Six months...
A period of time that could be considered long or it could be considered short... it all depends on who you are.
If you are an idle person, with nothing to do during the day, other than eat, sleep, and swat flies, then time will inevitably slow down for you, with every hour moving as slowly as a snail.
But for Jon Snow, every single day of his week, after coming back to Braavos, was a hectic one, with him being busy with various meetings involving things like negotiating prices, intimidating merchants, and contracting new workers, among other things.
Some of these, with the various nobles, merchants, and special craftsmen from Braavos, were done in person, while other meetings, with his various contacts from all over Westeros as well as in Essos, were held with the help of Frost.
And the reason that he suddenly got so busy was in the fateful letter he got from Sam... because of the order he had been given by the King of Westeros, he was now on a deadline.
Adding in the time it would take for him to complete his preplanned quest in Westerlands, and then travel from there to the capital, Jon did not have too much time on his hands, so sadly, he could not continue with his leisurely approach.
After taking a conservative estimate, Jon had decided to give himself a timeline of two months, in which he wanted to not only make his Shipping company self-sufficient, but also have his people be capable of making all kinds of big and small changes with just a single letter.
Thankfully, this mammoth task was made much easier because of the long list of competent subordinates Jon had under him.
With men such as Merchant Sam, Gared, Bran, his friend Sam, and most especially the recent addition Advisor (who was essentially a God sent with his decade-long experience as the right-hand man of the late Pirate King) at the helm of his shipping company, he did not have to worry about stretching himself thin.
So without wasting a single moment, Jon began taking a complete hands-off approach on the next trip of his shipping company after they arrived back at Braavos.
And like he had expected, his not joining the crew (at least not in person) brought quite a few hiccups for his fleet.
From a small brawl between some of the more unruly sellswords with a few of the new crew members from the North, to a dangerous incident involving their fleet getting lost for a few days midway through their journey, because the new wargs were not too familiar with the path.
So, safe to say, all sailors on his ships, who were used to his command, suffered quite a bit, but eventually they reached their destination and completed the trip.
And after that first time, it only got easier, and Jon, without hesitating, began to skip every other trip of his company to give his men more time to adapt to his absence.
But even with him not going on trips for the company, Jon's days only got busier as his shipping company had entered its most aggressive development phase.
From buying and renovating new ships to adding new crew members... There was never a moment when Jon was free.
Fortunately, he had been prepared for this for a long time; otherwise, he would have completely missed this golden time of development.
Now, new ships were being supplied regularly to his fleet from the Arsenal, the world-famous shipbuilding centre of Braavos, while he got the sailors needed for his crew directly from the North.
His previous investments in the various Orphanages in White Harbour, as well as all the time and money he spent to acquire the retired Veteran Ship captains nearby to teach in his schools in the North, had paid off. \
And now he never had to suffer a scarcity of skilled sailors and could add as many ships as he wanted to his fleet.
And even though none of these new recruits had been taught for more than a year, they were all more than qualified.
In fact, after just a few weeks of hands-on experience on the ships, they became almost as good as sailors who had been sailing the seas for years.
This just went to show that there was a reason that systematic training was so popular in his previous life.
And considering the absurd scarcity of direct trade between cities such as Braavos and Volantis, the demand was always going to be higher than supply, no matter how much Jon increased the size of his fleet... so there were no worries there.
In fact, after a few weeks had gone by smoothly, Jon even began considering dividing his fleet into two, so that his men could work in shifts, and his shipping company could have tickets available for people every single week.
But even when Jon was so busy with his company, he still managed to take some time out to focus on one more job...
A side quest, so to speak...
One that was worth even more than the main one...
A quest— to save a princess from the cruel claws of a dragon...
...
In one of the most opulent mansions in Pentos, there was a feast in progress.
The dining table was loaded with a spread so varied and sumptuous that it would not have looked lacking on a King's table.
Servants continuously walked to and fro from the kitchen bringing new courses every few minutes, but it never seemed to be enough.
The strange thing, though, was that the people eating this large quantity of food, which was enough to feed ten robust men, were just three... and one of them was a thirteen-year-old girl.
"How are you finding the food, your grace?" the massively fat man sitting at the head of the table asked while picking up a juicy piece of lamb with his meaty fingers and placing it in his mouth before licking off the grease greedily.
"Fine," Viserys answered, sending a look of disgust towards his host, that was not as discreet as he assumed, "But the meat could have been cooked a little more, and this soup—it is not as creamy as it should be..."
"Is that really so?" Illyrio said with an overly exaggerated expression on his face, "Then that is the height of impudence, your highness... and the cook should have his hands cut off for it,"
Viserys hesitated at that, as he had, in fact, liked the food quite a bit... and had only been nitpicking because he wanted to come across as kingly, as he had seen his father do many times.
But he had not expected the cheesemonger to suggest something so extreme...
Then again, his father never hesitated before establishing his authority over the people below him, so he should not either.
'And this was just a slave anyway... There were plenty of those around here,' Viserys thought as his eyes firmed up and he nodded, "Do that then. Maybe that will teach the next one to cook better,"
"Of course, your grace,"
"B-But... the food is not that bad," Daenerys spoke with a tentative look on her face, "And even if you must punish him, there is no need to take the man's hand... y-you can just give him more labour or have him work in the stables or something like that,"
"Ah, your graciousness and compassion for these poor souls know no bounds, princess," Illyrio said with such a great act of sincerity that it made the young girl look down in embarrassment, "I have been moved by your benevolence, and shall do as you say."
The Pentoshi Merchant's words left the princess pleased, but irritated the prince, whose fists clenched involuntarily at being slighted and overruled so easily.
"When are you going to get me an army, Illyrio?" Viserys abruptly asked, putting down the spoon in his hands, "It has been more than a month since we arrived at your mansion, and I have not seen a shadow of the army that you promised me."
"Ah, it is good that you asked me about that, your grace, because I have good news on that front," Illyrio replied without taking the slightest offence at being disrespected by his guest in his own home, "My men have managed to come in contact with three Khalasar whose Khal could potentially agree to work for us in the future,"
"Good, good," Viserys nodded with a satisfied look, "And... when can you buy them, and bring them here?"
"That would take quite a bit of time, your grace," Illyrio replied sadly, not bothering to correct the boy's misconception that no one could buy a Khal's loyalty, "You see, these three groups of khalasar have been hostile to each other for quite a while, and according to my sources, there is a very good chance of them waging war against each other in about two to three months... So all we need to do is wait for them to fight, and then offer the winning Khal our contract."
"Fine," Viserys said, sighing in disappointment at the long wait, "But are these savages' fighters really worth the wait? Are they really going to be good enough soldiers for us in Westeros?"
"They surely will be, your grace," Illyrio replied confidently, "Everyone knows the terror of a Dothraki horde, your grace. There is no Essos who dares to offend them, at least not lightly... because whoever does slight them, gets run over sooner or later with their manor reduced to rubble,"
"Hmm, that is good, then," Viserys replied with a pleased nod.
The rest of their meal passed in silence, and finally, after more than two hours had passed since they first sat there, their host put down his fork and knife with a satisfied look, signalling to the tired slaves that their master had eaten his fill, and that they could take a short break... before they had to begin preparing for the next meal.
///