Now My Read Begins... (A Song of Ice and Fire Let's Read and Commentary)

So I find it a little odd that no-one raises any objection to Lysa so obviously - assuming you believe in the gods, and we ought to assume that most characters do, you're not usually going to assume this kind of 'technically in line with the rules but totally betraying their spirit' thing is going to fly with the gods when you just called on them to witness this trial. People don't usually consider their gods to have no attention span, or to adhere to the precise letter of law over its spirit;
On one level I think you're right, GRRM makes the faith of the seven pretty much entirely toothless throughout the first three books. On the other hand, I do think that there's some wiggle room here. It's not like Lysa is the source of the danger or sending men after them, she's just ejecting them from her own territory in such a way that makes them likely to be killed by bandits. Surely, if the gods have looked after him thus far, they'll do it again right?
 
On one level I think you're right, GRRM makes the faith of the seven pretty much entirely toothless throughout the first three books. On the other hand, I do think that there's some wiggle room here. It's not like Lysa is the source of the danger or sending men after them, she's just ejecting them from her own territory in such a way that makes them likely to be killed by bandits. Surely, if the gods have looked after him thus far, they'll do it again right?
I definitely think that's a valid justification - I just wish someone had brought it up, you know? Show that this kind of thing is a presence in people's minds.
 
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Which isn't really how swords work on armor as far as I know, unless they're magic, but whatever.
To be extremely charitable - assuming that Vardis is overconfident beyond all reason (and honestly, probably also assuming that the knights in this specific region of Westeros haven't seen any kind of significant conflict for at least a couple of generations, which I have no idea one way or the other) - one could theorize that Vardis chose to wear ceremonial/parade armor, designed for looks and ease of wear over actual functionality, and the breastplate is actually a thin sheet of light, weak metal.

It's still a pretty good sign of Martin not being as well-read on "gritty, realistic" combat as he might like to think.


No one raises any objection to Lysa so obviously - what?
I think the intent here is to use "so obviously" in the same sense as phrases like "so boldly", or "so cruelly". Not only is there a lack of objection to Lysa's edict, there's not even a momentary pause or a murmur of discontent among the onlookers - undermining the idea of this being, ostensibly, a religiously sanctified affair in which the kind of word-twisting Lysa has engaged in could result in literal divine punishment upon her and all of her subjects.
 
The trial by combat is explicitly a religious ritual; there's even a priest present who directly calls on the gods to witness its result. So I find it a little odd that no-one raises any objection to Lysa so obviously playing silly buggers with the results of the trial by combat by sending Tyrion to his death after it just 'proved' his innocence.

Assuming you believe in the gods, and we ought to assume that most characters do, you're not usually going to assume this kind of 'technically in line with the rules but totally betraying their spirit' thing is going to fly with the gods when you just called on them to witness this trial. People don't usually consider their gods to have no attention span, or to adhere to the precise letter of law over its spirit; this is the kind of trick which might work in a court of written law, but why would anyone risk the wrath of the gods by doing ths? To me, at least, it's another example of Martin being unfortunately not very good at writing characters who actually act as though motivated by their stated belief system.

Anyway, next chapter is Jon V, in which Jon and a number of his friends get to graduate from the tender care of Alliser Thorne, and Jon pulls some strings to make sure Sam stays okay.


This is the kind of silly buggers I expect religious people to get up to to self justify results they want to happen. Martin's disdain for religion aside, this isn't one of the places I feel he faulters.
 
Robert is getting furious again, and tells Cersei to hold her tongue, but she takes a jab at his masculinity, saying that he should be in skirts and her in mail.
This isn't the first time Cersei will have these sorts of thoughts IIRC, but it is the only time she voices them aloud right?
 
This is the kind of silly buggers I expect religious people to get up to to self justify results they want to happen. Martin's disdain for religion aside, this isn't one of the places I feel he faulters.
I think that the issue is that it's just one more indignity thrown atop a mountainous heap of them. If Lysa and her Hapsburg changeling son were capable of maintaining some kind of decorum or basic dignity in public, then certainly, they could get away with this.

Instead, what they've got is a mad regent governing on behalf of an even madder lord-in-waiting, with a sparsely-populated murderer's row of opportunists thinking they can rein in this runaway chariot before it flies off a cliff. This is a regency that should be supremely unpopular, not least of which because Sweetrobin could decide to order the execution of any one of the lords attending the court and, at best, send shockwaves through the local political scene when the throne's authority is openly undermined by everyone saying, "No, that's stupid."

This is a mess that splashes on just about everyone in the castle with stunning regularity. Everyone, outside of the aforementioned murderer's row of opportunists, would rightly be humiliated and unsettled by having to politely ignore the second coming of Mad King Aerys gibbering and raging on his mother's lap. Her actively needling the Lannisters gets a pass (presumably) because everyone's upset that Lord Arryn - the only remaining voice of basic competence in this circus, however distant - is dead and they're happy to blame the Lannisters.

It seems reasonable to me that in such an already-disgruntled environment, having Lysa diversify her portfolio by shitting on a religious ritual (in addition to her more generally making a mockery of courtly etiquette) would noticeably jostle the needle on the ambient discontent.
 
Okay, I planned to write the chapter today, but events got away from me, I'm very frustrated, and generally not in a good mood to do a chapter today; I'll have a shot at it tomorrow.
 
Jon V (Deals in the Night)
Content Warnings: References to violence

We begin with the delightful Alliser Thorne doing his best drill sergreant impression and degrading all the boyus he's training - before telling them that as five new recruits are coming, he's going to be graduating eight of them - including Grenn, Pyp and Jon - to be given their oles in the Watch proper by the Lord Commander. He says that some fools will call them men, but as far as he's concerned they're still green boys, and are going to die like flies when winter comes. And with that charming pronouncement, he leaves.

The boys celebrate, and Dareon goes to grab some wine, but as it's being passed around Jon notices Sam standing apart from the group. Jon offers him wine, and asks if he's well, and Sam lies that he is, saying that he's happy for them all, and says Jon will be First Ranger one day, like his uncle was. Is, Jon corrects him, while Pyp grabs the wineskin, Grenn grabs Jon, and Pyp sprays some of the wine in his face as a joke. By the time Jon gets free of the merry little riot, Sam's gone.

That night, the boys get a special meal, and the older men give them small congratulations as they eat. Pyp wonders if they'll be kept together, and people get to talking about which part of the Watch they'll be joining - the Stewards (who deal with the menial and administrative tasks of maintaining the Watch), the Builders (who repair and maintain the keeps, crush stone for footpaths and clear away forests too close to the Wall), and the Rangers (the fighting core of the Watch, who head out beyond the Wall). Needless to say, most of the boys want to be Rangers, though at least one, Halder, proclaims that he's for the Builders. Dareon says that Halder's as much a shoo-in for the Builders as Jon is for the Rangers; he's the best fighter and rider, and his uncle was First Ranger. Is, Jon corrects again. Put off his meal, he leaves the last of his blueberries, and rises from the table, saying he's going to find Sam. Pyp wonders if he's fallen ill, but Jon (in another display of his perceptiveness) says that he's afraid the others are leaving him - once they swear to the Watch they'll have their own duties, maybe be sent away, and without their protection Ser Alliser will surely put the worst of the new recruits up against Sam for petty revenge. Pyp says Jon did all he could, but Jon says what they did wasn't enough.

He heads out to find Ghost, then saddles a horse to ride out of the castle, to let Ghost hunt, and clear his own head. The sight of the road southwards makes Jon think of going back home to Winterfell - he hasn't sworn to the Watch yet, after all. He could be with his siblings again - half-siblings, though, and Lady Stark, who wouldn't welcome him. He feels like there's no place in the world for him, even with his mother, and he wonders why Ned had left her. He turns back towards Castle Black, and Ghost soon-rejoins him, having done his hunting - but by the time he reaches the stables, he has the start of a plan.

He makes his way to the apartments of Maester Aemon, beneath the rookery, and demands of Chett (one of Aemon's assistants) to see the Maester. Chett tries to send him away, but Jon insists, and Chett eventually caves, having Jon start a fire while he fetches the old, blind Maester. When he arrives, Jon apologizes for waking him, but Aemon says he doesn't sleep much anymore, and often spends half the night with his ghosts, so a mystery visitor at midnight is a welcome distraction. Jon gets right to the point, and asks that Samwell Tarly be taken from training and made a brother of the Watch. Aemon says that Alliser Thorne has the charge of training recruits, and deciding when they graduate. Jon counters by saying that the Lord Commander listens to Aemon, and the wounded and sick are in Aemon's care. Aemon asks if Sam is wounded or sick, and Jon replies that he will be if Aemon doesn't help.

Jon explains the basic issue with Sam - that he isn't, and probably never will be, a fighter, and trying to make him one will just get him killed. Chett calls Sam a pig and a hopeless craven, and when Aemon asks him what he would have them do with such a boy, he says to leave him where he is; let Alliser either 'make a man' of him or kill him. Jon spits that that's stupid, and begins telling a small story.

He relates a time when he asked Maester Luwin why he wore a chain, and Luwin replied that it was to remind a maester that they are sworn to serve. Jon then said that a silver chain would go better with his robes, and Luwin told him that the chain is forged with study, and each metal stands for a type of learning; the collar reminds the maester of the complexity of the realm he serves, and that no part of it can stand alone. In the same way that the land needs all sorts of people, so the Night's Watch needs all sorts too. Jon says that Sam's father couldn't make him a warrior, and Alliser Thorne won't either; they're trying to hammer tin into iron.

Chett takes exception to some of Jon's language and angrily protests that being a steward isn't easy work 'fit for cowards'. He lists all that they do: "We hunt and farm, tend the horses, milk the cows, gather firewood, cook the meals. Who do you think makes your clothing? Who brings up supplies from the south? The stewards." Maester Aemon, more gently, asks if Sam is a hunter? Can he plow a field, drive a wagon, sail a ship or butcher a cow? Jon says no, and Chett laughs, talking about how incompetent and soft 'lordlings' are when put to real work - but Jon says there's one thing Sam could do better than anyone: Help Maester Aemon. He can do sums, and is literate. Chett can't read, and Clydas (Aemon's other assistant) has bad eyes. Sam is well-read, and good with animals. "The Night's Watch needs every man. Why kill one, to no end? Make use of him instead."

Aemon considers this for a moment, and says that Maester Luwin taught Jon well; he's a clever boy. He says he'll think on it further, but for now, he's ready to sleep.

So, the function of this chapter is obviously getting Sam into his new position as Maester Aemon's assistant, but it's also very much a character chapter for Jon. We get to see two important sides of him here; on the one hand, his motivation for saving Sam is compassionate rather than practical, I think - but he's perceptive, well-educated and well-spoken enough to argue for compassion in practical terms, and he's good at getting what he wants out of people when he can talk to them.

That said, I think this chapter also has a manifestation of something I've brought up in various ways before; which is the interest Martin seems to have in dichotomies of 'hardness' and 'softness', especially. He definitely comes out on the side of there being value on either side of that divide in this chapter, and Chett in particular is portrayed as essentially 'stupid, ugly, cruel and crude', but I don't think Martin really questions the dichotomy in the first place.

Next chapter is Tyrion VI, in which Tyrion and Bronn have a heart-to-heart, Tyrion does some more quick talking to get himself some more minions... And I have to tell the story of Tyrion and Tysha. Which I'm really not looking forward to.
 
One thing to be aware: G.R.R.M uses almost no viewpoint characters who aren't aristocrats. The "smallfolk" generally do not get chapters written from their perspective, despite making up 99% of the population.
 
That said, I think this chapter also has a manifestation of something I've brought up in various ways before; which is the interest Martin seems to have in dichotomies of 'hardness' and 'softness', especially. He definitely comes out on the side of there being value on either side of that divide in this chapter, and Chett in particular is portrayed as essentially 'stupid, ugly, cruel and crude', but I don't think Martin really questions the dichotomy in the first place.
I don't think he ever brings it into focus, but it does seem like an undercurrent running throughout Sam's arc. We'll see Chet again as the POV in the ASOS prologue, where he plots with other watchmen to assassinate the Lord Commander and desert the watch during the great ranging and comes off as even worse in that chapter than he does in this one, although GRRM isn't entirely devoid of empathy for him.
 
Tyrion VI (Words By Firelight)
Content Warnings: Violence, mention of underage sex, marriage and rape

So, yeah. This chapter's going to be another heavy one. Pay attention to the CWs above - though most of that is fortunately in one spot, and I'm sectioning it away in a spoiler. Still. Be careful.

We begin with Tyrion and Bronn taking shelter just off the High Road through the mountains. Tyrion is gathering sticks for a fire, but Bronn says a fire will draw down the mountain clansmen on their heads. They should travel by night, hole up by day, avoid the road where they can, and make no fires if they want to get through without being killed. Tyrion points out that going hard and fast by night is a good way to break your skull or kill your horse - and he suspects the clans will find them anyway. A fire will keep them warm and let them make hot food. Bronn contemplates taking Tyrion's horse and trying to make a break for it on his own, and Tyrion seems unconcerned. Bronn asks him if he thinks he wouldn't do it, and Tyrion replies that he's sure Bronn would if it meant his life. He points out that Bronn killed his friend Chiggen when he got an arrow in the belly. Bronn says that that was a mercy killing, and a necessary one - and besides that, neither Tyrion nor Chiggen were his friends.

Tyrion says that he needed Bronn's blade, not his love, and Bronn asks him how he was so sure he'd take his part. Tyrion replies that he wasn't sure - but that Bronn and Chiggen, as mercenaries, had helped to take him captive in hopes of a reward from Catelyn, but learned that she wouldn't have offered more than a little coin; certainly not a long-term placement in their household. Once they reached the Vale, Catelyn had no more use for Bronn - but Tyrion did, and the Lannisters are famous for their wealth. Therefore, he gambled on Bronn taking his part for the sake of what he could offer. He asks Bronn what he'd like; keep him alive and he'll have it. And if he dies, Tyrion will have at least one mourner whose grief is sincere; the gold will stop coming for Bronn. Bronn agrees to the idea, and Tyrion says that if he's ever tempted to betray him, remember that Tyrion will match the other side's price. And now, would he please go find them some supper?

An hour later, they have the remains of a young goat roasting on the fire. Bronn says he'll take first watch, for all the good it'll do them. Tyrion is nonchalant about the threat of mountain clansmen, and Bronn thinks he has a plan. Tyrion says yes - albeit another gamble - before cutting off a bit of the meat to eat. He says it's a step up from the Eyrie, where he'd be dancing on a precipice for beans. He remembers giving Mord the gold of his purse - more than Mord could have hoped to earn in a lifetime - and telling him that if he ever tires of Lady Arryn's service, to come to Casterly Rock so he can 'pay him the rest of what he owes him'.

Bronn and Tyrion begin talking about what they'll do when they get back to civilization, and the conversation turns to Tyrion having 'some questions that want answering, concerning a certain dagger'. Bronn is surprised that Tyrion was telling the truth and it wasn't actually his knife; Tyrion asks if he looks like a liar to Bronn. By the time their meal is finished, it's gotten dark and no-one has arrived. Tyrion comments on this, and Bronn says they probably fear it's a trap - they're being so obvious it'd be silly to expect anything else. Tyrion jokes that they ought to sing and send their stalkers fleeing in terror, and begins to whistle. They banter a little, and Tyrion asks if Bronn knows the tune. Bronn says he's heard it here and there in inns and brothels, and Tyrion says it's Myrish, The Seasons of My Love; the first girl he ever had sex with used to sing it.

And because Tyrion means 'girl', this is going in spoilers.

When Tyrion was 13, he and Jaime came upon a girl, slightly older than Tyrion, being chased by two brigands on the road. Tyrion stayed with the girl, Tysha; a crofter's child, orphaned and wandering in search of some hope, and offered to take her to an inn and put her up while Jaime went for help. She took him up on the offer, they went to an inn, ate and drank, got a bit drunk, and ended up in bed together. By the morning, Tyrion says, he was in love - and later, he married her, with the help of some money, some lies and a drunken Septon. He didn't dare bring Tysha back to Casterly Rock, so he set them up in a cottage and they played at marriage for two weeks.

Then the septon sobered up and told Tywin.

Bronn asks if Tywin sent Tysha away, and Tyrion says he did much worse than that. He made Jaime tell Tyrion the 'truth' - that Tysha had been a whore he had employed for Tyrion to have his first time with. Then Tywin had each of his guards rape Tysha while Tyrion was made to watch, paying her for each, then he forced Tyrion to do the same, and pay her with gold.
Bronn says that he would have killed the man who did that to him. Tyrion hints that he'd like to, and says to wake him if they're about to die. He dreams of his sky cell, being the jailer rather than the prisoner, driving his father back towards the abyss...

Bronn wakes him him up, to find the fire burned low and shadows creeping in around them. Tyrion motions for Bronn to stay still, and calls out that the people approaching can share their fire, and their goat. A voice calls back that it's their goat. Tyrion asks who this person is, and the person replies that "When you meet your gods, say it was Gunthor son of Gurn of the Stone Crows who sent you do them." A thin man in a horned helmet steps into the light, with a long knife. Shagga son of Dolf, Conn and more introduce themselves, coming closer. Once they're done, Tyrion introduces himself as Tyrion son of Tywin of Clan Lannister, and happy to pay for the goat they ate. Gunthor asks what they have to give them, and Tyrion offers his money, his hauberk, the battle-axe he holds - they're better equipment than the men have. Conn says he's trying to pay them with their own money; they can take all those things.

Gunthor asks how Tyrion wants to die, and Tyrion says, at eighty in his own bed with a belly full of wine. Shagga laughs, and Gunthor says to take the horses and kill Bronn, but keep Tyrion to milk the goats and make the women laugh. Bronn threatens them, but Tyrion orders him not to, and says that his House is rich and powerful; if the Stone Crows see them safely through the mountains, they'll be showered with gold. Gunthor says a lowland lord's promises are worthless, but Tyrion points out how poor their weapons are - woodsman's axes, clubs, fire-hardened wooden spears - and that his father's smiths shit better steel. Shagga angrily asks if he'll mock his axe after he castrates him, but Gunthor holds him back.

Gunthor says that they're a hungry people, and "steel fills more mouths than gold". He asks what weapons Tyrion will give them for his life and that of Bronn, and Tyrion offers the Vale of Arryn.

So, yeah. Real fucking heavy shit there mid-chapter, some hashing out of the precise relationship between Tyrion and Bronn, and Martin's second go at portraying a 'barbarian' culture after the Dothraki. Can't say he's doing much better here, but that's the chapter.

Next is Eddard XI, in which Robert has left his badly wounded friend to do his job in his place, and the consequences of Catelyn's capture of Tyrion begin to play out on the geopolitical rather than just personal scale.
 
Off topic but I've been thinking about the mess with House of the Dragon and one thing I think has been a really consistent feature of both the fandom and the people adapting Martin's work to not really get women like Catelyn and Alicent. There's a pretty big discourse that Catelyn is this evil stepmother to Jon and she's not just... she doesn't really like him or interact him but the only time she is actively cruel is when she is in a position of extreme stress. (It still wasn't a nice or good thing to say but the circumstances were about as far from normal as possible.) I think a lot of people have this real difficulty understanding just how vulnerable someone in Catelyn's position actually is* and how much of an unfair advantage that we have because we can see inside Jon's head and see how he actually thinks about his siblings. (And also, I don't think a lot of people have really clocked how important Catelyn and Alicent's children are to them psychologically as well as practically.)

*One of the more telling scenes in the books is when Catelyn remembers how she tried to ask Ned about Jon's parentage and it is one of the only times he actually frightens her. Ned is pretty much the ideal Westerosi husband, so its all too easy to see how it could have gone if someone with a different temperament was in Ned's place.
 
Bronn says that he would have killed the man who did that to him. Tyrion hints that he'd like to, and says to wake him if they're about to die. He dreams of his sky cell, being the jailer rather than the prisoner, driving his father back towards the abyss...
Could this be foreshadowing?!?!?
 
There's a pretty big discourse that Catelyn is this evil stepmother to Jon and she's not just... she doesn't really like him or interact him but the only time she is actively cruel is when she is in a position of extreme stress.
It is, IIRC, the first and only interaction the audience sees between Cat and Jon. So that's going to colour people's perspectives.
 
it was Gunthor son of Gurn of the Stone Crows who sent you do them."

I'm reminded of how the hill-folk from Tolkien's work received precious little focus, despite being fairly sympathetic from what I recall of their actual backstory - Rohan was founded by domineering conquerors who drove the ancestors of the hill-folk into said hills, trapping them in eternal poverty and desperation while Rohan grew fat on the land it stole from them.
 

I'm reminded of how the hill-folk from Tolkien's work received precious little focus, despite being fairly sympathetic from what I recall of their actual backstory - Rohan was founded by domineering conquerors who drove the ancestors of the hill-folk into said hills, trapping them in eternal poverty and desperation while Rohan grew fat on the land it stole from them.
Yeah it noted that the Dunlending join Sauron and Saurman because the people of Rohan were complete asshole to them.

Don't know if it true but I was also told by my friend that the Rohirrim use to hunt Dunlending people as sport.
 
Off topic but I've been thinking about the mess with House of the Dragon and one thing I think has been a really consistent feature of both the fandom and the people adapting Martin's work to not really get women like Catelyn and Alicent. There's a pretty big discourse that Catelyn is this evil stepmother to Jon and she's not just... she doesn't really like him or interact him but the only time she is actively cruel is when she is in a position of extreme stress. (It still wasn't a nice or good thing to say but the circumstances were about as far from normal as possible.) I think a lot of people have this real difficulty understanding just how vulnerable someone in Catelyn's position actually is* and how much of an unfair advantage that we have because we can see inside Jon's head and see how he actually thinks about his siblings. (And also, I don't think a lot of people have really clocked how important Catelyn and Alicent's children are to them psychologically as well as practically.)

*One of the more telling scenes in the books is when Catelyn remembers how she tried to ask Ned about Jon's parentage and it is one of the only times he actually frightens her. Ned is pretty much the ideal Westerosi husband, so its all too easy to see how it could have gone if someone with a different temperament was in Ned's place.
Part of it is this, and part of it is the later books dropping any nuance over how bonkers and broken medieval values are when things like the Brave Companions, foraging, and the efforts to rebuild afterwards are.

Oh, and having to see how many bastard children are left out to dry when the worst of them get rewarded for living up to the stereotypes.
 
Eddard XI (Judgements From On High)
Content Warnings: Mention of attacks on civilians

We begin with Ned sitting on the Iron Throne, "an ironwork monstrosity of spikes and jagged edges and grotesquely twisted metal," while he looks out over a sunny throne room hung with hunting tapestries – but all Ned can see is the red of blood.

Symbolism much?

Anyway, Ned internally damns Aegon for his arrogance in making the thing, and Robert for his hunting, while Varys asks a group of villagers led by Ser Raymun Darry, if they are certain the men who attacked them were more than brigands. Ser Raymun hotly protests that they were brigands beyond a doubt; Lannister brigands. His companion, Ser Karyl Vance, says that those who follow them are the only survivors from a series of attacks on villages and small holdfasters in the Riverlands. Ned commands them to rise, and Ser Raymun tells the spokesperson of the villagers to speak of what he saw.

The man explains he kept an alehouse in Sherrer, where these men came, drank their fill and spilled the rest before they set fire to the roof, and would have killed him as well if he hadn't escaped. A farmer attests that another group set fire to the fields and houses, killing those who tried to flee – but they didn't steal; killing cows where they stood and leaving them. A smith recounts how his apprentice was ridden down and killed as a kind of horrible game, a girl mentions her mother's death, and Ser Raymun describes how the people of Wendish Town took shelter in their holdfast – but it was wooden, and the men set it alight and shot at those who tried to flee. Varys murmurs about how dreadful it is; how cruel men can be. Joss (the alehouse-keeper) says that they would have done the same for Sherrer, but their holdfast was stone, and the brigands decided to move on for easier prey.

Ned leans forward, feeling the blades between his fingers, and thinks again about the throne's deadliness. He feels furious, but asks what proof the petitioners have that the raiders were Lannisters. The last of the knights, Ser Marq Piper, says they weren't stupid enough to use red banners, while Ser Karyl points out how well-equipped the men were. He calls an old man forwards to tell Ned what the man told him, and the old man says that they rode warhorses; the old man used to work in stables, and none of the raiders' horses ever pulled a plough. Littlefinger says they're certainly well-mounted brigands, but perhaps they stole the horses from the last place they raided. Ned asks how many men were in the raiding party, and gets answers from fifty to a hundred to hundreds and hundreds. He asks what devices or symbols the raiders wore, and Joss the brewer says their armor was plain – but that one of the men was truly massive; a giant the size of an ox. Ser Marq breaks in that how can anyone doubt that this is Gregor Clegane being described – and therefore, Tywin Lannister is behind this. Ned thinks it's small wonder that the villagers look so terrified at the idea of accusing the king's father-in-law – and wonders if the knights gave them a choice.

Maester Pycelle tries to play devil's advocate, saying that there are many large men in the realm. Ser Karyl and Ser Raymun protest that there are none so large as the Mountain That Rides, and ask whether Ned needs to see his seal on the corpses. Pycelle continues, arguing that Gregor has no reason to turn brigand, given that he has a keep and lands of his own, and is an anointed knight. A false knight, and Lord Tywin's mad dog, Ser Marq declares, whereupon Pycelle appeals to Ned to remind Ser Marq that Lord Tywin is 'the father of our own gracious queen'. Ned sarcastically remarks that he might have forgotten if that were not pointed out.

He looks out over the hall again, and sees men slipping away, as well as a glimpse of Septa Mordane and Sansa in the gallery; he feels a tinge of anger at that, as this isn't a place for a girl, then admits in his mind that there's no way the Septa could have known what this session of court would have ended in.

Below the throne, Littlefinger asks the three knights what they were doing, while these holdfasts under their protection were being attacked. Ser Karyl answers that he and Ser Marq were attending his father in the pass below the Golden Tooth with Edmure Tully; when they heard of these outrages Lord Tully sent them to gather survivors and bring their grievences before the king. Ser Raymun adds that Edmure summoned him to Riverrun and was awaiting his commands with his men when he got word of the attacks. Petyr asks what'll happen if the raiders come again, and Ser Marq replies that they'll water the fields with their blood, while Ser Karyl explains that forces have been sent out from Riverrun to garrison all the villages and holdfasts near the border.

Ned thinks that this might have been the point of the raids; to force or goad Edmure into scattering his forces. He thinks of Edmure as 'more gallant than wise', and inclined to try to hold every part of his lands without strategy. Meanwhile, Littlefinger is asking what they want from the throne, if the Riverlands are already defended. Ser Raymun declares that the lords of the Trident keep the King's Peace, while the Lannisters break it; he asks for leave to answer their transgressions, and justice for the smallfolk who have suffered. Ser Marq adds that Lord Hoster Tully commanded them to come and beg royal permission before they struck. Ned blesses old Hoster in his mind; if they hadn't made that move, the Lannisters would have been able to claim an unprovoked attack to Robert, and it was quite possible Robert would have gone along with them.

Pycelle stands to say that these crimes should be taken to Lord Tywin, if they think one of his lords has been attacking them. Ned reminds him that the king's justice holds sway across the realm - and when Pycell tries to point out that that is the king's justice, and the king is away, and so couldn't they postpone judgement until he gets back, Ned overrules him; Robert won't be back for days, and while he is gone the Hand speaks with his voice - though he agrees Robert must be told. He picks out Ser Robar Royce and asks him to bring Robert word of what has happened.

Ser Marq Piper speaks up again, asking if they have leave to take vengeance against Ser Gregor. Ned replies that he thought they were speaking of justice, and attacking Clegane's people won't solve anything but wounded pride. Turning to the people of Sherrer, he says that he cannot give them back their homes or crops or dead, but he can offer justice. He struggles to stand, as the eyes of the hall are on him, and says that the First Men believed that the judge who called for death should swing the sword - but presently, he is incapable.

Loras Tyrell moves out of the crowd and begs the honor of acting in Ned's place. Petyr insults Loras by saying that if they sent him, Gregor would return them his head (I have to wonder if he sees a little of himself in Loras and Brandon Stark in Gregor). Meanwhile, Ned sits himself back down, and calls out to Lord Beric Dondarrion, Thoros of Myr, Ser Gladden Wylde and Lord Lothar Mallery (I had to look up which Lothar this was) to gather twenty men, and take twenty of his own guards with Lord Beric in command, to go to Gregor's keep.
Ned raised his voice, so it carried to the far end of the throne room. "In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, by the word of Eddard of the House Stark, his Hand, I charge you to ride to the westlands with all haste, to cross the Red Fork of the Trident under the king's flag, and there bring the king's justice to the false knight Gregor Clegane, and to all those who shared in his crimes. I denounce him, and attaint him, and strip him of all rank and titles, of all lands and incomes and holdings, and do sentence him to death. May the gods take pity on his soul."

In the aftermath, Loras asks what of him. Looking down at him, Ned thinks he looks almsot as young as Robb, and says that while no-one doubts his valor, they are about justice rather than vengeance. He orders Beric to ride at first light, and calls the session of court to an end. As he's helped down by two of his guards, Ned feels Loras' sullen stare on him, but he's gone by the time he reaches the floor.

Littlefinger and Pycelle are gone too, but Varys remains and says that Ned is a bolder man than him. Ned asks how so, and Varys replies that he would have sent Loras; a man with Lannisters for enemies should make the Tyrells his friends. Ned replies that Ser Loras is young, and will outgrow his disappointment. Varys then points out Ser Illyn Payne, the King's Justice - sending other men to do his job could be construed as a grave insult. Ned says that no slight was intended, but that the Paynes are bannermen to House Lannister. He thought it best to choose men without fealty to Lord Tywin.
"Very prudent, no doubt," Varys said. "Still, I chanced to see Ser Ilyn in the back of the hall, staring at us with those pale eyes of his, and I must say, he did not look pleased, though to be sure it is hard to tell with our silent knight. I hope he outgrows his disappointment as well. He does so love his work …"

So overall, this chapter is really about Ned continuing to misunderstand the nature of his position, and that of the people around him. Legally, he was totally in his rights to do everything here, but practically speaking what he's done is piss off the son of a house he really should be courting, piss off the King's Justice, send away a bunch of martial lords and a significant portion of his own martial retinue, and make a direct strike against Lannister power, without even a fig leaf of something like including Ser Illyn in the expedition - and he's removing titles from a lord without explicit royal leave, besides the general authority vested in the Hand. Legally, he's in the right. Practically, this was never not going to blow up one way or another; at the very least, it's an easy thing to point to as overreach of power on relatively little 'proof', and striking at the titles of lords is the thing they're most scared of. Ned has made himself enemies and soured potential allies by going about a righteous task in this blunt and straightforward way.

Next chapter is Sansa III, in which Sansa is told she's going back to Winterfell, doesn't react well, and gives Ned another piece of his puzzle.
 
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We begin with Ned sitting on the Iron Throne, "an ironwork monstrosity of spikes and jagged edges and grotesquely twisted metal," while he looks out over a sunny throne room hung with hunting tapestries – but all Ned can see is the red of blood.

Symbolism much?
GRRM loves his throne symbolism.

In AGOT Ned hates sitting on the iron throne because it's uncomfortable and aggravates his leg injury. In ADWD Dany hates sitting on her throne in Mereen because it's uncomfortable. In ACOK, Tyrion loves sitting on the iron throne because for a few brief instants it lets him feel taller than everyone else. It's not that subtle.
So overall, this chapter is really about Ned continuing to misunderstand the nature of his position, and that of the people around him. Legally, he was totally in his rights to do everything here, but practically speaking what he's done is piss off the son of a house he really should be courting, piss off the King's Justice, send away a bunch of martial lords and a significant portion of his own martial retinue, and make a direct strike against Lannister power, without even a fig leaf of something like including Ser Illyn in the expedition - and he's removing titles from a lord without explicit royal leave, besides the general authority vested in the Hand. Legally, he's in the right. Practically, this was never not going to blow up one way or another; at the very least, it's an easy thing to point to as overreach of power on relatively little 'proof', and striking at the titles of lords is the thing they're most scared of. Ned has made himself enemies and soured potential allies by going about a righteous task in this blunt and straightforward way.
I don't think that Ned is quite as over-the-line as you're making him out to be. Pretty much everyone at court, including neutral parties like the Stormlords and the Reachmen seem very very convinced by the plethora of smallfolk eyewitnesses who saw Gregor and Gregor is already only barely tolerated as it is. The only person who really objects is noted Lannister toady Pycell.

Moreover, this is what the hand is supposed to do, speak for the king when the king isn't there. This is what Robert brought Ned in to do, is do the actual work of punishing lawbreakers and ruling while Robert just parties and messes around. Realistically, Ned can't refrain from making decisions at all with the fear that Robert might countermand them at some point.

As for sending Loras/not sending Loras. You're right in that Ned was gift wrapped a political opportunity to set Highgarden and Casterly Rock at odds and threw it away, but it's for sympathetic reasons, in that Loras is around 16 IIRC at this point, and Ned has understandable trauma about putting kids in danger (compare and contrast with Cersei, who is only too eager to throw Loras into the meat-grinder when he offers to storm dragonstone in AFFC)
 
Pycelle continues, arguing that Gregor has no reason to turn brigand, given that he has a keep and lands of his own, and is an anointed knight.
Pycelle lying for all he's worth, trying to pretend like even he would buy the idea that Gregor wouldn't go a-slaughtering because he drank from a cask of soured wine - or just for the sake of killing.




Regarding Ned's decision... I think he could have softened the blow with proper application of rhetoric, which is unfortunately not a skill he really has. If he wasn't willing to send Loras along - not even with the fig leaf of him being there to see justice done, rather than carry it out himself - then he could still have allowed the Tyrells to contribute manpower to the punitive expedition, and allowed him a sense of secondhand involvement, or at least having his grievance properly tended to.
 
no-one was ever able to get a weirwood to sprout there - interesting in itself, seeing as the Eyrie was built by the Arryns, i.e. Andals)
It's a bit late, but given it takes something like six generations to actually build the thing, and that most of the existing castles of Westros had weirwoods at this time, I imagine that a "godswood" might have become a prestige element, especially for what was built more as a pleasure palace than as an actual fort.
 
Sansa III (Family Arguments)
Content Warnings: None

We begin with Sansa and Jeyne Poole talking about why Ned didn't send Ser Loras after the Mountain. Sansa thinks that the pain Ned is suffering from his leg has made him angry, which is why he didn't send Loras. Internally, she thinks that it's silly not to have sent Loras - because that's the perfect story, isn't it? The hero slays the monster. It had upset her enough she'd said so to Septa Mordane as they'd left the hall, only to be overheard by Littlefinger. Septa Mordane tried to demur, mortified by Sansa being overheard criticising her father, but Petyr had insisted she explain what she meant. Sansa had told her about her logic around monsters and heroes, and Petyr replied that "Life is not a song, sweetling. You may learn that one day to your sorrow" before leaving.

Back in the present, Jeyne says that Ned should have sent Ser Illyn Payne, but Sansa replies that he's almost like a second monster. Conversation turns to Ser Beric Dondarrion, who Jeyne has a crush on, but Sansa thinks is far too old - twenty-two! - and too high-ranking for a steward's daughter anyhow. She doesn't say so, though, and changes the subject to a 'dream' (a wish, really, but she thinks it sounds better to call it a dream; everyone knew dreams were prophetic) that Joffrey would hunt and bring the white hart supposedly seen in the forest. She thinks that in her heart, she knows Joffrey is more worthy than his drunken father - though at the same time, she's clearly struggling with rationalizing Joffrey's obvious liking for killing. "Only animals, though."

Jeyne brings up that she saw Arya walking through the stables on her hands, and asks why she would do that. Sansa says she doesn't know, and asks if Jeyne wanted to hear about the court or not. Jeyne says yes, and Sansa quickly relates that an 'old and smelly' Night's Watchman came to ask for more recruits for the Watch. Ned asked if any knights would do honor to their houses by taking the black, and when none did, said Yoren could have his pick of the dungeons. After that, two freeriders from Dorne came to pledge their swords to the king, and Ned accepted them-

Jeyne interrupts, asking if there are any lemon cakes. Sansa gives up on telling the story of the court, and they go in search of lemon cakes. They don't find any, but do get some pie, and go to sleep feeling almost as wicked as Arya.

The next morning, Sansa wakes up early to watch Beric and his men ride out of the city. Sansa thinks of it as a song comes to life, and is proud of the men from Winterfell, particularly Alyn, and how splendid they look. Afterwards, she goes back to the Tower of the Hand and finds it strangely empty, to the point that she's even happy to see Arya when she meets her at breakfast. Arya asks where everyone has gone, and Sansa explains that Lord Beric has gone to behead Gregor Clegane, before asking Septa Mordane whether that head will be spiked on Lord Beric's own gate, or the king's - she and Jeyne had been arguing about that. Septa Mordane is, preductable, scandalized (she says Sansa has been 'near as bad as your sister' of late which, ouch, not going to endear Arya to you), and Arya asks for the details of what Gregor had done. Sansa says that he burned down a holdfast and murdered many people, to which Arya replies that Jaime Lannister murdered Jory, Heward and Wyl, and the Hound murdered Mycah - so they should be beheaded as well.

Sansa starts explaining that it's different; the Hound is Joffrey's sworn shield and Mycah attacked Joffrey - where Arya calls her a liar. Sansa airily says that when she's queen, Arya will have to call her 'your grace'. Arya replies by throwing an orange at her face, and Sansa screams back that she's horrible, and they should have killed Arya instead of Lady. Septa Mordane gets to her feet and sends both of them to their rooms; Sansa protests that's not fair, but Mordane holds first, and Sansa leaves the room, holding herself together until she gets back to her room. She pulls off her stained dress and throws it into the fire, screaming that she hates Arya, then starts sobbing when she realizes her underskirt is stained too. She pulls off the rest of her clothes, and goes back to bed.

By midday, Septa Mordane knocks on the door and calls Sansa to come speak to her father. Still sleepy, Sansa thinks that Lady is there in the room with her, before the last remnants of the dream fade away - though honestly, the way it's described, it does feel like a little more than an ordinary dream. Mordane knocks again, and Sansa asks for a little time to dress, before going to meet her father in his solar, where he's studying a huge, leather-bound book. He tells Sansa to sit beside him, while Septa Mordane brings in Arya, squirming and still wearing her leathers and roughspun. Ned thanks Mordane, then sends her away to speak with his daughters alone.

Sansa gets the first word in, saying Arya started it, called her a liar and spoiled her silks. She says that Arya hates she's going to marry the prince, and tries to spoil everything; she can't stand for anything to be beautiful or nice or splendid. Ned cuts her off impatiently, and Arya apologises, saying she was wrong and she begs her 'sweet sister's' forgiveness (again, we see that phrase being used insincerely). Sansa is so shocked she's speechless for a moment, before asking what about her dress. Arya says she could wash it. Sansa says that wouldn't do any good, and Arya offers to make her a new one. Sansa replies that she couldn't make a dress fit for the pigsties - but Ned interrupts again, saying he didn't bring them here to speak of dresses. He's sending them both back to Winterfell.

For once, both of the girls are on the same page, begging Ned not to. Sansa protests that she didn't do anything wrong, and she doesn't want to go back. She thinks of how magical the tournament, the court, all of it was - and says Arya should be sent away, because she started it. Ned says that he's not doing this because they fought - he's sending them away for their own safety. A little of his bitterness about Robert comes out here: "Three of my men were cut down like dogs not a league from where we sit, and what does Robert do? He goes hunting."
Arya takes this a little better, and asks if they can take Syrio back with them. Sansa snaps that who cares about a stupid dancing master; she can't go away, she's engaged to Prince Joffrey. She waxes lyrical about how she loves him, how she wants to be queen and have Joffrey's babies. Ned tries to appease her, saying that when she's old enough he'll make her a match with a worthy high lord - but Joffrey is no Prince Aemon to her Queen Naerys. Sansa insists that he is - they'll be ever so happy, and they'll have a golden-haired son, and he'll be the greatest king there ever was: "As brave as the wolf and as proud as the lion." Arya says that won't happen if Joffrey's the father; he's a liar and a craven, and a stag not a lion. Sansa angrily and teafull protests that he's not - he's not the least bit like that old drunken king.

Ned gives her a strange look, and swears. "Out of the mouth of babes." He calls for Septa Mordane and tells the girls he'll find them a ship to go home as soon as he can - with Syrio Forel, if he agrees to enter Ned's service. But he warns them to say nothing of this, and that it's better if no-one knows their plans. Septa Mordane marches the girls away as Sansa cries, feeling like her life's over before it begins. Septa Mordane scolds her to stop crying, saying that she's sure Ned knows best, and Arya promises that sailing on a galley will be an adventure, and soon they'll be able to see Bran, Robb, Old Nan, Hodor and all the rest.

"Hodor!" Sansa screams. "You ought to marry Hodor, you're just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!" She pulled away, storms into her room, and bars the door.

One thing I want to note before I close out this chapter is that this chapter really emphasizes the way in which Sansa's worldview seems to be... Aesthetically-driven, for lack of a better word. She thinks of things in terms of how they look, and how they correspond to stories, rather than their actual reality - which unfortunately is, as Petyr says, going to lead her to some bad places. On the other hand, it's also a kind of manifestation of a wish for things to be better than they are. At the same time, Ned seems unable to really empathize with or explain to Sansa why he does what he does, and the reasons for his decisions; especially after Ned killed Lady, and has paid a lot of attention to Arya while ignoring Sansa, she's bound to feel rejected - and that is going to have tragic consequences.

Next chapter is Eddard XII, in which Ned makes probably his biggest blunder - for all the right reasons.
 
Interesting thought what would have happened had Ned send Loras and Illyn Payne along with Beric. Would they have joined the Brotherhood?
 
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