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Chapter 39 - Work, Gifts and More Work
🕑 Added 2025-07-15 17:29:34 +0000 UTCAsgard
Robert knocked on the door of the room granted to Maester Olivar to check on his progress. There was no answer, so Robert went in without waiting and saw Olivar hunched over some books, completely absorbed in the texts.
He coughed gently to get the man’s attention, which didn’t work, so Robert snapped his finger in front of Olivar’s eyes, finally bringing the man to the world of the living.
“Maester Olivar, I hope the reason you are this focused on those books is because you found what I was seeking?”
“Ah, welcome, my lord.” Olivar greeted him, putting down the book he was reading after leaving a marker on the page. “I have found several references to Dragonstone, but they mainly focus on its properties rather than the sorcery needed to create it." He stopped to point at the book on the desk. "As I am one man, it is slow progress, but I’ll find what you are seeking, my lord.” Surrounded by the entirety, or at least the majority, of the knowledge that once belonged to Valyria was like a dream come true for Olivar, and he might have gotten distracted along the way, but he would see the task given to him completed.
Robert patted the maester on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work, Maester, though do be sure to get some light here; you are going to damage your eyes in this darkness.” He actually wanted to hire people to help Olivar, but it was impossible to trust anyone who knew Valyrian to not sell these secrets to someone else, so the maester would have to shoulder the work alone for now.
He had considered using dragonfire to melt rocks placed in iron molds to make durable houses, but that was just too much work without having a way to produce iron at a much faster rate.
—
The petitions were getting repetitive and boring. An envoy would come, congratulate him on defeating the demon, kiss his ass (figuratively, of course), give gifts, and leave.
Robert could barely listen after a while, though things had gotten interesting when the envoy from Volantis had arrived. They were eerily quiet after Robert sent their fleet to the bottom of the sea, and they were finally making their move.
A man of clear Valyrian descent with silver hair and purple eyes, dressed in rich gold and black, walked, and seeing as the tiger faction was known for conquest, it meant he most likely belonged to the elephant faction, the traders and money lenders.
He had considered bringing down their mighty walls as a retaliation, but he would wait for the envoy’s offer before committing to anything.
“What an unexpected guest we have. Tell me, what brings a Volantene envoy to Asgard, considering you tried to take Valyria from me, and I sent your fleet to the bottom of the sea?” The man next to the envoy winced at his words, meaning he understood Westerosi common and was the translator.
The interpreter translated Robert’s words, most likely with a more diplomatic touch. “I came for peace, Lord Robert.”
“Peace? I like peace, but not as much as I like war. Your offer better make peace more alluring.” He wasn’t going to play nice with these guys, not after everything.
And their offer showed Volantis was taking this matter seriously.
No fees or levies on ships and goods registered under the Asgard Trading Company with total access to their markets, large discounts on bulk purchases, recognition of Valyria as his land, and war reparations for their unprovoked attack.
The news of his dragons' new capabilities must have lit a fire under them.
Leaning back, Robert appeared as if considering the offer, though it was just for show, as it was too good to not accept.
Which meant they would try something, because Volantis was too proud to bend over like that.
Fun.
Robert accepted the terms and the reparations, which included a ship filled to the brim with silk, spices, and gold.
—
Following the massive wave of envoys they had, Robert ordered the construction of an auction house to sell a couple of Valyrian steel items. He didn’t need the extra gold since Valyria’s loot had reached forty million gold dragons, but it was an excellent way to get some of the richest people on both continents in the same place. After all, Valyrian steel items, besides their practical use, were also status symbols, and anyone with a significant amount of gold would come.
But it wouldn’t do if he didn’t fleece them.
For the next week, invitations were sent en masse, with ravens constantly flying out to the richest houses in Westeros. Since envoys from almost every single one of the Free Cities were at Asgard, letters had been sent with them.
His grandmother finally could rest, and after he had gifted her several valuable pieces of jewelry, along with a Valyrian steel armor for protection and a sword for aesthetic reasons, Rhaelle returned to Storm’s End along with the rest of his family.
He would soon follow them for Stannis’ wedding to Delena Florent, though for now he had work to do.
—
Retainers of House Florent had sent him a dozen mulberry trees that were dug out, placed in large enough pots, and shipped to Asgard. Seeing as it had been some time since he wanted those trees, Lord Alester Florent must have finally decided to do it after hearing Robert’s success in Valyria.
Politics.
He was heading to have lunch with Tyrion in tow when the shorter man asked something that was bothering him. “Do you truly like mulberries enough to have whole trees brought all the way from Brightwater, or is it something else?”
Robert hummed, considering how to answer the question. “Do you know what silk is made out of, Tyrion?”
“Silk plants?” He had no idea, as the only known source of silk was the Free Cities, and they weren’t in the habit of sharing the secrets of their trade items.
“No, silk moths, and guess what silk moths eat.”
Now it made sense why Robert wanted those trees. “Mulberry leaves.”
“Exactly.” Robert exclaimed, stopping to face Tyrion. “Imagine this: Asgardian silk sold to all corners of the Seven Kingdoms since it would be much cheaper, yet still expensive enough to make it a very lucrative business.” Without the long sea voyage, the price of Asgardian silk would be more than enough to compete with the Free Cities.
“How did you even figure out how silk is made?” If Robert claimed it was through his dreams, Tyrion would call it horse shit. It was one thing to see buried secrets that would move kingdoms and a whole other thing to see how silk was made.
“I only know it’s made from the cocoons of the silk moths, not the exact method, but since I am rich, I wager some trial and error should give us the solution.” It was nice being this rich, though unlike some 21st-century billionaires, Robert would use his wealth for the good of the common people.
“Well, we will have to keep it a secret then. I’ll have those trees moved somewhere indoors.” No need to give everyone a show of how silk was produced.
“I already ordered a new building where the trees would be taken care of, and the silk production would proceed without anyone being the wiser.” It was a greenhouse on a complex that would be a massive textile workshop, though if he could get a couple of engineers to build something to automate the process, that would be nice too.
“Now we just need moths. Any idea where to find them?” Since Robert seemed to
“Don’t worry, the trees had plenty of silk moth eggs on them. We’ll just let them hatch and grow, take the cocoons after the moths abandon them, and let them lay eggs again.”
“So we just need workers. I’ll find weavers and have them sworn into secrecy. If we pay them handsomely and keep a constant watch, there should be no leaks.” It was kept secret long enough by the Free Cities and Yi-Ti, so there was no reason why Asgard, especially with the threat of Robert Baratheon, could not do the same.
“Good thinking. I was also considering having orphan girls and widows taken and trained in our textile industry to keep them out of less desirable occupations.” Women in the Seven Kingdoms were dependent on their fathers and then their husbands once wed, so if they didn’t have either of them, there were two possibilities left for them.
“Like becoming whores?” The other option was to beg, and that mostly ended up with them dead on the streets.
Flea Bottom was a perfect example of that.
“Yes.”
“We are going to have a lot of work to do.”
Tyrion appreciated what Lord Robert was doing, in no small part knowing his wife would have faced the same fate at the hand of his own father, and he would do his utmost to support him.
—
Asgard had to expand because of all the migration. People down on their luck and wanting a new beginning, those hoping to strike it rich, and all other kinds of people made their way to Asgard. Robert wasn’t going to turn down potential citizens since Asgard needed more people, but housing and feeding them and finding work for all of them was challenging.
So Robert ordered a fresh new wave of construction, with houses, shops, and workshops ranging from carpenters and blacksmiths to windmills, bakeries, and more.
He was giving houses for free to people who had a valuable occupation first, and the rest later, with a modest housing tax. He could use one fortieth of his wealth to build modest houses for ten thousand families at the least, and with the taxes, more people would be housed.
In the twenty-first century Earth, there were hundreds of thousands of homeless people and those who could never afford to buy one. Robert would make sure it did not happen in his lands.
Governments of Earth could have spent the money they used for their dick-measuring contests to give people homes, but long live the free market.
Thinking about it pissed Robert off, so he redirected his focus on more important matters.
Food.
With the rate Asgard was growing, there was no way for Robert to grow enough food on his modest-sized land to feed the people in this age with its medieval technology, and he had no idea how to make modern fertilizer. It did include phosphate as a component, but Robert could never remember the other materials for the life of him.
So he was going to have to go with a more medieval solution.
Pigeon Towers.
—
Tyrion wasn’t sure he heard Robert correctly. “Pigeon Towers? For what purpose?” Just like with the mulberry trees, he didn’t think it was because Lord Robert had developed a sudden desire.
Robert put down his quill, stretching his arms. “Asgard is going to grow, and we are going to need more food each year. It just so happens pigeon droppings make excellent fertilizer.”
“And where did you learn that?” Robert had not answered his question about the silk moths, and Tyrion didn’t know if he would answer this one or not.
Robert shrugged, clasping his hands behind his head. “From some books claiming Old Ghis made use of pigeons like that.”
“Hmm. We could look into it.” In truth it was just to see what Robert would do. Tyrion was busy enough without having to research how Old Ghis raised crops.
“Why bother? There isn’t much left of Old Ghis to find, and it would be cheaper to see if it actually works. For now just build one near the fields and see how it goes.” Robert handed over the rough sketch he had drawn. Tyrion took the paper, wondering if it would even work, but then again, he didn’t know enough about farming to make a judgment.
In the meantime, Robert was going to get ready for his brother’s wedding, preparing his gift for the bride and the groom. He had already promised Stannis Valyrian armor, which just left Delena Florent, and for her, several rolls of expensive silk he had received as gifts would do.
Comments
IceAir
At this point he's gonna need to revamp his nascent government
orcun demir
Thank you for your encouraging words :)
Aeden Emrys
Thanks for the story so far! I'm looking forward to reading much more of this interesting story!
