Ned Stark POV.
"Rob, don't play with your food. Eat it. Vegetables are good for your health," Catelyn Stark scolded little Rob, who was playing with his meal rather than eating it. Like most children, he hated vegetables.
Cat is being Cat again a protective yet strict mother to our children. I hope Rob becomes as honorable as me, and Jon too grows up and be like his fa—well, never mind.
May the Old Gods be kind to my family and grant each of them a long and happy life.
"Rob, vegetables are good for your health. Plus, they will make you strong. Don't you want to be strong and powerful when you grow up?" I said, trying to convince him.
"You too, Jon. Start eating and finish your plate," I added calmly.
Catelyn had not accepted Jon yet. I hoped she would that she would grow motherly love for him in time. Lyanna… what had you done? I gave Lyanna my word to keep Jon safe.
If Robert ever found out, he would kill him that's what Lyanna believed.
But I disagree with her, I believe my friend. He was no child killer, not like Tywin Lannister. He wasn't hungry for blood. Still, I would never tell this to anyone. I couldn't gamble with Jon's life.
"My lord, Maester Luwin is here. He requests an audience with you," said the guard as he entered the room.
"At this time? What could be so important?" Catelyn asked, gently cleaning little Sansa's mouth. The girl had only recently learned to eat on her own, still very young, but already far more well-behaved than Rob and Jon.
"How would I know? I've been with you since morning," I replied.
I had promised to spend the day with the children, and we were together. In all my years of marriage, I had learned one thing: a wife is always right, and never argue with a woman.
It is a lost battle. Winning against an army of the dead would be easier than winning an argument with her.
"I don't know, my love. Let's see what Maester Luwin has for us," I said, careful not to sound clever and anger Catelyn again.
Soon Maester Luwin entered, his steps hurried, two letters in his hand.
"My lord, just now a rider arrived from King's Landing. The message is from Lord Arryn," Maester Luwin said, all in one breath.
"Lord Arryn? What could be so important?" Catelyn asked, concern in her eyes.
"Let's see," I said, opening the letter, already expecting bad news. To my surprise, as I read it, my worries eased. It was not bad news.
"What does Lord Arryn say, my love?" Catelyn asked.
"You need not worry. I'm not going to war or anything." I said with a smile.
As I began reading the letter things got interesting.
"His son, Artys Arryn, has won the archery contest at the tourney of King's Landing. There was a bet between him and Robert, which Artys won. The Vale is now exempt from all kinds of taxes for the next twelve years," I said, stunned.
"Twelve years!" Maester Luwin exclaimed.
I read the rest of the letter aloud, word for word. After that, everything made more sense though I must say Artys do seems to be blessed by the old and new gods such luck two Valyrian swords and all of the inheritance.
"Looks like much has changed in King's Landing," Catelyn said, her eyes still on the letter.
"That's what the south is full of politics. But worry not, we are in the North. We have other concerns. Southern politics are far from us," I said, trying to reassure her.
"Politics is never far away, Ned. The North is one of the Seven Kingdoms. When things change in the south, the North feels it too. The northern lords simply choose to ignore it," she replied. "I wonder what young Artys is doing alone in the Vale."
"He is not alone. Lord Royce is with him, along with the lords of the Vale. I know Lord Royce well, he is an honorable man. The Vale and the North share much in common. It is the one kingdom we truly understand," I said.
They had hill tribes; we had wildlings. They had steep mountains; we had endless cold.But above all, honor bound us.
"If you say so. I will take my leave now. Sansa is asleep. I will put her to bed. Make sure Rob goes to sleep as well," Catelyn said, lifting Sansa gently and leaving the room.
I looked at Robb, then at Jon. Both had finished their meals. Then I watched Catelyn leave.
I asked myself the same question I asked every day.
When would she accept Jon into our family? Maybe I should share Jon's true identity with her. Then she might start treating him better… or maybe not.
Oh Gods, please guide me.
POV ends.
Artys Arryn POV
"My lord, this is the shipwright area of our city. You will find some of the best shipwrights in the Seven Kingdoms here," Lord Grafton said.
The place was shit. By Westerosi standards it might be great, but for the scale of ships I wanted to build, it would take ten generations maybe more.
"How many ships do you build here in a year?" Soyron asked.
I was curious too. This shithole looked like it struggled to launch even a dozen.
"Two dozen in a good year," the old man beside Grafton answered. "We could double that with more men and timber."
"Who are you?" I asked. He'd been trailing us without uttering a single word.
"I'm the master shipwright here. The name's Jack," the old man said.
"I have spent thirty years of my life building ships. I worked for three years in Oldtown, then I went to Volantis with my master. There I spent seven years, but when my master passed away, I went to Braavos. I worked there for twenty years."
For God's sake, I only asked for his name and he gave me his bloody résumé.
Seven years in Volantis. Twenty in Braavos. Why come to Gulltown then? In Braavos, an experienced shipwright like him could earn far more than he ever would here.
"So, Old Jack," I said, "why would someone with your experience leave Braavos for Gulltown? In twenty years you should've built a life there. Don't tell me you missed your birthplace."
"The Vale is where I was born, my lord," Old Jack replied. "And where I'll die. When I heard House Grafton was hiring to build a fleet, I came home."
"Nah," Lord Grafton said with a smile, glancing at Jack. "Jack was the only one who came."
Fleet?
I'd never heard of House Grafton building a fleet. From what I remembered, the Vale never had a standing navy. Whatever ships they fielded in war were usually trade galleys hastily converted into warships.
I looked at Lord Grafton with suspicion.
"My lord, it's no secret," Grafton said, sensing my gaze. "I asked Ser Nestor Royce—acting High Steward in your father's absence—for permission to build a proper fleet. He may be consulting Lord Arryn. If approved, we begin. Master Jack has been training our shipwrights in better techniques."
That explained it.
Either Father hadn't approved it yet, or something had gone wrong. In the show era, the Vale didn't have a standing navy.
Even among the Vale lords, very few houses owned trade ships—forget war galleys.
"Your own fleet of two hundred ships is already impressive, my lord," Grafton added.
That made my eyebrows rise. Only a handful of people knew that. We hadn't made it public.
"Don't worry, my lord," Grafton continued. "One of the knights in your father's guard unit is from a minor house sworn to us. He wrote back."
What the hell? That's not how spying works.
You never reveal your sources unless you gain something from it.
Then it clicked.
Sacrifice a small fish a single knight to buy trust from the heir to the Eyrie. Or to nudge me into asking Father to approve his fleet.
That's why lords send men to their liege lord. First, it shows loyalty. Second, it builds influence. Third, they serve as eyes and ears.
No wonder Houses Royce and Corbray did the same by sending their second sons.
Sending second sons to serve a liege lord had many benefits and very little downside.
Since Aegon's Conquest, the great houses ruled their kingdoms. Bannermen swore to the Lord Paramount, not the Iron Throne directly. That was why the Crown was always short on men. Alliances were everything.
So when a minor lord wanted something major like building a castle or a fleet—he needed his liege lord's approval.
"Don't worry, Lord Grafton," I said. "Father will approve your request. You already know I inherited a merchant fleet. They'll need docks, repairs, and a home port."
I wasn't doing favors for free. Everything had a price.
"Of course, my lord," Grafton said smoothly. "That merchant fleet is of House Arryn, and House Arryn is our liege lord. There are no port or dock fees for Arryn ships, as usual. But if you personally request your father to approve my petition for a fleet, I would offer you some ships as a gift from what we build."
Ships weren't what I needed. Whatever he built would pale compared to what I intended. Westerosi shipbuilding was stuck in the middle centuries.
I planned to build ships from the Age of Sail.
I might even name one of them Black Pearl.
"Ships won't do," I said with a smile. "My fleet is already large. I plan to build my own—with my own shipwrights."
"Then what do you need, my lord?" Grafton asked.
"I saw empty land west of Gulltown on the way in," I said. "I want to build my own shipyard there. House Arryn covers all costs construction, maintenance, everything. In return, thirty thousand gold dragons for the land."
"No problem, my lord," Grafton said, visibly relieved. "We don't use that land. It's mostly empty. If you want to build there, it's yours. You don't need to pay me anything for it."
"How many ships do you intend to build?" I asked. Let's see how ambitious House Grafton really was.
"Three hundred total. One hundred for long trade routes, the rest for short hauls Gulltown to Pentos. Plus seventy warships, kept ready year-round. The sea will be safe under House Arryn's name," Grafton said proudly.
Ambitious. And expensive. House Grafton was rich but not that rich.
"Impressive," I said. "And how do you intend to pay for all this?"
"Originally, I planned to build only half," Grafton admitted. "That was all House Grafton could afford over ten years. But thanks to the tax relief we'll receive because of you, we can build more."
Thank the gods, no debt. I'd half-expected him to mention the Iron Bank.
"Master Jack," I said, turning to the old man, "you worked in Braavos for twenty years. Who did you serve there?"
Please, gods. Not them.
"I worked for the Iron Bank, my lord," Jack said casually. "I personally supervised the construction of the ship built for the Sea Lord of Braavos."
Ah. Fuck me.
That explained everything.
No wonder House Grafton never had a fleet. Even if Father approved this, he'd be furious knowing Grafton hired someone so close to the Iron Bank.
Braavos would never let a man with that much shipbuilding knowledge simply walk away.
Still, as long as it wasn't the Faceless Men, I could keep him safe. And with what he knew, it would be a crime not to learn from him.
"Lord Grafton," I said as we walked toward the exit, "there are other matters I wish to discuss."
Time to lay the foundation for my merchant empire.
I would need to send a distress signal to the birds.
This old man was too valuable. By now, the assassins might have already left Braavos or worse, they could already be in Gulltown.
Placing two or three men around him for security would have to suffice for now, at least until the birds arrive.
POV ends