arya’s defense of mycah and her confrontation with joffrey gets me every time. how that chapter features the casual dehumanization of the “common” people during the lead up to the event, attitudes that are so prevalent and socially-acceptable that they’ve already been ingrained into eleven-year-old sansa’s head:
Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken free riders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody.
This Mycah was the worst; a butcher’s boy, thirteen and wild, he slept in the meat wagon and smelled of the slaughtering block. Just the sight of him was enough to make Sansa feel sick, but Arya seemed to prefer his company to hers.
Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon . . . And Jon’s mother had been common, or so people whispered.
. . . and when they grew hungry, Joffrey found a holdfast by its smoke and told them to fetch food and wine for their prince and his lady.
and this all culminates in joffrey toying with/hurting mycah just because he’s bored and drunk and he can, while mycah is forced to stand there “trembling” because he’s expected to put up with every violent whim of a prince (even as sansa notes that joffrey’s “commanding tone [] took no notice of the fact that the other was a year his senior”).
contrast that with how arya puts her ENTIRE body into defending mycah, this skinny little girl mustering all of her strength to protect her friend with nothing but a stick against a steel sword. it’s a passionate act in defense of a fellow human being, an act that most of the other characters would only ever reserve for a fellow highborn:
Sansa slid off her mare, but she was too slow. Arya swung with both hands. There was a loud crack as the wood split against the back of the prince’s head, and then everything happened at once before Sansa’s horrified eyes.
She picked up Lion’s Tooth where it had fallen, and stood over him, holding the sword with both hands.
Arya whirled and heaved the sword into the air, putting her whole body into the throw. The blue steel flashed in the sun as the sword spun out over the river. It hit the water and vanished with a splash. Joffrey moaned. Arya ran off to her horse, Nymeria loping at her heels.
it’s also a nice little throwback to arya’s very first chapter when jon says, “I doubt you could even lift a longsword, little sister, never mind swing one” (AGOT, Arya I). now of course longtooth is lighter than a regular longsword because it’s “adroitly shrunken to suit a boy of twelve”, but arya is still a skinny nine-year-old girl who not only lifts but THROWS it into the river. plus the whole reason that arya is out there practicing swordplay with a partner in the first place is because of jon’s advice, and he would have been so proud to see that she CAN in fact lift a longsword…and that she does so in defense of her friend mycah.
and if anyone should defend mycah, it should be someone in arya’s position (though it’s absurd that this responsibility falls to a literal child). arya has a level of immunity from the consequences of her actions thanks to being highborn, which is strengthened even further given that ned is the second-most powerful man in the country (of course this doesn’t prevent lady’s death or nymeria’s exile, but arya herself is spared the consequences of raising a hand to the prince). if this highborn girl doesn’t defend a “common” boy from a prince, who else will? who else can? surely not the king or the kingsguard or a knight of the realm ?? are there no true knights among you ??
romaincrisis
kaledo-art
jacobvanloon
jbbartram-illu
gummygunk
