represents a kind of idealized past for Dany; a time before she and her brother lost their riches and had to flee as gloried beggars through the Free Cities.
It is worth noting that, much later on, we find out that the good Magister was once a notable bravo, a swordsman, and some vestige of this practice might survive (Dany notes that he moves surprisingly delicately), but it seems that Illyrio's let himself got a bit since then. There's also some deployment of similar tropes around effeminacy to those with - Illyrio is, or has become, a man of money and finery rather than action; he extols the charms of a thirteen-year-old girl to her brother (to his scant credit, Viserys evidently doesn't find Dany attractive, and questions whether Khal Drogo would be interested in someone so young), and he uses florid, flowery language and oily obsequiousness that comes across as hilariously sinister to the reader, precisely because of the prevalence of tropes like this.
In a more interesting story, you might have seen some commentary on the idea of Illyrio's transformation being something culturally driven, rather than a sign of some ineffable spiritual degeneration.
After all, numerous cultures have treated being consistently fat as a sign of wealth and success (the idea generally being that you haven't had to cannibalize fat reserves to get through a lean year any time recently), so Illyrio could have let himself go as a deliberate ploy to signal his willingness to play ball with the existing nobility and comport himself in accordance with their customs, rather than those of the rough-and-tumble bravos.
The effusive praise and obsequiousness likewise could be a habit picked up to fit in better among the aristocracy, especially if they handle matters of face and perceived disrespect differently than the bravos do - or just a practical measure to handle Viserys specifically, given how volatile he can be.
Likewise, the treatment of finery as 'unmanly' is very modern, in a way that feels less like a creative choice than it does a kind of mental default setting. The idea of literally wearing one's power on one's person through grandiose jewelry, fine fabrics, and other hard-to-acquire things is practically primeval. Even the mention of him being excessively oiled feels a bit odd to me, given how the use of perfume, cologne, scented soap, and other measures to not smell like ass were definitely big features of premodern European nobility.
(One method of achieving this that I remember is even a fairly direct example of feudal privilege: having servants slip freshly-picked flowers into the lord's clothing as they're folded and put away to give them a pleasant scent, which then creates a constant treadmill of inspecting the clothes already washed, but not yet worn, and replacing the flowers as they wilt and lose their fragrance. The ability to have a sizable group of people spend their lives carrying out this kind of trivial, thankless labor was one of the things which set noblemen apart from the merely wealthy.)
It is interesting to think about how this situation might have come about, in the sense that given later information Sansa doesn't seem to like Arya all that much and I kinda wonder what happened between them in the past. I don't recall much information on their earlier relationship.
Seems pretty natural sibling resentment to me. Sansa is probably often being told by her parents to bring Arya along and include her and this makes her uncool in front of her friends and is also annoying work because Arya is uncooperative.
The effusive praise and obsequiousness likewise could be a habit picked up to fit in better among the aristocracy, especially if they handle matters of face and perceived disrespect differently than the bravos do - or just a practical measure to handle Viserys specifically, given how volatile he can be.
I suspect the latter is what's going on to be honest - Viserys responds well to praise and flattery, and IIRC when we meet Illyrio in different company much later on (when he meets Tryion IIRC) he's somewhat more straightforward and less florid.
Likewise, the treatment of finery as 'unmanly' is very modern, in a way that feels less like a creative choice than it does a kind of mental default setting.
It might be this, but I think it might also be another example of taking influences from Conan the Barbarian and similar - Robert E. Howard drew very similar lines between the rough clothing and muscular bodies of 'barbarians' and fine clothing and softer bodies of 'civilized' or 'decadent' people. Though Martin doesn't draw quite so hard a line, by allowing the Dothraki to ornament themselves with oil in their moustaches, bells in their hair etc.
From Sansa's first chapter later in the book, but not really spoiling anything:
Sansa I said:
Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody.
Content Warning: Incest, sex viewed from a child's PoV, severe harm to a child
Okay, I wasn't able to put this up yesterday due to packing for moving where I'm staying, but I'm back home now, so here we go.
We begin with Bran Stark reflecting that basically everyone - he notes his father, Robb, Benjen, Theon, Ser Rodrik the master-at-arms, Tyrion, the King and Prince Joffrey - have all ridden out on the last hunt of the royal visit to Winterfell, because the following day the king's party goes south. Bran's been left behind with his sisters, baby Rickon, and Jon Snow - but he doesn't want to hang out with girls, Rickon's a baby and Jon seems to be angry at everyone, which Bran doesn't understand because he thinks going to the Wall is cool as hell; almost as much as going south with the king, as Bran is eagerly anticipating (in no small part because he wants to explore the Red Keep, a castle with lots of interesting stories involved in it). We learn Bran's admiration for the knights of the Kingsguard, and his wish to be one of them - in the same sense a kid wants to be an astronaut.
Still, as he prepares to leave Winterfell, Bran feels lost and uncertain; dislocated from his childhood and the companions of that childhood - his pony (being replaced by a real horse), the people he knows in the castle and so on. He tried to say goodbye, starting with his pony, but got overwhelmed and ended up spending the morning trying to teach his as-yet unnamed wolf pup to play fetch (the pup isn't very interested).
In the end, Bran decides to go climbing; something he's good at, and has plenty of practice with. He heads to the edge of the Godswood (skirting around the Weirwood, as it scares him), his pup following him, and starts climbing a tall sentinel pine. The pup starts howling after him, but Bran tells him to be quiet; the pup doesn't, until Bran climbs off the tree onto a roof, and out of sight.
We get a look into Bran's past here; he's made a game of climbing and exploring Winterfell for longer than he can remember, and we get an image of Winterfell itself:
To a boy, Winterfell was a grey stone labyrinth of walls and towers and courtyards and tunnels spreading out in all directions. In the older parts of the castle, the halls slanted up and down so that you couldn't even be sure what floor you were on. The place had grown over the centuries like some monstrous stone tree, Maester Luwin told him once, and its branches were gnarled and thick and twisted, its roots sunk deep into the earth.
Bran likes it up on the roofs, looking down on everything. It makes him feel special and powerful - that, and knowing its secrets and weird little quirks.
We get some foreshadowing, in that Catelyn has always been afraid that Bran's climbing would be the death of him - but Bran seems almost compelled to do it. We get another little bit of foreshadowing in that Bran seems to have an affinity for crows - he brings corn to the ones he finds up on the castle's turrets and battlements.
The next few paragraphs are descriptions of Bran's favourite routes throughout the high places of the castle, ending up at the First Keep; "a squat round fortress that was taller than it looked", inhabited only by rats and spiders - where Bran is so shocked to hear voices inside that he almost loses his grip.
There are two voices; a man's and a womans, which seem to be discussing whether the man should be Hand of the King - the woman encouraging, the man saying it would be too much work. The woman says that Ned's appointment puts them in danger due to the love the king has for him. The man soon becomes bored with the conversation, and says something flirtatious, but the woman keeps on her point, believing that Ned is coming south to act against them (an interesting case of projection, honestly), though the man lists plenty of other reasons. The two discuss Lysa Arryn's accusations and her flight from King's Landing, and the man makes some casually misogynistic comments about 'birthing doing something to a mother's mind', and says that Lysa has no proof. The woman says the king might not require it, as he doesn't love her. The man retorts: "And whose fault is that, sweet sister?"1
Meanwhile, Bran is getting nervous; he knows this isn't the kind of thing he's meant to listen to, and he's in a position where it'll be very hard to move or get away without being noticed.
The man in the room says that Ned would never betray his king. The woman retorts that what about Joffrey? And she's worried that the king is still too attached to the memory of Lyanna Stark, and might put her aside. The man says she should think less about the future and more about the present, while Bran decides to get a closer look, so he can see who's talking so he can tell his brothers. He swings himself down by a gargoyle, and sees that both man and woman are naked and 'wrestling', kissing and 'hurting each other'. As they move and the man grasps the woman's hair, Bran sees her face and recognizes the queen.
As I'm sure we've all guessed by this point, the two people inside are Cersei Lannister and her twin brother, Jaime.
Bran is so shocked that he slips; there's a moment of falling, before he just barely manages to catch himself on the window ledge. Cersei is horrified they've been seen, while Jaime is calmer. Bran struggles for a handhold, and Jaime grabs him and pulls him up onto the sill. Jaime asks him how old he is. Bran, thinking he's saved, says he's seven, and released Jaime's arm after realizing he'd clawed into it as he was pulled up.
"The things I do for love," Jaime says, and shoves Bran out of the tower. Bran falls, crows circling above him.
So, this is a pretty functional chapter: It gives us information (the Lannisters are worried about Ned Stark coming south, they're fucking which is a big no-no, we get a look at the royal marriage from the queen's point of view), it sets up Bran's arc throughout the story of going into magic as a way to escape the injuries inflicted on him here, and it acts to establish the character of Jaime and Cersei Lannister - it's pretty much a textbook kick-the-dog moment to establish their villainy, between the incest and throwing a child out of a window to die. It's also got an example of 'male effeminacy as bad', in that Bran sees the two as mirrors of one another with Jaime's long hair, but frankly that's almost expected at this point.
Next chapter, Tyrion I, where we get another - somewhat more sympathetic - Lannister perspective.
1: This is one of the little turns of phrase that Martin likes to re-use a lot, and I always find it interesting because it's almost invariably used in a sarcastic or edged fashion; basically no-one actually means it when they say 'sweet [sibling]'.
I don't know if I have a whole lot to say about this chapter - but as a character introduction and arc starter its one of the better ones we've had so far. It also goes a hell of a lot to establishing some facts about Cersei's insecurities, along with Jaime's disregard for some of the other characters, so its a chapter pulling double and triple duty and it actually does that well.
Though in terms of character focus I'd say its most focused on Bran and Cersei - Jaime is just a catalyst.
Okay, we're going to have to keep track of a lot of characters, so I've decided to start this post to help with that. I'll be adding to it as this let's read gets longer and we encounter more characters.
House Stark said:
Main Family Lord Eddard 'Ned' Stark
Head of House Stark, and de-facto ruler of the North. Friend and foster-brother to King Robert Baratheon.
Lady Catelyn Stark, nee Tully
Lady of Winterfell. Wife to Eddard Stark, mother of Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon.
Jon Snow
Presumed bastard son of Eddard Stark. Mother unknown. Looks very 'Stark'. Bonded to the direwolf Ghost.
Robb Stark
Eldest legitimate son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, and heir to Winterfell. Has his mother's looks. Bonded to the direwolf Grey Wind.
Sansa Stark
Eldest legitimate daughter of Eddard and Catelyn Stark. Has her mother's looks. Bonded to the direwolf Lady.
Arya Stark
Second legitimate daughter of Eddard and Catelyn Stark. Has her father's looks. Bonded to the direwolf Nymeria.
Bran Stark
Second legitimate son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark. Takes after his mother. Bonded to the direwolf Summer (yet to be named).
Rickon Stark
Third legitimate son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark. A toddler. Bonded to the direwolf Shaggydog.
Benjen Stark
Eddard's little brother; First Ranger of the Night's Watch.
Household Ser Rodrik Cassel
House Stark's master-at-arms.
Deceased Lyanna Stark
Daughter and second-youngest child of Rickard Stark. Formerly betrothed to Robert Baratheon. Her (presumed) kidnap by Rhaegar Targaryen set off Robert's Rebellion. Died after childbirth.
Brandon Stark
Eldest son of Rickard Stark and former heir to Wintefell, betrothed to Catelyn Tully. Died at the hands of Aerys II 'the Mad' Targaryen.
Rickard Stark
Former Lord Stark; father to Lyanna, Brandon and Eddard. Died at the hands of Aerys II 'the Mad' Targaryen.
Main Family King Robert Baratheon
Current king of the Seven Kingdoms. Married to Cersei. Formerly betrothed to Lyanna Stark. Still holds a torch for her.
Queen Cersei Baratheon, nee Lannister
Queen of the Seven Kingsoms, married to Robert Baratheon. Daughter of Tywin Lannister, twin sister to Jaime Lannister.
Prince Joffrey Baratheon
Legally the eldest son of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister. Heir to the Iron Throne. Absolute brat.
Princess Myrcella Baratheon
Legally the eldest daughter of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister. Prince Tommen Baratheon
Legally the second son of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister.
Household Sandor 'the Hound' Clegane
A famously powerful knight, bodyguard to Joffrey Baratheon. Very cynical. Has half his face scarred by fire. Younger brother to the infamous Ser Gregor Clegane.
Main Family Lady Lysa Arryn, nee Tully
Lady of the Eyrie and nominal ruler of the Vale of Arryn. Widow of Lord Jon Arryn, sister to Catelyn Stark.
Lord Robert 'Sweetrobin' Arryn
Eldest and only son of Lysa and Jon Arryn. Sickly and nervous. Named for Robert Baratheon.
Deceased Lord Jon Arryn
Formerly lord of the Eyrie and ruler of the Vale of Arryn. Husband to Lysa Arryn, father to Robert Arryn, formerly foster-father to Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon.
Main Family Jaime 'Kingslayer' Lannister
Cersei's twin brother, eldest son of Tywin Lannister. Would be heir to House Lannister, but is a Kingsguard, and thus sworn to celibacy and no inheritance.
Tyrion Lannister
Younger son of Tywin Lannister, and younger brother to Cersei and Jaime. Clever, but was born with dwarfism, and as a result is stigmatized.
Main Family Daenerys Targaryen
Eldest daughter of Aerys II and Rhaella Targaryen.
Viserys Targaryen
Second son of Aerys II and Rhaella Targaryen.
Deceased King Aerys II 'the Mad' Targaryen
Formerly King of the Seven Kingdoms. Desposed by a coalition of Houses Stark, Baratheon, Tully and Arryn, and later Lannister, and killed by Jaime Lannister.
Queen Rhaella Targaryen
Formerly Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and wife and sister to Aerys II. Died during childbirth when giving birth to Daenerys.
Prince Rhaegar Targaryen
Eldest son of Aerys II and Rhaella Targaryen, and former heir to the Iron Throne. Provoked Robert's Rebellion by purportedly kidnapping Lyanna Stark.
Elia Targaryen, nee Martell
Eldest daughter of an unnamed Prince and Princess of Dorne; sister to Prince Doran and Oberyn Martell; wife to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen; mother of Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen. Killed in the Red Keep during the sack of King's Landing by Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch.
Rhaenys Targaryen
Eldest child and daughter of Rhaegar and Elia Targaryen. Killed in the Red Keep during the sack of King's Landing by Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch.
Aegon Targaryen
Eldest son of Rhaegar and Elia Targaryen. Killed in the Red Keep during the sack of King's Landing by Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch.
Main Family Theon Greyjoy
Third son and eldest surviving son of Balon Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke. Held as hostage by and raised as foster-son to Eddard Stark.
Magister Illyrio Mopatis
A wealthy merchant and political figure in the Free City of Pentos. Facilitating Daenerys' wedding to Khal Drogo.
Deceased Ser Waymar Royce
Third and youngest son of Lord Yohn 'Bronze' Royce. Served briefly at the Wall as a Ranger, before being slain by Others.
Will the Poacher
A poacher who served as a Ranger at the Wall, before being slain by the wight of Ser Waymar Royce.
Gared
A man of unknown history who served for a long period at the Wall, before deserting after encountering Others. Executed for desertion by Lord Eddard Stark.
We open on Tyrion waking from an awkward sleep in the Winterfell library, to the sound of a wolf howling. He's disturbed by the sound, but rouses himself and wakes up the young Septon Chayle (of Winterfell's sept), asking him to put away the books and scrolls they'd been reading, and commenting on a number of rare texts (including Valyrian scrolls, plural) in the Winterfell library.
Descending from the library, Tyrion emerges out into the courtyard, where he finds Joffrey and Sandor Clegane - complaining about how long it's taking Bran to die, and how noisy his wolf is. Sandor idly suggests that he might silence it, which Joffrey is delighted by, saying that Winterfell is so infested with wolves the Starks would never miss one.
Tyrion breaks into the conversation, nixing the idea and insulting Joffrey in the same breath. Sandor lightly mocks Tyrion about his dwarfism, which Trion takes in stride, before telling Joffrey he needs to go to offer the Starks his condolences and comfort. Joffrey prostests that it won't do any good, and that he "cannot abide the wailing of women" - at which Tyrion says his lack of presence has been noted, and slaps Joffrey. Joffrey protests, and Trion slaps him again, before reinforcing that he needs to go and talk to the Starks and say how sorry he is their son is hurt, that he's at their service and so on. Joffrey nods, on the verge of tears, and flees the courtyard. Sandor comments that Joffrey will remember that, and Tyrion says that if he forgets, the Hound should remind him, before asking where Jaime is.
Tyrion finds his brother, along with Cersei, Tommen and Myrcella, eating a "cold, cheerless meal" in Winterfell's guest house. Tyrion asks whether Robert is still asleep, and Cersei says that he has not slept at all, staying up with Eddard. Jaime comments that Robert has a big heart, sardonically - but we also get a look into a more human side of Jaime, as from Tyrion's perspective he was the only one who showed Tyrion care or respect.
Tyrion orders food from a servant, and internally notes how similar his siblings look, before Prince Tommen asks him how Bran is doing. Tyrion says that there have been no particualr changes - but that the Maester considers this a hopeful sign, as it's been several days without a negative change. When he says that Bran may yet live, Jaime and Cersei glance at one another - something Tyrion was watching for - before Cersei comments that it's unmerciful of the northern gods to let a child linger in such pain. Myrcella asks whether Bran will get better, and Tyrion explains that he might wake up, but that his back and legs were broken; if Bran wakes, he won't walk again. He also notes the curious connection which seems to be at work between Bran and his wolf; Bran worsened when they closed the window to shut out the noise, but when they opened it again he improved a little.
Cersei seems disturbed by this, and comments that the direwolves are 'unnatural'. She's disquieted by a suggestion of the supernatural, it would seem, and doesn't want the Starks to bring their direwolves south.
Tyrion chooses this moment to reveal that he plans to head north to the Wall with Jon and Benjen, rather than immediately going south with the rest of the king's party. Some crass language on Tyrion's part makes Cersei take Tommen and Myrcella away, leaving Jaime and Tyrion alone together.
Jaime comments that Eddard will never leave Winterfell with his son on the verge of death. Tyrion disagrees, saying that there's nothing Ned can do for Bran, that Ned will go if the king commands it, and the king will command it (which seems a little at odds with the previous point that Robert and Eddard have been sitting up together over the issue of Bran, but whatever). Jaime says that, were Bran his son, he would put him out of his misery. Tyrion advises his 'sweet brother' not to mention that idea to Eddard. Jaime counters that by saying that even if Bran lives he will be a "cripple" and a "grotesque", and says he would prefer a clean death.
Tyrion replied with a shrug that accentuated the twist of his shoulders. "Speaking for the grotesques," he said, "I beg to differ. Death is so terribly final, while life is full of possibilities."
Finally, Tyrion says that he would be very interested to hear what Bran says to say when he wakes up; heavily implying (at least to the readers) that he knows something about what happened with Bran in the First Keep - though given who Tyrion is, he might just be going off their reactions to him asking about it.
Speaking of which, Jaime darkly says he wonders sometimes which side Tyrion is on, to which Tyrion replies:
"Why, Jaime, my sweet brother," he said, "you wound me. You know how much I love my family."
Which is a delightfully ambiguous little statement, given that we know Tyrion both has a close connection to Jaime, and doesn't really seem to like the rest of his family. It also becomes more important later on, but we'll come back to that in time.
So, this was a pretty short chapter to go over; mostly establishing the family dynamics of the Lannisters, some of their various issues, and once again hammering home that Joffrey is a little shit. We get a more human side of Jaime, a further reinforcement of Tyrion's curious nature, and a look at how the castle is reacting in the aftermath of Bran's fall.
Next time we have Jon II, with his goodbye to Winterfell and Arya (an adorable scene I've been looking forward to for some time).
Jaime comments that Eddard will never leave Winterfell with his son on the verge of death. Tyrion disagrees, saying that there's nothing Ned can do for Bran, that Ned will go if the king commands it, and the king will command it (which seems a little at odds with the previous point that Robert and Eddard have been sitting up together over the issue of Bran, but whatever).
I could interpret that as a matter of cultural customs? Robert stays up with Ned and the boy, he takes part in the grieving, but he doesn't expect to have this stretch on indefinitely, or even until Bran is well again, given how long that could take.
Perhaps a bit like a family member who lives a few days away, but happens to visit when a tragedy occurs? He'll obviously stay and mourn with his kin, but eventually he'll be caught between that and the reality that he has a life to live, and which he had planned to get back to some time ago when he originally set out for this visit.
Building on what Briar is positing, I could also potentially see Robert thinking to himself "I need to get Ned out of this cold, thankless, grieving place and to somewhere better". Which is definitely underlaid by selfish and/or blinkered perspective on his friend, but a chain of logic can be constructed there I think.
Another look at it could be commentary on the cynical nature of the kingship, with Tyrion being acutely aware of those cynical pressures on Robert.
We begin the chapter with Jon climbing the stairs to Bran's sickroom, and trying not to think about the finality of doing this for the last time. Ghost is with him, giving him a little comfort and courage - which he needs, as when he enters the room he finds Lady Catelyn there as well as Bran. Catelyn hasn't left Bran's bedside since he fell, and the tension between him and her has kept Jon away, but now he needs to say goodbye.
Catelyn asks why he's here. Jon says he came to say goodbye. Catelyn says he's said it; now to go away. Jon's tempted to, to escape, but he's not willing to let this possibly-last chance go. Catelyn insists, but Jon stays firm - the solidification of his place in life, as a soon-to-be brother of the Night's Watch, has given him some confidence. He says Bran is his brother, and Catelyn half-seriously threatens to call the guards, but Jon crosses the room nonetheless.
At Bran's bedside, Jon finds him changed; emaciated from little nourishment, and with his legs broken badly underneath the blanket. His eyes are open, but unseeing. Interestingly, this passage consistently describes Bran in terms of trees or their components: bones like sticks, leaf-like in that a strong wind would seem to blow him away. Foreshadowing, we could say. Tears start to roll down Jon's cheeks, as he apologises for not coming before, and begs Bran not to die; for his own sake, for the sake of Robb, Arya, Sansa and everyone else. Catelyn watches him, but doesn't call the guards. Jon pulls himself together a little, and says he needs to go, to travel with the Night's Watch party before the snows come. He remembers how much Bran wanted to travel, and kisses him goodbye, before Catelyn speaking up halts him.
She confesses that she wanted Bran to stay with her, and had prayed to the Seven for that to happen. She feels horriffically guilty, that her prayers might have been granted in this awful way - but when Jon tries to offer comfort and say it wasn't her fault, she throws it back in his face: "I need none of your absolution, bastard." Jon lowers his eyes, squeezes Bran's hand one last time and says goodbye. It's when he's at the door that Catelyn says his name, for the first time - before saying "It should have been you", and breaking down in tears; the first time Jon's ever seen her do that, either.
Down in the courtyard, the castle is full of the chaos and activity of people getting ready to leave. Jon finds Robb there, seemingly matured over the last weeks, as he's taken on more responsibility in Winterfell. Robb tells Jon that their uncle has been looking for him, wanting to be gone an hour ago, but Jon says he's finding leaving hard. Robb understands, and asks if Jon saw Bran. Jon nods, and Robb assures him Bran won't die. Jon says "You Starks are hard to kill", and Robb senses that something happened between him and Catelyn. Jon denies this, saying she was kind. Robb's glad, and they say their goodbyes, joking about meeting again when Jon's all in black, and promising he hasn't seen Jon if Benjen comes asking: Jon has one more goodbye to make.
Jon finds Arya in her room, packing with the (rather able, actually) help of her wolf Nymeria. When Arya sees it's Jon, she runs over to hug him, saying she was afraid he'd left already, and that she hadn't been allowed out to say goodbye, because she hadn't packed her things folded properly. Jon says he has something more for her to pack, and Arya lights up at the prospect of a present - especially one Jon is being secretive about. Once the door is closed, Jon reveals what he's got her: A thin, narrow sword Jon had the Winterfell blacksmith Mikken make, after the style of Braavosi or Pentosi bravos - it's a thrusting sword, which from the description seems to be styled after a 'small sword' or 'épeé de cour'; a sword more associated with the mid-late Renaissance or Enlightenment periods, than the high or late middle ages GRRM seems to like to try and emulate. That said, the Free Cities seem to be a century or so 'ahead' of Westeros by the standards of our world, so I won't harp on this too much.
In any case, Jon has evidently put a fair amount of thought into this gift, as he checks with Arya about its balance, and tells her she'll have to work hard every day to be able to use it well. Then we get a few rather cute moments. Jon says the "First lesson" is to "Stick them with the pointy end." Arya slaps him for that, but Jon grins over it. Arya says Septa Mordane will take it away, but Jon says she can't if she doesn't know Arya has it. Arya asks who she'll be able to practice with, and Jon says she'll be able to find someone, as King's Landing is so much bigger than Winterfell.
"[...] Until you find a partner, watch how they fight in the yard. Run, and ride, make yourself strong. And whatever you do …"
Arya knew what was coming next. They said it together.
"… don't … tell … Sansa!"
Jon messed up her hair. "I will miss you, little sister."
This makes Arya tear up, and say she wishes Jon was coming with her. Jon says that maybe they'll meet again - but that he'd better go, as he doesn't want to "spend [his] first year on the Wall emptying chamber pots" if he keeps Benjen waiting. Arya runs to hug him once more, Jon tells her to keep the sword hidden, and she does so. Just as he's leaving, he stops and turns to see her holding the sword again and trying its balance.
"I almost forgot," he told her. "All the best swords have names."
"Like Ice," she said. She looked at the blade in her hand. "Does this have a name? Oh, tell me."
"Can't you guess?" Jon teased. "Your very favorite thing."
Arya seemed puzzled at first. Then it came to her. She was that quick. They said it together:
"Needle!"
The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north.
I like this chapter a lot. It shows us a very human side of several of our core characters; for good (Jon, Robb, Arya) and for ill (Catelyn). I think that people judge Catelyn very harshly based on this chapter, with how cruel she is to Jon - and she is that, both now and in her general cold treatment of him throughout his upbringing, due to her fears of him or his descendants harming her children. However, it's worth pointing out that Catelyn here is at rock bottom; sitting by the bedside of a son she feels she at least failed by not stopping him climbing (nevermind that she probably never could have, and did everything she reasonably could), and possibly caused to be crippled and on death's door. I don't like to judge characters on what they do at their worst and most distressed moments, and that's very much what Catelyn is here.
Next chapter is... Not nearly so pleasant. Daenerys II, and her marriage to Khal Drogo. Pray for me. Pray for us all.
This scene I think is one of the most reinterpreted in the entire fandom, by that Jon's desperate hope for his brother to live for the sake of everyone, Cat running on fumes clearly unhealthy watching her child waste away turn into all about Jon feeling betrayed by his step mother figure.
This scene I think is one of the most reinterpreted in the entire fandom, by that Jon's desperate hope for his brother to live for the sake of everyone, Cat running on fumes clearly unhealthy watching her child waste away turn into all about Jon feeling betrayed by his step mother figure.
And yeah; this is a really nasty, emotionally fraught scene, and it's easy to judge Catelyn badly because of it. Her next chapter does a lot to get into her head and just how unhealthy/out of it she is at this point.
It's also notable as one of relatively few scenes where a Westerosi noble character is clearly motivated by their religious leanings, in that Catelyn very clearly believes her prayers might have been (horribly) efficacious.
It's also notable as one of relatively few scenes where a Westerosi noble character is clearly motivated by their religious leanings, in that Catelyn very clearly believes her prayers might have been (horribly) efficacious.
He gets better at it over time, but it is one of his issues that especially in the early books it only really tended to be 'barbarians' who seemed to actually believe in their religions.
He gets better at it over time, but it is one of his issues that especially in the early books it only really tended to be 'barbarians' who seemed to actually believe in their religions.
Content Warnings: Death, rape, underage sex, underage marriage, misogyny, orientalism, slavery, references to sexual slavery
Okay. Here we go. Content warnings are there for a reason.
Daenerys Targaryen wed Khal Drogo with fear and barbaric splendor in a field beyond the walls of Pentos, for the Dothraki believed that all things of importance in a man's life must be done beneath the open sky.
So, there's a lot to unpack already here. Firstly, we see again very explicitly how unwilling Dany is about this - she weds Khal Drogo 'with fear'. Second, we see a return of that theme I brought up before with regards to a comparison between the Faith of the Seven and the religion of the Old Gods, where a closeness to nature and 'primal' elements of life (birth, death, sex, violence) tends to be comorbid with sincere, rather than cynical performance. Thirdly, 'barbaric splendour'. Some of that Conan influence peeking through, definitely, and the Dothraki both embody and have kind of become the popular archetype of the 'barbarian horde'. That said, this section at least is somewhat debatable with regards to whether the 'barbarian' judgement is Dany's voice at work (you can't really blame a sheltered 13-year-old who's being sold as a child bride for judging the culture she's being married into pretty harshly), or more of a third-person judgement.
Getting back to the actual plot, though, after that introduction we get a minor flash-back to a meal at Drogo's manse (donated to Daenerys and Viserys until the wedding), where conversation goes back and forth between Illyrio, Viserys and Ser Jorah Mormont (who had been mentioned in one of Ned's chapters as having been a Westerosi lord who sold poachers into slavery, and subsequently fled ahead of the headsman), while Dany watches and stays quiet. The three men talk about the nervousness of the city at the presence of Drogo's forces outside it, while Illyrio continues working to massage Viserys' ego and anxieties, assuring him that he will get his army - even if he has to wait for the Dothraki to consult the right omens and do things in their own time, rather than leaping to obey him. Viserys is obviously insecure about his position in life, and covers this with bluster and declarations of his royal or 'draconic' identity. Dany thinkgs (and doesn't say) that there aren't any real dragons anymore - but has a dream that night of her brother abusing her, before flames spring up all around, and Viserys is replaced by a real dragon. Dany wakes when the dragon's eyes meet hers, and she says she's never been so afraid...
Until her wedding. We get a rather sumptuous description of the event:
The ceremony began at dawn and continued until dusk, an endless day of drinking and feasting and fighting. A mighty earthen ramp had been raised amid the grass palaces, and there Dany was seated beside Khal Drogo, above the seething sea of Dothraki. She had never seen so many people in one place, nor people so strange and frightening. The horselords might put on rich fabrics and sweet perfumes when they visited the Free Cities, but out under the open sky they kept the old ways. Men and women alike wore painted leather vests over bare chests and horsehair leggings cinched by bronze medallion belts, and the warriors greased their long braids with fat from the rendering pits. They gorged themselves on horseflesh roasted with honey and peppers, drank themselves blind on fermented mare's milk and Illyrio's fine wines, and spat jests at each other across the fires, their voices harsh and alien in Dany's ears.
Again, this is ostensibly from Daenerys' point of view, but it's also definitely building up an image in the minds of readers. Dany puts it out there pretty directly: Alien. The Dothraki are meant to be alien to readers in a way that, for all their uncomfortable customs and literal medievalisms, the Westerosi aren't. The word which comes back again is 'barbaric' - and we have the idea of the Dothraki as 'keeping to old ways', in an interesting parallel to the Northerners over in Westeros (despite the fact that the Dothraki as a notable culture didn't arise all that long ago on an absolute scale, especially compared to the abysses of time Martin creates for other cultures; about 400 years ago). This could just be Dany, or more of an idea from Martin leaking through to her perspective.
In any case, Viserys is seated below the bride and bridegroom, and Khal Drogo's close companions ('bloodriders'), and doesn't like it; he feels slighted and insulted by the fact he's not the center of attention. Dany, meanwhile, feels deeply alone (she can't talk to anyone but the Khal, and they don't share a language, and she's terrified of him regardless). She tries to hold herself together with self-affirmations, but she's really only barely holding on - and that's when she sees someone die.
This is another of Martin's shock-value scenes. Dancers are performing in front of the Khal. Several warriors, one after another, get up, grab one or another of the dancing women, and rape them. From context it seems like this is expected, and we get no indications that the women resist, but no consent is asked, so. Yeah.
Dany remembers Illyrio saying that Dothraki "do not understand sin or shame as we do", and comparing them to animals.
Two warriors go for the same woman, fight a duel over her, one dies and the other grabs a different woman and rapes her, while the corpse is carried away. Dany reflects that Illyrio told her about this too:
"A Dothraki wedding without at least three deaths is deemed a dull affair," he had said. Her wedding must have been especially blessed; before the day was over, a dozen men had died.
Time skips forward, as Dany tries to keep herself together, terrified of the Dothraki and not at all undersatnding them. Finally, Khal Drogo calls a halt to the celebrations, and for bride-gifts to be offered. One after another notable figures bring Dany gifts of various kinds. Viserys brings her three enslaved women; Irri (intended to teach Dany riding), Jhiqui (to teach her the Dothraki language) and Doreah (to instruct her in sexual matters); it's unclear what Dany thinks about this. Jorah Mormont offers a stack of books to Dany; histories and stories from Westeros, which she sincerely appreciates. Illyrio brings her a chest with three dragon eggs; supposedly petrified, but very beautiful, and Dany is instaly enthralled by them. Illyrio says they come from the lands beyond Asshai, far to the east, but in actuality they probably correspond with three dragon eggs stolen from the Targaryens by ABSOLUTE GIRLBOSS Elissa Farman, all the way back in 54 AC. We stan a queen.
Anyway, the eggs are rather symbolic here; a gift meant to be valuable and beautiful but ultimately no more than that, which turns out to have hidden potential released by magic and destiny to change the world. They mirror Dany in that sense.
After the eggs, Khal Drogo's bloodriders offer Dany three weapons (a bow, a whip and a curved Dothraki sword, an arakh) in what seems to be some kind of gender-roles-affirming ceremony:
Magister Illyrio and Ser Jorah had taught her the traditional refusals for these offerings. "This is a gift worthy of a great warrior, O blood of my blood, and I am but a woman. Let my lord husband bear these in my stead." And so Khal Drogo too received his "bride gifts."
Dany continues to receive more after this, but none are given a significant attention until Khal Drogo finally offers his: A beautiful, silver-grey filly. Drogo lifts her up to ride and, as she takes off on the horse, Dany feels free for the first time in a long while. It's clearly a nearly-magical experience for her, enough that when she returns to the ceremonial site, she's still excited enough to thank Drogo for his gift, saying (through Illyrio) "You have given me the wind."
The mood comes down quickly, though, as the Khal goes off to saddle his own horse. Viserys grabs Dany's leg painfully, and threatens her if she doesn't 'please' Drogo. Dany feels her age again, and alone, as the two ride out into the plains. Dany repeats "I am the blood of the dragon" to herself, trying to keep her courage up.
Finally, they stop at a grassy place beside a small stream, and I return to spoilers.
I don't really want to discuss this scene in great detail, so I'll suffice to say that Drogo lifts Dany down off her horse, and sits them down facing each other. The only word he knows in the Common Tongue is 'No'. He starts to remove the bells from his hair, and Dany helps him, before he undresses her - gently, but in a way which makes it clear he doesn't want her covering herself. Once she's naked, he doesn't do anything for a short time, then begins touching her - gently, again, but insistently. He clearly knows what he's doing in terms of foreplay, and as the scene ends he asks "No?" as a question. Dany replies "Yes," and brings his hand between her legs.
This scene is, profoundly uncomfortable. I don't think it needed to be written in this level of detail - and honestly, now that I'm reading it over, I can't deny that the way in which this scene is written has, deliberately or otherwise, an element of titillation that feels deeply unpleasant. I remember the first time I read this book, back in my early-mid teens, that it definitely came across that way to me then - though I didn't really realize the dimensions of abuse going on here at the time, and frankly it was about the only R-rated text I could get my hands on at the time.
If I'm being more charitable, and coming at this from the point of view of a more adult self, I could say that this scene is meant to be a condemnation of what it depicts. An indictment of the fake 'consent' Drogo gets, extracted under implicit coercion and the gentle but no less absolute denial of Dany's agency earlier in the scene. A meaningless 'yes'. But in context, I don't think that's the case. Drogo after this point is consistently portrayed as kind and caring towards Dany, and Dany as attached to him. You could call that a case of grooming and Stockholm Syndrome, but as we'll see the book portrays it more as an oddball romance. I think this scene, and the gift of Dany's silver horse, is meant to set up that, as a sign to Drogo's 'soft side'. And I really don't like that.
I've done my best to discuss this in as respectful a manner as I can. If anyone has any recommendations on ways I could edit this to do this better, please tell me.
Next chapter is Eddard II, and as I recall vastly less unpleasant.
This chapter is quite uncomfortable though for Drogo and Dany I'm not entirely sure I would call it a loving relationship or one based on a fragile foundation.
I'v compared Drogo to Robert but there is a bit of Rhaegar in him seeking Dany to create a prophecy child with a couple of question marks present like what if she had a girl, what if he started growing weak as he got older with her being so much younger ect present in the relationship that never get's answered. I think Drago ironically becomes like Lyanna to Dany, filled with potential of what could have been but far more loved when he's a memory.
Though on the chapter itself I think in a way Martin might feel a bit of regret towards, not the sense of it being orientalist but because it's developed a trend that has arguably been a thorn in the Essoi arc ever since. We are introduced to Westeros meeting the men who broke the social contract and our first introduction to Starks is them correcting it making their violence in the norm and justified.
In Essos there is no justification or pretext violence is just the norm without restraint or order and thanks to that a lot part of the Fandom has been ever trying to escape it given they feel no incentive to play with it except breaking it.
After the eggs, Khal Drogo's bloodriders offer Dany three weapons (a bow, a whip and a curved Dothraki sword, an arakh) in what seems to be some kind of gender-roles-affirming ceremony:
It's the kind of ceremony where that sort of thing doesn't really happen - not refusing the weapons would basically break the 'magic circle', the story-logic, of the ceremony, and kind of invalidate it or demand an alternate 'story' be told (you probably could have a more egalitarian Khal, for instance, give the weapons back and claim his own, or have a second set of weapons prepared for his wife). But just accepting the weapons would be a bit like a wedding where the bridegroom decides halfway through he wants to get married without exchanging vows.
That said, I don't want this to just be a 'shit on Martin' thread; I don't want to just accuse him of stuff like that.
