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[mryoyo000]

ASOIAF Characters as The Adventures of the Bailey School Kids Books

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[goodqueenaly]

Hello again and I hope you’re having a great week! Thanks again for all your answers. This is again a weirdly very specific question but I was wondering if you had any thoughts: since it’s not unusual for nobles in Westeros to be described as their sigils, do you think the Gracefords or Pipers would have any issues to the extent that their sigils seem to be gods of the Seven? (I apologize I may be mistaken, I assumed the Piper sigil is supposed to be specifically the Maiden of the Seven but I’m not sure if that was specified) I was thinking on the one hand there’s the possible issue that unlike calling yourself a direwolf, lion etc. it might be different if your sigil is a deity. (This is my own guessing as well but I also wonder if there’s a gendered component to it, in the sense that, due to Westerosi misogyny, a lord might not object to being described as a masculine-appearing sigil (e.g. huntsman or something) but not the same for a feminine-appearing sigil. I apologize if I’m not phrasing this well!) I’d be curious to know if you have any ideas!

I’m reminded of this exchange between Lew Piper and Daven Lannister:

“Ser Daven shrugged out of his cloak and tossed it at Little Lew. “You a Piper, boy?” he growled. “You have a runty look to you.” “I’m Lewys Piper, if it please my lord.” “I beat your brother bloody in a mělée once. The runty little fool took offense when I asked him if that was his sister dancing naked on his shield.” “She’s the sigil of our House. We don’t have a sister.” “More’s the pity. Your sigil has nice teats. What sort of man hides behind a naked woman, though? Every time I thumped your brother’s shield, I felt unchivalrous.”

While the Pipers may not be embarrassed about their family sigil (certainly not Lew, anyway), the image of a naked dancing woman has provided easy fodder for mockery for the likes of Daven Lannister, among probably any number of others in Westerosi history. In turn, I think there may be some level of reluctance. To be sure, I don’t think this would be necessarily or exclusively a religious concern: there is no mention, after all, that the Piper maiden is the Maiden, and given the examples of real-world naked women (and people generally) used in heraldry, the Piper maiden could simply be a standalone device. Nevertheless, the general misogyny of Westeros, heightened in the highly masculine performance of chivalry, may dissuade knights from adopting or embracing such a designation: all well and good to bear a woman on one’s shield, but Seven forbid a knight actually be called a woman or accused of hiding behind a woman. 

However, it is also worth pointing out that religious sentiment and knightly nicknames are not mutually exclusive, especially for particularly pious individuals - think, of, say, Damon “the Devout” Morrigen, or Bonifer “the Good” Hasty. Therefore, some especially zealous son of House Graceford may have embraced the family sigil as a way of highlighting his own devotion to the Seven. (Yet another reminder that I wish we knew quite literally anything about House Graceford.)

Too, when it comes to knightly epithets, not every sigil lends itself to eponymous inspiration, nor would every knight be associated with the virtues (or vices) of that particular device. Oberyn Martell was “the Red Viper” not because of the presence of snakes on the Martell sigil but because of the prince’s familiarity with both vipers and poison; Lucas Inchfield was “the Longinch” not because the name had any connection to House Inchfield’s chequy bend sinister but because the name punned Lucas’ great height with the diminutive “inch”; Lyonel Baratheon was “the Laughing Storm” thanks to his habitual booms of laughter during tourneys and various ancestral associates between Baratheons and storms, not because laughter or storms form part of the Baratheon sigil. While some sigils may (or may not) lend themselves to these sorts of designations, ultimately circumstances and personality may matter just as much to the way in which a knight is known. 

[mryoyo000]

Thank you so much! This is all really interesting to consider.

I also wish we had more information about the Gracefords. I think the world book described them as originally among the Andal adventurers who settled into the Reach. I always wondered if they were missionaries of the Faith as well considering their name, sigil and house words.

[goodqueenaly]

Hello again! Sorry I’m trying to figure out how to make this a question, but if you’re willing to, I’d love to hear any thoughts you have about Myranda Royce? I feel like she’s interesting as a counterpoint to the general depiction of the Vale nobility—it struck me that her open association with “Alayne Stone” could be considered unusual by her contemporaries. Do you think it’s genuine, or being gracious (or both)? Thanks and I hope you are well!

I think Myranda is quite an interesting character! (Long, more under the cut)

On the one hand, Myranda certainly wants to encourage Sansa-as-Alayne to see her as a friend. Throughout their conversation, Myranda asks, indeed demands that Sansa-as-Alayne refer to her as “Randa”, an informal nickname which bridges the class distinction between them (more on that in a bit). Myranda’s genial, self-identified “wicked” gossip, punctuated with laughs and jokes, directly recalls Sansa’s last true experience of female friendship, way back in AGOT - sharing a strawberry pie with Jeyne Poole, “giggling and gossiping and sharing secrets”. Too, as they near the Gates of the Moon, Myranda tells Sansa-as-Alayne of the apartments readied for her but offers to share her own bed with Sansa-as-Alayne, much in the manner of Margaery’s bedsharing with her close-knit cousins. Nor is this proffered friendship an entirely empty hope on the part of Myranda. By TWOW, Sansa is internally referring to Myranda as “her friend”, and when Myranda cheerfully dares Sansa to race the gatehouse by declaring “[l]ast one to the gate must marry Uther Shett”, Sansa laughs and joyfully thinks that “[f]or just a little while … [Sansa] found herself remembering bright cold days at Winterfell, when she would race through Winterfell with her friend Jeyne Poole, with Arya running after them trying to keep up”. Myranda does provide Sansa-as-Alayne, at least eventually, some access to friendship and fun Sansa has not experienced in a very long, very traumatic time; finally, after months turning to years of loneliness, abuse, and fear, Sansa has a young aristocratic woman of an age with her, with whom she can be happy - in fact, feeling “alive again, for the first since her father… [sic] since Lord Eddard Stark had died”.

Yet Sansa cannot embrace Myranda Royce as her friend without complication, given the context in which she is introduced to Myranda. Before Sansa and Myranda Royce ever meet, Littlefinger warns Sansa that she, Sansa, must “be careful” and “[g]uard [her] tongue around [Myranda]”, because while Myranda “likes to play the merry fool … underneath she’s shrewder than her father”. That Sansa takes this warning to heart is reflected in Sansa-as-Alayne’s greeting to Myranda, allowing Myranda to call her “Alayne” but internally adding “you’ll get no secrets from me”.  Indeed, Myranda’s frank conversation, complete with blunt questions, seems to parallel Olenna Tyrell’s similarly staged interview of Sansa at the start of ASOS; just as the shrewd Queen of Thorns weaponized an attitude of uncourtly candor to make Sansa comfortable enough to admit to Joffrey’s monstrousness, so Myranda seems to want to draw information out of Sansa-as-Alayne, particularly to her true identity, by peppering their chat with candid sexual references and choice bits of gossip. To that end, Myranda does appear to succeed: when Myranda seemingly offhand mentions that “the Night’s Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark’s”, Sansa-as-Alayne blurts the name “Jon Snow” - an improbable bit of identification for supposedly the bastard daughter of a minor Vale lord, allegedly living in Gulltown with the Faith until relatively recently. (Whether Myranda then later remarks on Sansa-as-Alayne’s “rosy cheeks and big blue eyes” to make a coy reference to the true Sansa’s Tully appearance, or later still tells Sansa-as-Alayne that “[t]he first Lady Waynwood must have been a mare” as a sly allusion to the Waynwood marriage Catelyn says was made by one of Jocelyn Stark’s Royce daughters, are both open, intriguing possibilities.) In the ongoing theme of truth versus lies so central to Sansa’s storyline, Myranda’s search for knowledge is used by Littlefinger to portray her as an antagonist; falsehood and secrecy, literally defining Sansa for the moment in the guise of “Alayne Stone” must perforce divide Sansa from her would-be friend, at least according to Littlefinger. 

Yet Myranda does not simply represent the duality of friendship and animosity for Sansa-as-Alayne. For all her risqué jokes and targeted requests for information, there is I think a good heart to Myranda, most clearly demonstrated in her treatment of Robert Arryn. Before we even meet Myranda on page, Sansa mentally notes that “Robert [would] be pleased” at the news of Myranda’s coming, because “[h]e liked Myranda”, implying not only that Robert has met her before but that Myranda made a good impression in her prior visit(s). While it’s certainly good political sense for any Vale aristocrat to treat the Lord of the Eyrie with respect, Myranda shows Robert genuine warmth and kindness: kneeling to meet him at his level, grandly lying that he had “grown so big” and would “be taller than me soon”, and joining Sansa-as-Alayne in allaying Robert’s fears by agreeing that the Winged Knight could indeed fly “[h]igher than the mountains” - all important actions to take toward a young boy infantalized and dismissed as sickly for virtually his entire eight years of life. Like Sansa, who plays to Robert’s favorite stories of chivalric heroism to encourage his bravery, Myranda offers Robert a rare opportunity for pride in himself in this trek down the mountain. Indeed, Myranda acts exactly as Sansa believes Mya Stone should have - “greet[ing] him with a smile” and “[telling] him how strong and brave he looks” - a positive reflection on both Myranda’s relationship with Robert and her perceptive sense of manners. 

Related to this point, Myranda seems to have a keen and natural grasp of her position; this is a young woman who understands how to be lady of a castle to her fingertips. The little Sansa initially knows of Myranda Royce includes the fact that Myranda “kept her father's castle for him”, and that “it was a much livelier court when she was home than when she was away”. Myranda’s courtly experience is on full display in Sansa’s TWOW sample chapter. When the Waynwood party arrives to the Gates of the Moon, Myranda curtsies to Lady Anya, politely ignores Wallace Waynwood’s stammer, adds some sweetly witty commentary on the upcoming feast and tourney, and informs the Waynwoods of their and their party’s lodging with both grace and tact. Too, while she might continue to provide her cutting opinions privately to Sansa-as-Alayne, Myranda also seems to know where to express herself more subtly: calling to Sansa-as-Alayne for a less rude escape from her Lipps and Shett admirers, and quietly teasing Lyn Corbray (whom Myranda already identified as an unlikely suitor) by piously wishing for a healthy delivery for that Corbray sister-in-law whose pregnancy Lyn resents so much. 

Which, of course, only highlights the (relative) societal knife edge on which Myranda exists. As the daughter of the head of the lesser branch of her family, Myranda already occupies a place lower than that of other Vale blue-bloods - recall Littlefinger’s note to Sansa that Myranda’s father was in part quite willing to believe Littlefinger precisely because he, Nestor, was “very much aware that he was born of the lesser branch of House Royce”. As “a widow, but scarce used”, to borrow her rueful turn of phrase, Myranda has neither the maidenhood so prized by aristocratic Westerosi nor the dynastic investment of a child with her late husband - and by extension, a socially acceptable role(s) as wife and/or mother. Myranda is, in the cold and unfair calculus of Westerosi aristocratic marriage making, a lesser prize - a fact Myranda herself appears to recognize all too well. As she sighs to Sansa-as-Alayne, Myranda cannot determine “whether it was me she [i.e. Anya Waynwood] found unsuitable [for Harry Hardyng], or just my dowry”; too, as Sansa herself picks up, behind Myranda’s japes of Sansa-as-Alayne’s apparent success in being betrothed to Harry, there is the hurt of a young woman brusquely reminded that she was, at least in the estimation of Lady Waynwood, not good enough for such a match. In the zero sum game of Westerosi matchmaking, Sansa-as-Alayne cannot win (again, only in the  sense of a betrothal to a politically very important fiancé) without Myranda losing out on that exact match. 

This tension, in turn, I think as much defines Myranda’s relationship with Sansa as the duality of Myranda as both (potential) friend and foe does for Sansa’s relationship with her.  Myranda has the name and familial credentials, but not the dowry to make good on them or the aristocratic marriage to show for them; Sansa-as-Alayne is (ostensibly) an unlegitimized bastard of a rather upjumped lord, yet she has the great dowry and (as of the start of TWOW) the brilliant future marriage to the heir presumptive of House Arryn. Consequently, when Myranda first meets Sansa-as-Alayne, it is Myranda who condescends (in the most fundamental meaning of the word) to her: “I am 'my lady' at the Gates”, Myranda reminds Sansa-as-Alayne, “but up here on the mountain you may call me Randa”, a quiet reminder that it is Myranda who can waive the privilege of formal address because she herself is automatically entitled to such a style. It is Myranda who sniffs at the “common girl”, not even dignified with a first name, with whom Harry fathered a child; Myranda who thinly veils the bitterness in her observation that “Harry could have done much worse” than marry her, even if she was, as she reflects, widowed and no longer a maiden; and Myranda who declares that she “shan’t concern [herself]” with Sansa-as-Alayne’s “bastard breasts” when comparing their physical appearances. Likewise, it is Myranda who scathingly asks whether Sansa-as-Alayne “ever knew] a Sisterman who could joust”, as according to Myranda “[t]hey clean their swords with codfish oil and wash in tubs of cold seawater” - proper performance of chivalry being so often equated in Westerosi society with aristocratic bearing. These two young women occupy similar, yet opposed, liminal spaces in their society (as I talked about before specifically with Sansa), operating in an aristocratic sphere that at the same time embraces and rejects them, but for very different reasons. 

What I could certainly see is that when (not if) Sansa-as-Alayne is in fact revealed as Sansa Stark in TWOW (ahem, Shadrich), Myranda helps verify Sansa’s true identity (having, again, perhaps puzzled out as much from observing her). More importantly, I hope that Myranda is not in fact an antagonist to Sansa out of some petty sense of jealousy (I had plenty of negative female relationships in F&B, thank you very much), but rather helps undermine Littlefinger’s governing thesis presence in Sansa’s life (before the final denouncement of Littlefinger by Sansa at Winterfell, anyway). For Littlefinger, who values and employs lies and deception as a fundamental aspect of his character, a figure who seeks out truthful information is indeed a disturbing, dangerous individual. Moreover, as a confident and (again, relatively) independently secure aristocratic young woman in her own right, Myranda Royce almost certainly represents to Littlefinger a threat to his isolation of and control over Sansa; just as Cersei separated Sansa from Jeyne Poole in the immediate aftermath of the purge of the Stark household to keep Sansa alone and friendless (remaking with annoyance that “[t]he gods only know what sort of tales she's been filling Sansa's head with” - that is, true stories of the violence and bloodshed of the purge), so I think Littlefinger fears the appearance of a potential friend to Sansa, unconnected to himself, who could begin to influence and encourage her in ways he would not be able to oversee. In perhaps identifying Sansa as a Stark, but then supporting her, Myranda may appear to Sansa as a deliberate rejection of Littlefinger’s description of her as a truth-seeking villain - and, in turn, begin the downfall of Littlefinger himself. 

[mryoyo000]

WHY SELYSE FLORENT SHOULD BE QUEEN OF WESTEROS WITH TEXTUAL PROOF

It is once again time to recline and ponder the many gifts of Queen Selyse Florent. Over the course of five books, what other character has had such an illustrious career so full of achievement or lived a life so dazzling and rewarding? As the fiscal year draws to a close we can see that so much of Westeros owes thanks to Selyse and House Florent for keeping it real and being classy and lots of other stuff. You may think the Tyrells are smart and competent but that’s just fraudulent fraud from Highgarden.

I want to post of a few key passages that best demonstrate why Selyse Florent, mother of foxes, is so well-suited to the title of Queen.

1.

”Yes,” Lady Selyse agreed. “Patches’s helm. It suits you well, old man. Put it on again, I command you.” And I will serve you to the last, my sweet queen, Cressen thought, for suddenly he saw the way. “Thank you, Your Grace,” he intoned, bowing low. “I never realized until now how much I needed your discerning and fashionable eye. This helm enhances my style very much and I never would have had the confidence to express myself without you.”

2.

”Joffrey shall die,” Queen Selyse declared, serene in her confidence. Davis saw that her confidence was well-earned, with her regal poise and her flawless hair. He suddenly felt ashamed for being such a hater and decided that from now on, he would obey her without question.

3.

Queen Selyse pursed her lips. “Lord Snow, as Lady Val is a stranger to our ways, please send her to me, that I might instruct her in the duties of a noble lady toward her lord husband.” That will go splendidly, I know. Jon knew that Val looked up to Queen Selyse and was always hoping to have her be a mentor figure. “As you wish,” he said, “though if I might speak freely—” “No, I think not. Now you may sashay away.” Jon Snow bent his knee, bowed his head, withdrew. He knew that Selyse shouldn’t be disturbed because she was about to go give away free cars to a bunch of her fans.

[goodqueenaly]

What happens to Hosters calculations for marriages if Edmure is never born, leaving her as her fathers heir? Similarly, what might the rule of lady Catelyn of Riverrun be like?

(I also had a few anon asks along the same lines back in the archive as well)

I’m gonna be honest - I tend to think that if Minisa Whent died without giving birth to a surviving son, Hoster Tully would have remarried in an attempt to have a male heir. Hoster certainly had not settled on leaving Catelyn as his senior heir after her two elder brothers died as babies, nor did Hoster stop trying to father a “spare” for the Tully dynasty after baby Edmure’s birth (which Catelyn in fact cites as the direct cause of her mother’s death). Likewise, Hoster’s traditionalist (by non-Dornish Westerosi standards), patriarchal focus on male successors is I believe reflected in his pride in the openly Tully features of Catelyn’s son Robb as well as his promise to Lysa, following her forced abortion, that she should "be a good wife and the gods will bless [her]" with "sons ... [sic] trueborn sons". Fond as I definitely believe Hoster was toward Catelyn, I don’t believe Hoster would have simply shrugged and said "I don't need a son, I'll let my daughter inherit"; if Hoster had been content to treat Catelyn as his heir presumptive for a handful of years before Edmure's birth, he was equally if not more eager to shift her thereafter into more traditionally feminine (again, certainly by Westerosi standards) roles, as de facto Lady (consort) of Riverrun and then as the dynastic bride to a suitably politically advantageous husband.

Which is not to say that Catelyn could not have been a very competent Lady (regnant) of Riverrun, ruling in her own right. Catelyn, as @turtle-paced has admirably and thoroughly demonstrated, was quite smart indeed, and I trust Brynden’s assessment of his niece that she was, as Catelyn argued, the sort of woman who could “rule as wisely as a man”.

[sare11aa11eras]

Melisandre and Selyse at the night fires

(Image Description in ALT text)

[turtle-paced]

Revisiting Chapters: Catelyn VI, ASoS

Bit of a horror movie, this chapter.

The story so far…

Amidst terrible weather and even worse fortune, the Starks are now arriving at the Twins for Edmure’s wedding.

A Bunch of Assholes

The chapter starts with the approach to the Twins, accompanied by the growling of the flooded Green Fork. It’s a beefed up version of the very natural conditions that led to Robb asking for Frey support back in AGoT. It’s a watery, miserable scene - towers appearing from the mist like ghosts in wet stone, banners on the opposite bank hanging like dead cats, and everything in general grey and sodden.

This is a happy place, where happy things will happen.

Robb starts thinking about appearances a little ways out, putting on his crown and making sure his mother and uncle are riding next to him. Catelyn, for her part, has some last minute advice. First, Walder Frey’s an asshole. Second:

“If we are offered refreshment when we arrive, on no account refuse. Take what is offered, and eat and drink where all can see. If nothing is offered, ask for bread and cheese and a cup of wine.”

This is advice based on the fact that there are many ways Walder Frey might be an asshole. If refreshment is offered, because Walder Frey might not extend guest right to his guests. On no account refuse, because Walder Frey might extend guest right by serving stewed crow smothered in maggots (as Robb suggests he might). Bread and cheese and a cup of wine so that Robb doesn’t give excuse for further insult either by asking for the bare minimum (thereby highlighting the fact Walder Frey hadn’t offered the bare minimum) or by asking for something lavish and difficult to obtain.

But mostly Catelyn’s concerned that a) Robb obtains guest right, and b) Robb is known to have obtained guest right. Which says a lot about what she suspects the Freys may be capable of. She thinks that the strongest customary protection against violence may be needed.

The Tully siblings then get their own cattier tendencies on when a Frey contingent comes out to greet them. There’s Ser Ryman, heir to the Twins, whose face Catelyn’s internal monologue describes as “fleshy, broad, and stupid.” Edmure doesn’t keep it to internal monologue but does keep it sotto voce when he describes Edwyn Frey as having a “constipated look” and wishing that Roslin Frey does not take after Petyr Frey with the “unfortunate,” acne-stricken face. Calling Black Walder a nasty bit of business though, that can stand.

Catty or not, the Freys quickly prove themselves to be…not the most pleasant bunch. After Grey Wind startles Petyr Frey’s horse, Robb dismounts and offers his own. Not only is this gesture barely even acknowledged, Ryman Frey proves to have zero courtesies and calls Jeyne Westerling “the woman.” Edwyn’s got more manners, described as “careful courtesy.”

Better question is, why is this party being headed by Ser Ryman? While Catelyn openly gives Walder Frey the benefit of the doubt, since fair enough the nonagenarian doesn’t want to go riding in the rain, in her internal monologue she suspects it’s an insult.

There are more diplomatic overtures, as Edwyn Frey arranges for Robb’s armies to be seen to the far side of the river, where they’ll all have access to a drink on House Frey to the health of the married couple. Lame Lothar cheerfully sees Grey Wind to a dry kennel and a leg of mutton. This is another kind of assholishness, one that goes beyond the bounds of the words. The Freys here know what the plan is. They know that the plan is to lull the people they’re talking to into a false sense of security before murdering the vast majority of them.

But then there’s the main event, Walder Frey himself, and GRRM gives us a refresher on his appearance in a way that leaves no doubt he’s the chief asshole before he even says a word:

His chair was black oak, its back carved into the semblance of two stout towers joined by an arched bridge, so massive that its embrace turned the old man into a grotesque child. There was something of the vulture about Lord Walder, and rather more of the weasel.

Also noted is Walder’s mouth, which “moved constantly, sucking at empty air as a babe sucks at his mother’s breast.” So while Walder’s an old man, he’s compared to child (because that’s the level of emotional maturity going on here), vulture (he’s an opportunist), and weasel (he’s sneaky).

Additionally, Walder’s brought out his grandson-slash-fool, who’s wearing a fake crown. Catelyn can’t be completely sure, but she thinks giving this particularly unfortunate grandson (Aegon “Jinglebell” Frey) the crown is meant to be an insult. It’s just dubious enough a jab that complaining about it would be met with something along the lines of “what are you talking about - you’re so sensitive, god.” Walder soon follows that up by saying Jinglebell has “less wits than a crannogman” and that talking to him is about the same as talking to a chamberpot. Pretty much the entire Frey family is here to listen to that description. Then he starts in on describing Roslin. He wants to know where Jeyne is. He was very keen to see her!

What might have been a suspicious interest in the whereabouts of Jeyne Westerling at this totally not an ambush is quickly covered by, you guessed it, more assholery. Walder Frey waves a hand and all his eligible daughters and granddaughters hurry forward to be paraded in front of the King in the North.

And how does the author emphasise that Robb really might have legitimately preferred to marry someone he was attracted to? By having their gradfather expound on their physical flaws.

“It would have been an impossible choice, my lord,” Robb said, with careful courtesy. “They’re all too lovely.” Lord Walder snorted. “And they say my eyes are bad.”

Delightful. Absolutely delightful. But Robb gives his apology as he knew he must. Roslin is brought out, and the topic changes to Edmure’s impending nuptials.

Politics as usual

After that reception, Catelyn and Edmure retreat for a post-mortem. Despite all the times I used the word ‘asshole’ above, both of them are like ‘wow, that was not as bad as I thought it would be’. Says volumes. Edmure’s got his own comments on the parade of Frey ladies and notes he expected that he’d be given an ugly bride. Catelyn, meanwhile, thinks Roslin is pretty and seems nice enough, but she’s seriously alarmed at how small she is and how difficult that might make childbirth. Back to the relative attractiveness though:

“Your fondness for a pretty face is well known,” Catelyn reminded [Edmure]. “Perhaps Lord Walder actually wants you to be happy with your bride.” Or more like, he did not want you balking over a boil and upsetting all his plans. “Or it may be that Roslin is the old man’s favourite. The Lord of Riverrun is a much better match than most of his daughters can hope for.”

Everything with Roslin just goes to show how commodified the marriage market is in Westeros. The physique of these young ladies is political. Edmure’s sexual preferences are political. And these poor girls were ordered up in front of complete strangers for at least one of them (Catelyn) to look at them all and evaluate them as breeding stock. Indeed, Catelyn ends up going to ask the castle’s maester about Roslin’s potential fertility, and the man tells her.

After this particular conversation, Catelyn goes to find Robb, who’s mid-meeting. Catelyn was not invited. But when she asks, she does get answers. Wylis Manderly has been recaptured by the Lannisters; Roose Bolton’s brought news that Cley Cerwyn and Leobald Tallhart were killed at Winterfell, with several survivors taken to the Dreadfort by Ramsay. Catelyn has problems with this.

“Your bastard was accused of grievous crimes,” Catelyn reminded him sharply. “Of murder, rape, and worse.”

Roose’s response? Sure. But he led the battle (ahem), and Robb can judge from there whether that makes up for it. Not like Roose will be out an heir, since he has Lady Walda.

This is a cold man, Catelyn realised, not for the first time.

Catelyn does not know how cold yet.

Robb then asks for news of Theon. Roose gives him the skin from Theon’s little finger, flayed off by Ramsay. We haven’t had solid reports of Theon since the end of ACoK, and the mention here is intended to inform the reader he’s still around, just busy being tortured.

Roose offers Catelyn the skin, and she makes herself refuse it, though part of her “wanted to clutch the grisly trophy to her heart.” Lady Stoneheart does not come out of nowhere, but is the unhappiest extreme of Catelyn’s rage and grief. She, and Robb, are both unhappy with Roose’s suggestion that they keep Theon as a hostage. Roose clarifies that he just means keeping Theon hostage and demanding concessions to execute him. Robb okays this.

Back to the Lannisters, though, and it’s here that I’ll move into what this chapter really does.

Foreshadowing

This chapter is all about the leadup to the Red Wedding. Red flags abound this chapter, not just in a literary sense but in concrete in-universe signs that something is amiss. The first nasty bit crops up as Catelyn and Robb discuss guest right and the need for him to avail himself of it.

Robb looked more amused than afraid. “I have an army to protect me, Mother, I don’t need to trust in bread and salt.”

Neither will do Robb much good here.

Next, Grey Wind starts growling at the Freys, and then even lunges at them. Not a very diplomatic start to proceedings. Even when Grey Wind is called off, he has to be coaxed into entering the Twins. More good signs.

During the meeting with Walder Frey, he’s being his usual pleasant self (see above). The worrying signs come when Roslin is introduced.

“M,y lady is beautiful.” Edmure took her hand and drew her to her feet. “But why are you crying?” “For joy,” Roslin said. “I weep for joy, my lord.”

Uh-huh. Moving on, Lord Walder’s got his own comments to make about the wedding. He orders Roslin taken away, because she has a wedding to prepare for: “And a bedding, heh, the sweetest part. For all, for all.” He further adds, “We’ll have music, such sweet music, and wine, heh, the red will run, and we’ll set some wrongs aright.”

We see here that Lord Walder being an asshole and Lord Walder planning to kill a bunch of people at the wedding are inextricably intertwined. We know, with the benefit of hindsight, that Walder’s referring to murdering a whole bunch of people here during the bedding, that the music he refers to is the signal for the slaughter, and the red that will run is blood. The characters can’t pick this up in advance because Lord Walder is just that much of a jerk.

There’s also a reference to the Frey childrens’ game mentioned in Bran I, ACoK, where all oaths are binding unless someone says ‘mayhaps’. It’s doubtful anyone here has the full knowledge, but by the rules of the game, Walder Frey as the Lord of the Crossing retains the right to use a stick and push anyone into the river any time he likes. Another thing the readers know but the characters don’t.

After this exchange, Catelyn calls for food. Walder wasn’t offering it, but he had it ready to go when asked for. He makes the show of it, welcoming all present as his honoured guests, while Robb accepts the hospitality.

Catelyn tasted the wine and nibbled at some bread, and felt much better for it. Now we should be safe, she thought.

Note the ‘should’. Catelyn does not fully trust that Walder Frey will keep to the laws of hospitality, even now. A paragraph later, she’s telling Edmure that they should post their own guards on their doors.

There’s more as Catelyn goes in search of Walder Frey’s maester to make her discreet inquiries about Roslin’s fertility. She finds a group of Freys drinking by the fire and asks about Ser Perwyn Frey, Roslin’s full brother, who as Catelyn reminds us, escorted her to Storm’s End and back in the previous book. Alas, Ser Perwyn is away, and not expected to return for the wedding.

Finally, there’s the disposition of Northern forces discussed at the end of the chapter. Brought to us courtesy of totally not a traitor Roose Bolton. Roose owns his ‘mistake’ in leaving Harrenhal too late. Strangely, it seems the result of his delay was that the Freys made it across the Trident okay, but soldiers from the hill clans and the Manderlys were left behind. Even more coincidentally, Roose left a bunch of Stouts and Cerwyns as rear guard. The author also reminds us of Northern losses at Duskendale - these were mostly Glovers and Tallharts.

What Catelyn wants to know is: who did come with Roose?

His queer colourless eyes studied her a moment before he answered. “Some five hundred horse and three thousand foot, my lady. Dreadfort men, in chief, and some from Karhold.”

Cold as Roose is, he’s most likely wondering whether the jig is up in this moment. But we don’t get to see what Catelyn thinks of Roose’s reasoning that it’s just too dangerous not to keep the Karhold soldiers close, because Robb winds the conversation up. They’re going home, he says.

Chapter Function

This chapter is 95% about the Red Wedding. It’s here to put the final pieces in place. Robb is welcomed as a guest; Lord Walder is not as much of an asshole as he could have been, but dropping ominous hints anyway. Grey Wind is freaking out, Roslin is crying, Ser Perwyn is missing. For perfectly logical, not at all Roose-related reasons, there’s a high proportion of Bolton and Karstark soldiers present. That’s all this chapter. The plan has been set into motion. It cannot be entirely hidden anymore, and the perpetrators only want to wait as long as it takes for the trap to snap fully shut. What’s been happening behind the scenes is about to come into the open.

Related, we do get the reminder on Catelyn’s part that she does have impulses towards violent revenge, when we see her reaction to the flayed skin of Theon’s finger. She restrains herself now, but she’s about to lose all reason for restraint.

Finally, this chapter gives us a bit of an update on Theon and Ramsay. Without PoVs in Winterfell, we’re relying on this belated, partial report. Theon’s alive, Winterfell is severely damaged, a bunch of Stark loyalists were killed (cough, by Ramsay, cough), and survivors have been hauled off to the Dreadfort.

Miscellany

Catelyn tells Robb that Walder Frey’s an asshole and no doubt some of his sons are too, liable to provoke Robb. It’s always interesting to note when the intelligent, politically active female characters show that they too are products of the patriarchy - Catelyn has not allowed for the possibility that any of Walder Frey’s daughters (or granddaughters) may also be assholes capable of provoking Robb.

Catelyn also remembers her own wedding. Specifically, she remembers how Lysa ‘wept lakes’ before the ceremony. She puts it down to nervousness and considers it to be entirely expected. It’s true, some people cry when nervous. But the way marriages are arranged in Westeros, nobody can tell what’s just nerves and what’s the bride distraught from being forced into a marriage she doesn’t want (or from knowing that all her in-laws are going to be murdered at the feast).

Clothing Porn

Jinglebell Frey wears costly blue wool and grey satin, with a crown and collar ornamented with brass bells. Roslin wears a pale blue gown with a lacy bodice. Catelyn wears warm wool in Tully red and blue. Roose Bolton’s got a pale pink cloak trimmed in white fur. GoT robbed us of Roose in pink, I’m telling you.

Food Porn

None.

Next Three Chapters

Bran II, ASoS - Tyrion V, ACoK - Eddard X, AGoT

[baelorbreakbeds]

people who say stannis "deserves" a better wife shut the fuck up challenge

what has stannis done to "deserve" a better wife- selyse doesnt treat him badly at all, he is the one who is an ass to her by publicly cheating on her and generally being rude and dismissive towards her-selyse is not "lesser" because she hasnt had a son stop buying into shitty in-world misogynistic expectations and think for a second.the man has sex once a year are sons meant to fall out of the sky

and yeah selyse is...well selyse but stannis is hardly a charmer.hes rude to everyone and everyone hates him(thats the cause of almost all his problems-his terrible personality and lack of interpersonal skills) and has a total of one friend who only puts up with him because he wants to get some

[goodqueenaly]

Hi again! Something that confused me in ADWD that I wanted to ask you, would you mind explaining why the widow of the waterfront changed her mind about helping Tyrion and Jorah? I got confused by the sequence of events between her refusing, Penny trying to attack Tyrion, and then she helps them find a boat going to Meereen. Sorry if its a dumb question.

It's not a dumb question! The sequence is a bit rushed and compressed, but I think the general idea is that the widow changed her mind less about Jorah and more about Tyrion.

Prior to the appearance of Penny, the widow was little moved to help Jorah, and for good reason. Where Tyrion quickly grasped the correct way to approach the widow of the waterfront, Jorah's tactless gift, brusque dismissals, and idealized declarations of chivalric intent toward Daenerys all failed to sway the widow. In the widow's eyes, Tyrion I think appeared as no more than Jorah's bagged prize: she asked Jorah whether Daenerys would "bathe in his [i.e. Tyrion's] blood ... or content herself with striking off his head" because she knew that Tyrion was “[k]inslayer, kingslayer, murderer, turncloak. Lannister" (emphasis in original) - that is, guilty not just of his own (ostensible) crimes but those of the family which had helped depose Daenerys' dynasty and kill her father. The widow was not going to spend her influence and resources, I think, simply to aid this man whose motives she distrusted in giving Daenerys a person to execute.

Yet after the appearance of Penny, I think the widow may have felt somewhat put on the spot to do something about Tyrion. Penny had just advertised Tyrion's true identity to the entire Merchant's House; if there were any lingering doubt that more people would be coming even as far as Volantis to seek his head, her revelation had summarily destroyed that notion. Already somewhat impressed by Tyrion's honesty, and aware that Tyrion was (at least effectively) enslaved (and so more representative of her interest in an actively anti-slavery queen), the widow may have decided that it was better to send Tyrion (and Jorah) along to Meereen in the hope of them reaching Daenerys than allow him to stay and simply be murdered in Volantis or elsewhere. If she, the widow, wanted Daenerys to know that "the slaves of Old Volantis" were eagerly awaiting Daenerys' eventual arrival and their liberation through her, then the clever, honest, currently enslaved Tyrion, very much unwelcome in and very much opposed to the Lannister regime in Westeros, could served as a capable representative for that message - much more so, anyway, than if he were a dead corpse whose head was mounted on Cersei's wall.

[aegor-bamfsteel]

What do you think about Selyse Baratheon? Sometimes she gives me vibes of Cersei and Lysa.

I’m a fan of Stannis, but even I know that he treats her terribly, and he wouldn’t have been better to a “more attractive”, more pleasant, more fecund wife. You thinking of Lysa/Cersei makes sense because she’s an unpleasant person trapped in a loveless marriage, which helps show why Selyse is how she is (this is one of the strengths of the main series, how even minor characters have context for their actions). The difference between Lysa/Cersei is that not only is Selyse never attractive (men go out of their way to mock her facial hair, and she never has a loved one that softens her character), but she doesn’t matter as much. Cersei is queen and Lysa is Hand’s wife, daughters of Lord Paramounts, both of them become regents, both of them have sons they spoil; meanwhile, Selyse is the niece of a Florent, only chosen as a bride because Jon Arryn wanted to curb Tyrell power. Marriage to a king’s brother is supposed to be a great triumph for her…except the king deflowered her cousin in her marriage bed, she’s lady of an inhospitable island with few followers, her husband is more interested in ships and smugglers and can hardly stand to touch her, so the only child she has with him is a daughter, who had greyscale as an infant. She does the opposite of spoil Shireen, snapping at her to not talk about her cousin to Val, sending her to her room, kissing her on her unscarred cheek, Shireen wears her hood in her presence curled up away from her…It makes sense that she’d be so taken with the Rhllor religion. Suddenly she matters, her husband is the savior of the world rather than an embittered Master of Ships, all that has gone wrong in her life (Edric’s conception, Stannis’ coldness, her lack of children) can be undone by the right magic words and actions (even child burning). Whereas Cersei/Lysa found comfort in lovers (or pretend lovers), she found her sense of purpose in Rhllor, and thus will hold on to him to the end. She’s a lot more than “crazy lady with fetuses in jars” like the show depicted.

She actually has similarities to Stannis in their uncompromising attitudes and stiffness with people. However, just like Cersei/Lysa, she’s drawn much less sympathetically/impressively than her male counterpart. Petyr is one of the most formidable threats to House Stark in the series with little but his wits/money-making; Lysa is emotionally unstable, easily manipulated, and he kills her halfway through the series once she’s no longer useful to him. Tyrion and Jaime are hailed as two of the best characters in the series because of their complexity, and both are capable of bravery and even some kindness; contrast Cersei, who enables torture, murdered at a young age, is also vain and easily manipulated, runs her regency into the ground in less than a year, etc. GRRM says that Stannis is a righteous man for going North, he believes in meritocracy, and he has the most known victories of any commander in Westeros; Selyse…can you think of any redeeming traits for her? She mocks Cressen, advocates burning a child, wants to let the Hardhome wildlings die (so much for saving humanity), is classist and willfully misunderstands wildling culture, and she brings in the Florents who are incompetent (Imry) or cruel (Axell) leaders. Jon comments that she is always disappointing him. She has none of Shireen’s innocent openness, Stannis’ accomplishments and vision, Davos’ honesty and loyalty, or even Melisandre’s powers and showmanship. She’s repeatedly demeaned for her looks (as Lysa and later Cersei are), and I don’t think she’s made a sensible political decision in the series. But she doesn’t even have the “must protect my child at all costs” motivation of Lysa and Cersei, who do love their kids as more than just heirs to a seat, and took desperate actions to defend them. Maybe some of the ASOIAF theorists are right and she will show some love for Shireen at the end, giving her life trying to protect or avenge her, in a somewhat positive character twist.

[goodqueenaly]

I apologize if this is a question you've already answered. Your posts about the "She-Wolves of Winterfell" are really interesting and that's an ASOIAF historical story I find really interesting. For some reason I had thought that Serena was older than Sansa, but apparently not. I am probably missing something obvious, but was wondering if you have any theories about Serena marrying Edric rather than Barthogan or Brandon? I know that Sansa and Serena were deliberately prevented from ruling Winterfell in their own right, but it seemed like a deliberate effort to exclude them even from being the line that the ruling Starks descend from? I feel like I'm maybe off the mark though?

For one, there seems to be some lack of clarity, at least for now, on the birth order of Rickon Stark's daughters. While TWOIAF's Stark family tree lists Serena as the elder sister and Sansa as the younger, Elio Garcia made a comment on Discord (reproduced on the Westeros.org forums) that per GRRM's own notes, Sansa was the elder and Serena the younger. This would not be the first time later volumes edited or changed established dynastic details, of course - indeed, F&B eliminated one of Jaehaerys and Alysanne's sons, introduced a new daughter, and reshuffled the birth order of their other children - and so I will not at all be surprised if, say, whatever "The She-Wolves of Winterfell" ends up being called confirms that Sansa was really the elder of the two daughters of Rickon.

Anyway, the marriages of Rickon's daughters are a largely (as yet) unexplained but very intriguing detail in the history of the Stark family. If Sansa really were the elder (and assuming that the birth order of Cregan's sons by Lynara will not change), then theirs would have been the marriage of the most senior male-line descendant of Cregan and the eldest surviving son of Cregan, a powerful combination of dynastic claims. Did Cregan and/or anyone else involved in making the marriage arrange just such a match because he (or, again, anyone else involved) envisioned Sansa and Jonnel as ruling as joint lord and lady, rather than one spouse subservient to the other? Did whoever arranged this match want to subsume Sansa's claim into Jonnel's - keeping her as only the future Lord Jonnel's consort rather than allowing her to press forward her own claim (with her own aristocratic husband, perhaps, to back her)? Or just the opposite - did the architect(s) of this union believe that Sansa should be the ruling Lady of Winterfell someday and wish to prevent Cregan's eldest surviving son from challenging her claim to the high seat of the Starks? Any or none of the above might have been the explanation for the marriage, but until and unless we learn more about the times and players involved, these and many other questions remain outstanding (and really, I could probably think of a thousand more possibilities of what any of the individuals involved might have been thinking, but that's a deep rabbit hole for as yet so little information).

As for Serena and Edric, their marriage is even more vague and subject to speculation. To cite Elio Gracia again, he asserts that Serena was first married to Jon Umber and then to Edric Stark. There is no telling when either of these marriages (much less specifically the one with Edric) occurred, and still less what might have driven such a union. Perhaps their marriage was an attempt to breed Rickon's line back into the ruling Stark dynasty, with Jonnel have no son by either Sansa or his second wife, Robyn Ryswell; as Edric would be Jonnel's heir presumptive for lack of (male) issue on the latter's part, maybe Serena was encouraged/arranged/forced to marry Edric in order to consolidate potentially warring claims into a dynastically suitable (and, again, presumably male) child. Perhaps it was an attempt by Edric to assert himself and/or his wife against elder brother Jonnel (especially if Sansa had already died), by claiming that Serena was the rightful heiress to Winterfell and Jonnel a usurper. Perhaps it arose from reluctance to have Serena marrying a non-Stark northern aristocrat and making a play for Winterfell against Cregan's sons. Perhaps it was genuinely a love match (especially since we have no sense of the relative ages of Cregan's sons and Rickon's daughters, making it entirely possible for them to have been of an age and raised together). Again, any or none of these suggestions might provide any explanation - we'll just have to wait for whatever "The She-Wolves of Winterfell" ends up being called, Fire and Blood Volume 2, and/or maybe details hinted at in TWOW (especially to the extent the Stark reunion at Winterfell was supposed to parallel or echo the events of "The She-Wolves of Winterfell").

[mryoyo000]

Thanks so much for this great answer! Generally speaking, I am more engaged with the main series ASOIAF than with the histories, but this whole backstory is really intriguing to me. I also wonder what Sansa and Serena’s religious upbringing and practice was like, if they worshipped both the Old Gods and the Seven or only one. My first guess is that, if they were part of the faith of the Seven (even alongside faith of the old gods), they might have felt that anyone contesting their claims to Winterfell would try to use that against them. I might be just really overthinking this, though.