"Huh? What do you mean?" Robert asked with a taken aback look on his face, "You don't really think that Jon here would do something to harm the city, do you?" he continued with a displeased expression.
"Of course, not, Your grace. You misunderstand me. I have complete faith that as the bastard of Lord Eddard Stark, he is a good, honourable Man," he said with a small smile, with the emphasis on the word bastard being really subtle, but it achieved its purpose nonetheless, as it managed to remind everyone there of the fact that he was an untrustworthy bastard, regardless of anything else. "But it is just the things that I have heard. About how young Jon Snow here had spent most of his time in Essos during the past few years, and seeing all these unnecessary ships, I could not help but worry that in his youth and ignorance, he may bring his 'friends' out here to visit, and that would not be too good for the city, would it, your grace?" he paused as a worried look appeared on his face.
"After all, one can never be certain what those strange foreigners may be thinking in their heads, and what they may get up to after entering the city," he continued in a calm tone, as if he had no malice was simply concerned for the capital, "So I had only hoped to know that these ships were not filled with savage sellswords from across the Narrow seas,"
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Robert reluctantly nodded his head, "You make a good point there, Baelish," he said as he turned to Jon with a troubled frown on his face, "Tell us then, boy, why did you have to go to the trouble of bringing so many ships here? And know that I am not doubting you here, but Littlefinger is also right. After all, you could have just brought along two or three ships on this voyage for protection. So what could you be carrying that you needed so many of them?"
Jon stayed silent for a few moments, just quietly staring at the concerned look on Baelish's face, before he suddenly smiled, "It is quite strange to hear you be so averse to foreigners, Lord Baelish," he said in a measured tone, "Because, if I remember it correctly, was your grandfather also not a foreigner? A Braavosi sellsword, to be precise. So I would have assumed that you would consider yourself to be the perfect example of how high a person can rise here if he has the right skills."
Almost instantly, all the eyes present there turned to look at Littlefinger with realisation in their eyes, as most of them, including the King, had almost forgotten about this tidbit of information.
"Oh, now I remember, your family was granted the smallest of fingers in Vale by Jon's (Arryn) father, right? And that is why you were always called Littlefinger," Robert suddenly exclaimed as if a great mystery had been solved.
"Yes, your grace," Baelish replied with a nod, but try as he might, the man could not hide his stiff smile, nor could he stop his eye from twitching in irritation, showing that he was not as unbothered as he was potryaing himself to be, "My Great-grandfather, did come from Braavos, but that, I do not think is relevant here. Because if it were just a matter of a few dozen outsiders, then there would not have been any concern, as King's Landing handles a lot more than that daily with no trouble. But Jon Snow's fleet of ships here should be capable of holding more than a few hundred men, and an armed group like that can overwhelm even the Goldcloaks. And I imagine no one would want an unstable force such as that in the capital."
"Ah..." Robert and two of the Kingsguard slowly nodded with thoughtful looks as they imagined the scenario that Petyr had presented, unable to stop themselves from agreeing with him.
"And I am quite concerned about the reason why Jon Snow here keeps trying to distract us from his ships," Baelish said with cunning in his eyes that stayed well hidden under the veil of false worry, "I wonder what he has in the holds of his ships that would make him so averse to answering the question."
"Oh, no need to be so hostile, Lord Baelish, I was making a simple jest," Jon replied with a confused look on his face, as if genuienly taken aback by the sudden animosity, "But I see that you believe in your heart that my ships are problematic, but let me assure you wholly, that the only men currently on my ship are true Northerners who have been working for me as sailors from the very begining, and I do hope that you do not have a problem with Northerners, Lord Littlefinger, because that would be making things difficult for us two brothers,"
Petyr ignored the sarcasm in Jon's voice and continued, "But then, the question remains, what exactly are your ships filled with? Because I am sure that you did not bring what seems to be your fleet just to show your men around King's Landing, right?"
"I think that should have been obvious from the start," Jon answered with a puzzled tilt of his head, "I brought my ships here for the same reason that every other captain sails into Kingslanding for... to share my loot."
"Hm? What do you mean? What loot?" Robert interrupted with a frown on his face.
"The loot of Free cities, your grace." Jon explained with a patient smile on his face, "I have travelled through almost every city in Essos, and traded with all kinds of Merchants, bankers, Magisters, Old Nobles, and even pirates out there, and through that I have accumulated a lot of goods over the years. Goods that are scarcely available in Westeros, and even if they are present, they are usually sold at exorbitant prices that would make even a wealthy noble feel the pinch."
"But that would not be the case anymore, because I have gathered all those scarce resources and brought them to the capital in bulk," Jon smiled as he waved his hand towards his ships, "From the softest silks, and dyed velvets of Pentos, to holds upon holds filled with all the Volantene spices that one can find out there, from the rares perfumes, and scented oils, to the innumerable number of valuable handmade crafts from Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh," Jon finished with a proud look on his face, "I assure you, your grace, the things that I have brought on this day would be enough to satisfy every Noble, Merchant, and Maiden in your city for months, and months to come."
Jon's boastful speech had quite the shock effect on some of the men present there, especially the likes of Lord Manderly, Baelish, and the poor commoner guards, as their eyes widened in wonder and contemplation, and their minds began trying to conjure up and calculate how much all this wealth would be in terms of gold.
The rest, though, were much less moved, as the likes of Robb, Ser Barristan, and the King were either the kind of men who did not care much for gold dragons and material wealth or were the sort of people who had never had to pay for anything in their lives, and could get anything they wanted with a single command.
"Ah, but of course, I would not have forgotten about you, your grace," Jon suddenly said as he turned towards Robert with a mysterious look on his face, "Because the gifts that I have saved for you are the rarest of them all, the unique sort that no one else in the whole of Westeros other than you would possess,"
"Oh," Robert let out with a raised eyebrow as an interested gleam finally appeared in his eyes.
Usually, his reaction to any kind of gift or tribute that he was presented with, no matter how expensive, would be either dismissive or perfunctory, as there were few things in this world other than alcohol, women, and a good hunt that excited him anymore.
But when someone who has travelled as much as the boy claimed to have, things that are absolutely unique in the Seven Kingdoms, then Robert would be lying if he said he was not a little curious.
'After all, even if he was a bastard, the boy was still the son of Eddard Stark, the honourable Lord, so he would not boast too falsely, right?' Robert thought to himself, feeling anticipation rising in his mind.
Jon was satisfied with the curiosity he saw in their eyes as he turned around and waved his hand at his flagship, and the reaction to his gesture was almost instant as a large boat, with the carrying capacity of a small house, suddenly appeared from behind the massive Galleon and began approaching the coast.
And that was not the end, as only a few seconds later, another similar one appeared after it, and then another... and so on it went until there were almost seven identical boats heading towards them in a straight line.
The sailors must have been working all this time, while they were conversing, to silently lower the boats on the other side of the galleon, hiding them from their view until they received Jon's signal to have the sailors start rowing.
"Seven boats?" Robert asked with a strange look on his face, because after all, the boy was supposed to follow the Old Gods, and the number seven held no divine meaning there.
"Just for luck, your grace." Jon turned his head to casually reply, but in the next moment, his eyes widened in surprise as he looked past the king towards the city, only to find that the large gates had been opened at some point.
It would seem that Slynt had finally realised that there was no danger to speak of here, and probably, after seeing the King happily conversing with him, the captain of the ship, he must have decided to preemptively open the port before he was scolded again.
And as if they had been waiting for it, a large crowd of smallfolks labourers and merchants were already streaming into the harbour, running out and competing with each other to be the first one out.
The reason for this haste could not be clearer, as everyone knew that most people had been forced to leave their goods behind in their panic, and this being King's Landing, they knew that they would be fortunate to get even half of their things back if they were a second slower than the others.
But Jon's attention was not focused on them; instead, his eyes went past into the city, towards the very back, where two distinct parties of noble guards with very different coloured armours that were equally lavish, were escorting their Master, and were waiting for their turns to be the next to enter the port.
And seeing them, a smirk almost instinctively appeared on Jon's face, as he realised that the perfect stage for his introduction to the capital had finally been set.
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