Jon 2

293AC

He watched from the throne room balcony as the ships departed from Kings Landing. Twenty-thousand men from the Stormlands, Westerlands, Reach and Crownlands borne on the decks of a hundred and eighty warships and another ninety bought out merchants. They would add another ten thousand from the Riverlands and the Vale, and then perhaps again that much in the North depending on what young Ned brought with him.

The Iron Islands were still largely shattered from their rebellion, and Jon had advised him not to call Dorne. They were still recovering from the great storm that hit them recently, and besides, they weren't trustworthy. He didn't want Robert struck by a poisoned arrow.

It was no levy army either. Perhaps a quarter of the host would be cavalry, landed and hedge knights from across Westerns who had answered the King's call. Especially after the High-Septon had announced his support for the war against the Red God.

It was heartening to have the support of the most devout in this effort, perhaps the Seven would smile on their efforts. Though for Robert he suspected it was mostly just an attempt to finally wipe out the Targaryen dynasty.

Still, as Lord Hand, it didn't really matter what Robert wanted, only that Jon could get it for him, and while assembling the army and fleet had taken no small amount of coin as Lord Baelish had noted, it was only a bit more expensive than his regular tournament schedule.

And wasn't that a distressing thought.

Thankfully, Braavos was also backing the war, and as a result, the Iron Bank was willing to give them a favorable interest rate for the funds, something that would likely save the crown thousands of Dragons in the long run.

Indeed, most of the free cities had aligned against Volantis, fearing that the election of a second Warlike Triarch for the first time in centuries would mark a return to the bloody century that had followed the fall of Valyria. At last the news, all powers were still marshaling their armies, and the war was thought likely to occur mostly in the Disputed Cities.

Robert would be landing at Pentos, which the Spider had arranged through his contacts there. Any Land Robert's army took had to be granted to the city when the war ended, but that was acceptable. Even Robert could see that holding territory in Essos would be impossible.

Still, despite his age, the one thing he had never been able to teach Robert was how to control, his damn impulsiveness. Hence why he wasn't looking forward to-

'Ah, and there she is.' The Queen stalked into the throne room looking disheveled and angry as if she had just thrown a tantrum, which, Jon supposed, she likely had. Her hair, normally perfectly straight, was frazzled, and her dress wasn't quite on properly. Her bother beside her didn't look much better, and Jon had to feel a bit of pity for the Kingslayer. The Kingsguard had likely felt the brunt of his Sister's anger upon the discovery of her son's abduction.

She turned and stared at him for a moment, and her eyes were full of venom as she did so, her mouth twisting into a sneer and looking as if she was about to speak, before thankfully she stopped, turning away from him in a huff and walking to the balcony, where the ships filling the Blackwater were now a good ways away from the city proper, though still visible.

From the way she clutched the railing, he half expected the queen to scream at the heavens, or perhaps throw herself off of it.

Thankfully her brother was there, dragging her into a hug, and comforting the distraught woman. Technically a breach of protocol, but one that Jon would let slide, technical regent that he now was. The Kingsguard ought not to lay his hands on the queen, or any royalty for that matter, but exceptions could be made for the situation, and they were family besides.

Hopefully, the Kingslayer could talk some sense into his sister before she did something drastic and stupid. He had enough on his plate as Hand already to have the Queen adding more to it.

'Then again, perhaps I should have a food taster added to my staff. Just for a few weeks.'

After all, he would need all the safety he could get. With Prince Joffrey gone the nearest living heir was Stannis son, Edric, who was all of two, and a deadly recipe for civil war should all of the army die? Jon would need to keep any such rumblings as low as he could manage.

Still, he had to remind himself that Robert and Ned were not children anymore, and if they knew anything better than him it was war.

For his surrogate sons though, he could not help but worry. 'Gods, I hope Robert knows what he's doing.'