In his room in Bear Islands, Jon opened his eyes with a deep breath as he adjusted to his own body after being in three bodies for that long for the first time. He had ordered Frost to fly back home which shouldn't take her too long considering her speed.
'That was a very interesting conversation,' Jon thought to himself with a small smile.
He hadn't intended to eavesdrop from the start but when the Maester immediately started running towards the Tyrells after he received the letter he was too curious to stop himself and followed after him. And while it felt somewhat wrong to listen in on someone's private conversation, he was glad he got to see what the Tyrells looked like and what their personalities were in real life and different it was from the books.
A sudden knock on the door interrupted Jon's thoughts. He stood up from his bed, shaking his legs which had fallen asleep from sitting cross-legged, and manoeuvred around his chest filled with luggage. One of his earliest crew members, who was not only the tallest but also one of the most fierce warriors on his ship.
"The ships are ready to take off. We're only waiting for you, Captain,"
"The ships are ready to set sail. We're only waiting for you, Captain," Harold informed him.
"Let's go then," Jon replied, leaving his luggage for Harold to handle. He made his way out of the Mormont castle and headed for the docks. The sight that greeted Jon at the port was truly mesmerizing.
Fifteen ships were docked and loaded, a number that likely set a record in the history of Bear Island. Although it wasn't apparent from the outside, most of the ships were filled to their maximum capacity with Stark horses and other Northern goods like furs and honey. These items could fetch a profitable price in the southern markets.
Jon spotted Maege standing on the port, her gaze fixed on the ships as they prepared to depart. He approached her and stood by her side, asking, "Done saying your farewells to Dacey?"
Maege grunted affirmatively, her eyes still fixed on the ships. After a moment, she spoke again, her tone contemplative. "Don't you think you're taking too many of them at once?"
"Well, it will be our first trip to the Reach," Jon shrugged. "I've heard tales of how everyone there, from farmers to blacksmiths, is prosperous. I don't want to fall short in meeting the demand later on."
"I see," Maege responded, her scepticism evident, as the ships took back their planks after every's ships crew had boarded them except for the biggest one which was Jon's ship.
"And I wanted to take some extra so that we can sell the leftovers at the Lannisport on the way back,"
"Huh..." Maege finally turned to him and asked with a raised eyebrow, "Didn't you say you wanted to limit the number of Starkhorses you sent there for a while because you wanted them to realise the quality difference or something like that,"
"Oh that," Jon said with a smile, "Well I think that they've learned about the quality of our quality so I think that it's finally time to ramp up the supply,"
The "quality difference" Jon referred to was one of the primary reasons he had been cautious about selling Stark horses in the Westerlands. In a world without patents, there was no way to prevent others from copying a successful product, which meant that as soon as something new was invented, imitators would try to capitalize on the profits.
So there are only a few ways that you can safeguard a lucrative product and maintain a competitive edge without getting taken over by copycats, one way would be to go the way of Myr.
The best glass and lenses, and telescopes called Myrish eyes, come from Myr, and lenscrafters from Myr are considered to be without equal in all the world. And one of the main reasons they've been able to do so is that the Masters there have been able to keep their recipes a secret so tight that even the mighty Bravoos with all the money at their disposal hadn't been able to find it.
Alternatively, one could adopt a strategy akin to that of Reach, where complete control over all the resources required for the product was maintained. The Reach excelled in producing exceptional wines, largely because they controlled the cultivation of grapes, the essential ingredient.
Jon had chosen the latter path. He had anticipated that people would eventually attempt to replicate his cycles, and he was proven right when, shortly after their introduction in Lannisport, he witnessed several nobles making futile attempts to recreate the product through Frost's eyes.
Knowing this from the beginning, Jon had devised a solution during the years he spent focusing on the creation and improvement of the product. The Stark horses produced in the North utilized a unique type of wheel crafted from a tree known as the offshoot of Ironwood, as well as bark from the Rubber tree. Since both of these resources were primarily found in the North, only they possessed the means to produce such wheels.
Jon patiently waited, and as expected, all those who attempted to manufacture their own Stark horses failed. Their products proved to be inferior—bulky, fragile, and difficult to ride. Thus, Jon could confidently introduce his products to the market, knowing that people would recognize the superiority of the Northern-made ones.
"What are you waiting for, Jon?" Dacey called out from the deck of his ship, waving her hand. "Let's go!"
"Coming!" Jon shouted back, waving in response. He turned to Maege, shaking her hand. "I'll see you in a few weeks or months."
"Yeah, don't get lost at sea," Maege grumbled, rejecting his handshake and opting for a hug instead.
"You know my 'secret.' I'll never get lost at sea," Jon replied with a wink, walking away with a smile.
Jon boarded his ship, and a few minutes later, all the vessels departed one after another from the port, embarking on their longest journey yet.
...
A few hours later just as the sun was about to set and Jon and Dacey were in the midst of discussing their schedule for the upcoming week, Jon suddenly stopped speaking mid-sentence and suddenly said, "It seems we have an unwanted guest abroad,"
"What!—Who?" Dacey asked while looking around vigilantly, they were on the front deck of the ship and all the crew was out there joking, playing games, drinking and passing their time before it got dark.
"Bryan," Jon called out to a nearby young boy, instead of answering Dacey. "Go to our storage room and stand in front of the second barrel to the right. Loudly announce that Jon is calling for you." The young crew member looked at Jon with confusion and bewilderment, as if Jon was speaking a foreign language. However, Jon simply said, "Just do it," without providing any further explanation, and the boy complied.
It wasn't long before he came back with a confused expression on his face and following behind him was a very reluctant Val who seemed to have stolen Dacey's leathers which were a bit big for her.
"That's all, Bryan. You can go now," Jon said, and the boy scurried away, eyeing Val in awe of her beauty. Val, in turn, gave him a fierce look, which promptly scared him off. Jon observed her for a moment before calmly asking, "What are you doing here?"
"How did you find me?" Val sullenly responded, evading his question.
"That's not the main point," Jon replied, while thinking about his favourite rat that was wandering around the ship at all times and was also an excellent scout and guard, "The main point is, what were you even hoping to accomplish by getting on board,"
"I thought I would jump aboard when we pass by the True North," She said gritting her teeth, while looking away angrily at getting caught.
"That's not how sea travel works," Jon explained, massaging his temples. "We are heading in the opposite direction, toward the South."
Val stared at him, mouth agape as if she hadn't considered that before. She closed her mouth and stubbornly retorted, "I don't care, you stole me first so I am going to stay here until you get me home,"
"I didn't steal you—and Stop laughing Dacey!" Jon scolded his best friend, who looked away but couldn't hide her shaking shoulders. Jon then turned his attention back to the problem in front of him,
"We can't turn back now, so you'll have to remain on the ship."
Almost instantly, Val's face lit up at the prospect of embarking on an adventure. However, Jon swiftly extinguished her fantasies. "But if you want to be on this ship, you'll need to work for it."
"What kind of work?" Val asked cautiously.
"Well, we'll start with the basics that all novices go through," Jon declared, an evil smile creeping onto his face.
"And what would that be?"
"Scrubbing the floors, of course."