.
"You've figured me out," she said, looking up at me.
"Stannis grows close to her," I said, looking down at her.
"I should hope so, if he plans to marry her." She offered, a smile crossing her lips.
"I suppose it is not a travesty if he tells her. Perhaps she would have learned it from Lord Hightower instead, if he was there."
"Why he insisted on a hunt now of all times I couldn't say," she said, shaking her head.
"For good luck, like as not. If the gods favor him with a good hunt, then perhaps the campaign shall be good as well."
She tapped her chin. "Perhaps he wanted to spend time with Humfrey," she said. "Gods know if he's not glued to your side he's off with the other boys getting into mischief."
"Perhaps, or perhaps he wants him to get acquainted with more Reachmen," I said with a shrug. Plenty of second sons and cousins had been left behind in the court by the Reachmen, and most were on the hunt. "How are things with the other ladies of the court?"
"I tried talking to Lysa." She furrowed her brows. "It was… difficult, to say the least. She's quite shy on the best of days, it's hard to find her outside of the Tower," she said continued. "Honestly, I still prefer her to Cersei. That woman was a mess, I tell you."
"I still wonder if it was best to send her back with Lord Jaime," I said, truthfully. "But the alternative was holding her hostage, and Tyrion seemed quite put out by the option anyway."
"Let her wallow in the Rock, then. You can't solve every problem, Robert."
I nodded. "I know. But still… it was in part because of her that the realm was weak," I said. "I find myself wondering if not marrying her was enough," I admitted.
"Well, there's little to be done for it now. Either they'll grow tired of each other and they'll end it of their own accord, or it will continue. If it comes to it and they're caught, we have Tyrion here to replace them," she said.
"A similar strategy to the Reach. Yet if we need to do it to both, will we not overplay our hand?"
"Then make sure it does not need to happen twice. Besides, I suspect the Reach would resolve itself in that event," she admitted.
"How do you mean?" I said, furrowing my brows.
"Lord Hightower gathers plenty of Reachmen around him. I imagine he's making ties for just such an event. He's a cunning man, after all." She explained.
"Hmm… it does explain some of his actions," I murmured. "Drawing close to me so in the event he takes the Reach I won't oppose him. But it could just as well be the Hightowers gathering influence here and in the Reach for some other plot."
"I would be wary. The last time the Hightowers had so much influence, well…" she said, shrugging. I nodded my head.
"I'll just have to be certain our houses' interests are aligned, then." I said, looking out over the gardens. We were nearing the end of our circuit. "The babe?"
"No issues thus far, Pycelle says. The morning sickness is not so bad as it was in the Tower," she admitted. "Though there was a certain petty satisfaction in staining my captor's boots." She said, smiling wanly.
"Yes, that most fearsome of weapons, the contents of a lady's stomach."
"Indeed," she said, before stopping us and looking up to me. "You'd best come back safe and whole for me," she said. "Else I'll ruin all your shoes."
"A terrifying threat," I said, nodding my head. "I won't even be at the fore of the fighting, I promise."
"Yes, well, you have a habit of ending up in trouble. Or need I remind you of the two times you nearly didn't come back to me safe and whole?" She asked, prodding my chest.
"Alright, alright, fair point. But I promise nothing shall happen. I'll only be coordinating the campaign this time around, and I'll have most of the Kingsguard with me," I explained.
"A few men isn't enough," she said, shaking her head. "Take some of your guards with you, too. I'll feel more comfortable here knowing any man who comes for you will end up more feathered than a fowl."
"Aye, I will," I said, chuckling at the mental image.
We separated once more, and I went to the yard to oversee my fosterlings' lessons. It was a fine day, and I etched it well in my mind, with war on the horizon.
A/N There's another chapter for you guys! Again, apologies for the delay, finals take precedence right now. I wanted to convey in this chapter that plenty was on Robert's plate while the months passed, and also to lay out the general plan for the Stepstones Campaign. I'm considering doing another point of view for the next chapter to give more perspective on the plots going on outside of Robert's awareness - let me know if there are any you'd particularly like to see. Thank you all for reading, and as ever, if you enjoyed it leave a review!