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Episode 30: A GAME OF THRONES, EDDARD VII: "Asking Questions" SHOW NOTES!
🕑 Added 2018-09-10 14:00:59 +0000 UTC Hello and welcome to the Not A Cast … podcast: the one true chapter-by-chapter podcast going through A Song of Ice and Fire one chapter a week. I’m one of your hosts Jeff better known as BryndenBFish.And I’m your other host Emmett, better known as PoorQuentyn.
Welcome to our thirtieth episode of the Not A Cast entitled: “Asking Questions: An Analysis of AGOT, Eddard VII,” in which the Hand’s Tourney comes to a bloody close and the titular Hand has some very revealing conversations with King Robert and Varys the Spider. This episode is brought to you all by our Lords Commander Mark N, Timothy W, Hayden J, WolfmanZack, and Joe L. Thank you, gentlemen!
Spoiler warning: All published books - 5 novels, 3 Dunk and Egg novellas, histories, interviews, TWOW sample chapters, as well as Game of Thrones the TV show. Anything and everything!
Questions
Ser John M, a recent Sworn Sword asks:
This past episode made me more curious especially with your referring to the proof of the “twin-cest”.
So…here it is: How did Ned Stark, when confronting Cersei, know that Jaime was the father of her children (ie twin-cest)? Certainly, the kids weren’t Robert’s due to the “black of hair” Baratheon trait. However, what leap in logic did Ned (or possibly Jon Arryn and Stannis before him) made him think Jamie the father? To me this is a bit of a stretch…even in a Targaryen world. There wasn’t anything in the novel I’ve found that Ned was even thinking such a thing before his confrontation with Cersei. Now, once it was presented to Cersei she didn’t deny it but I don’t think for one minute that Ned was trying to trick her into admitting it. He’s an honorable guy but he isn’t that clever. So as to the proof of “twin-cest” where is this proof? Let’s face it there isn’t any proof because Cersei could (and would prove true later) have been banging anyone….
Personally, I think this is an oversight in the books. Thoughts?
Synopsis
Lord Eddard Stark and Ser Barristan Selmy stand over the body of Ser Hugh of the Vale, discussing the young, dead knight and his family. He had a mother in the Vale apparently but no one else. So, Ser Barristan had stood vigil over his body the night prior to honor his status as a knight. Ned had arrived that morning to pay his respects and ponder whether Ser Hugh of the Vale had died for him and his investigation. He supposed he would never know.
Some backstory on Ser Hugh is discussed between Ned and Barristan. He was Jon Arryn’s squire for four years and was knighted by Robert Baratheon himself. The thing was that he wasn’t ready to be a knight, according to Barristan. No one is ever ready for death, Ned corrects.
But Ned’s not doing so hot himself. He’s exhausted, and he’s finding the business of running the country awful. And there were men dying in his name for a tourney he didn’t even want in the first place. He commands the Silent Sisters to send his armor back to Ser Hugh’s mom. It’ll be worth a silver at the very least. When Barristan is unsure whether Ser Hugh had finished paying the smith who made his armor, Ned replies that he paid dearly for it. Ned will take care of any costs associated with the armor.
Ned and Barristan walk back to the king’s pavilion as breakfast is prepared, and Ned gets into Sansa mode, looking on at the various sigils and coats of arms among the pavilions outside of the tourney grounds.
The king means to fight in the melee today, Barristan says to Ned.
Yes, Ned replies grimly.
Barristan hopes that Robert might have forgotten about his vow to fight, but Ned knows better. Robert would never back down from a fight. The two men walk into Robert’s pavilion, with Ned hoping to find Robert in an alcohol-induced sleep, but his hopes are brought up short. Robert is drinking, true. But he’s in full Conan the Barbarian mode as he roars at his Lannister squires to help him into his gorget and breastplate.
When Ned states that the squires are not at fault for Robert’s armor not fitting and that the true fault lay with the king’s obesity, Robert grouses about Ned’s way of talking to his king before bursting into laughter and asking Ned why he’s always right. The squires, in turn, smile nervously, and then Robert yells at them to go to Ser Aron Santagar to get the breastplate stretcher. When the boys scamper off, Barristan and Robert laugh while Ned manages a smile.
Ned inquires after the squires. They’re both Lannisters. They needed places of honor in King’s Landing, and Cersei had forced the issue on Robert. She has a large family after all. A very ambitious family, Ned thinks. Though Ned isn’t personally opposed to these boys, he’s not exactly enamored with the idea of Lannisters surrounding Robert.
The talk is you and the queen had angry words last night, Ned tells Robert.
This sours Robert, and he tells Ned that Cersei forbid him to fight in the upcoming melee. Lyanna would have never done that! Uh-huh. Sure, Bob. You never knew Lyanna as I did, Robert, Ned tells Robert. You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath. She would have told you that you have no business in the melee.
Robert is disappointed that Ned is also against him fighting, but he’s a hashtag: real man, and real men FIGHT. Sure. Robert will sit the Iron Throne when he has to, but sometimes, you just wanna fucking hit someone. Barristan comments that kings don’t melee. And besides, it’s not a fair contest. No one would hit Robert.
Robert is shocked at this. They should fight him, and the last man will be … You, Ned finishes for Robert. Wellllll … Bob’s not happy about that. He yells at them to get out or he’ll kill them. Barristan moves to the exit. But Robert stops Ned. Not you, Ned. You stay. And have a drink while you’re at it, damn your protests about not day-drinking.
So, Ned has a beer with his king and friend. Robert thinks about how alive he felt winningvtgecthrone and how dead he feels sitting it. He complains that he doesn’t like being king, doesn’t like his wife and he’ll brook no arguments from Ned about whose claim was better. And his children? Man, how did he get a son like Joffrey? He’s dreamed of crossing the Narrow Sea to play the role as sellsword king, but the only thing that keeps him from doing that is the thought of Joffrey on the Iron Throne.
Ned hears the hurt in Robert’s voice and attempts to console him, saying that Joffrey is only a boy. And maybe he’ll grow up a little. And Robert does cheer a little, thinking to Jon Arryn and how his foster father didn’t know if Robert would turn into a good king. When Ned says nothing, Robert grouses that Ned could agree. When Ned starts to speak, Robert cuts him off with a Ah, say that I’m a better king than Aerys and be done with it. You could never lie for love nor honor, Ned Stark.
And then Robert comes out of his black mood, talking about how things will be different, damn the Lannisters. And then Robert remembers stories from his youth, and Ned thinks that things will finally go well. He’ll prove that the Lannisters murdered Jon Arryn, and if Tywin rises in revolt, Robert would warhammer his way to victory against the West.
And then they go to the Hand’s Tourney. Ned joins up with Sansa in the stands, having promised his daughter that he’d be there today. He notices that Cersei isn’t present, and he’s pleased by this.
But then we’re back to the races … tilts … whatever. And first up, it’s Sandor Clegane vs Jaime Lannister. Littlefinger bets 100 dragons on Jaime. Renly takes the bet. And the two champions face off against each other with Ned all the while thinking that he would have loved nothing so well as to see both of them lose. The horses race at each other and the lances collide, and Sandor Clegane is very nearly knocked from his saddle. But somehow he manages to hang on.
New lances grabbed, the horses go at each other yet again, but this time, Sandor’s lance catches Jaime, and the kingslayer falls to the ground with a crack and twisted helmet. Renly laughs that if Tyrion were here, he’d have won twice as much gold given that Tyrion would bet on Jaime. Hm. Yeah, about that ….
Next, we have our would-be penultimate tilt. It’s Ser Gregor Clegane vs. Loras Tyrell. Now, Ned had never taken stock in Gregor. Sure, he’d ridden with him in the Greyjoy Rebellion, but he’d never spoken to the man. And he spent his time away from King’s Landing in his keep where he allegedly murdered his father and sister. And there were dark rumors that he had murdered Aegon Targaryen and raped Elia of Dorne. But Gregor standing before Ned now is disquieting. The man is huge, much larger than even Hodor or anyone else Ned had ever seen.
In contrast, when Loras Tyrell makes his appearance, he is the soul of chivalry -- at least in how he looks with his roses and polished armor and saddle of woven flowers. It’s ridiculous, but of course, what isn’t ridiculous about the Tyrells, I ask you? Anyhow, Sansa is still enamored of Loras and begs her father not to let anything happen to the Tyrell boy. Ned reassures her that these are tourney lances -- not that this stopped Ser Hugh from being killed.
Anyways, the two men ride their horses in front of the king, but strangely, Gregor’s horse is kicking and bucking and nearly throwing Gregor from the horse. Curious. The two men line up to face each other, and they charge. Gregor unsteadily tries to get his lance and shield into position, but Loras strikes him hard, and the Mountain falls to the cheers of the crowd and the laughter of Sandor Clegane. The victorious Loras reins up, lifts his visor to smile at the cheers. But all is not well.
Gregor Clegane calls for his sword. When it arrives, he brings the sword down against his horse, half-severing the beast’s head and killing him. And then he moves towards Loras. Everyone starts shouting. Loras sees what’s about to happen, yells for his own sword, but Gregor’s blow knocks Loras off his horse.
But just as the Mountain is about to murder the bejesus out of Loras Tyrell, a rasping voice calls out. Leave him be. And a steel-clad hand yanks Gregor’s shoulder back. The Mountain spins around swinging his sword with him. But Sandor parries each time, and begins striking back. They fight across the tourney field until Robert Baratheon finally gets into Robert in his prime mode.
STOP THIS MADNESS IN THE NAME OF YOUR KING!
Sandor Clegane goes to one knee with Gregor’s sword cutting through air above him (Fantastic scene in the show by the way), and Gregor pushes past the crowd. Robert tells everyone to let Gregor go, and Sansa asks if Sandor won. Ned doesn’t think so, but then Loras Tyrell gets into real chivalrous, true knight mode:
I owe you my life. The day is yours, ser.
I am no ser, Sandor replies.
But he takes the championship, money and the acclaim of the crowd for the first time all the same.
Ned, Sansa, Littlefinger, Barristan and Renly walk over to the archery competition. Littlefinger complains that Loras Tyrell cheated by riding a mare in heat while Gregor rode ill-tempered stallions. Barristan protests that this is dishonorable. And Renlyquips that sure, it’s dishonorable, but cash money rules everything around me.
At the archery competition, an unknown commoner by the name of Anguy from the Dornish Marches wins the competition, and at the melee, Thoros of Myr wins. That night, at the feast, Robert is in a good mood, and the Lannisters were off sulking somewhere else. Ned feels hopeful about this. Even more hopeful is that Sansa and Arya seem to be getting on for once with Sansa recounting the tourney, and Arya talking about her “dancing lessons” and how she’s sore from them on. When Sansa is off dancing, Ned asks after Arya’s lessons. She tells Ned that he’s been hard but fair, teaching her to see with her ears, nose and skin. And tomorrow, she’ll be catching cats with her bare hands. Ned is skeptical and wonders aloud whether Arya wants to be trained by someone else. Nope. She’s good with Syrio. Thank you very much, dad.
Back in the Hand’s Tower around midnight, Ned begins thinking again, wondering why Tyrion would want Bran dead. He studies the catspaw dagger. It must be related to Jon Arryn’s death. It must be! But he was lost in a fog here. The only people who knew - Stannis and Lysa - are gone. And what of the armorer’s apprentice. Sure, Jory had been searching the brothels for more of Robert’s bastards, but what did it matter that Robert had bastards. He had always had bastards. Gendry, a bastard girl in the Vale that Ned held and one he even openly acknowledged was his own down in Storm’s End. None of them would threaten Robert’s trueborn children, right? Ha-ha. Yeah. Alright. I see you, George.
But just then, a knock at the door -- someone begging Ned’s leave to speak with him. Ned says, yeah sure, why not. It’s only midnight. And so a stout man in cracked, mud-caked boots and a heavy brown robe comes through the door. Ned doesn’t recognize him even after their introduction, but when the door closes, the cowl comes back, and it’s none other than Varys the Spider. ‘The hell are you doing here, Varys?
They take two cups of wine, and Ned tells Varys that he would not have recognized him unless he revealed himself. Yeah, that’s kind of the point, Ned, Varys tells him. Everyone is fucking watching you, brother. But the wine’s nice. Thanks. But wait, how did you get past all my guards. Oh, you know, ways only known to ghosts and spiders. But Varys isn’t here to talk about such mundane details as how he can get through the Red Keep all incognito and shit. Ned’s gotta know things. What things?
Well, uh, Robert Baratheon was supposed to die to day in the melee. The Lannisters were going to kill him. But wait, Cersei had forbade Robert to fight. Yeah. No shit. That’s Cersei’s low cunning in action. Forbid Robert to do something, and by the Seven, Robert would FIGHT. But who was supposed to have killed Robert if he entered the melee. Ah, that’s not important. There were lots of dudes in there. Who indeed? But the plan seems to have been that whoever it was was going to be very, very sad and cry a lot. And the newly-minted king Joffrey would have forgiven the poor catspaw. Or he would have been executed. Either way, the Lannisters would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for that rascally Ned Stark throwing monkey wrenches in their conspiracies.
But why didn’t Varys come to Ned with this plot? Well, he might have come, but he didn’t trust Ned. Besides, even if Ned told Robert about the plot, the king still would have gone out in the melee. But why didn’t Varys trust Ned? Because, Varys says, there’s two types of people in the Red Keep: those who are loyal to themselves and those loyal to the realm. Varys didn’t know which type Ned was until Ned confronted Robert before he could partake in the melee.
But now, Varys sees the worth of Ned Stark. And sees that he’s the new sheriff in town. And he has a bit of immunity from harm from the Lannisters due to his relationship with Robert. Ha, okay, George. Again, I see you. But surely there must be others who can be counted on, Ned says. Renly and Stannis. Ehhh, not so much. Renly and Stannis hate the Lannisters, but everyone else has their own game in mind:
Ser Barristan loves his honor, Grand Maester Pycelle loves his office, and Littlefinger loves Littlefinger.”
“The Kingsguard-”
“A paper shield,” the eunuch said. “Try not to look so shocked, Lord Stark. Jaime Lannister is himself a Sworn Brother of the White Swords, and we all know what his oath is worth. The days when men like Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight wore the white cloak are gone to dust and song. Of these seven, only Ser Barristan Selmy is made of the true steel, and Selmy is old. Ser Boros and Ser Meryn are the queen’s creatures to the bone, and I have deep suspicions of the others. No, my lord, when the swords come out in earnest, you will be the only true friend Robert Baratheon will have.”
Well, damn them all, Robert must be told anyways. Don’t be a damn fool, Ned. We don’t have proof, and we’ll be up against the word of Jaime and Tywin. If you’re that dumb, just send for Ser Ilyn now to have both our heads off. But yes, the Lannisters will try again. Yeah, they will and probably soon. Ned is making the Lannisters very anxious. But perhaps Varys and Ned can work together and forestall the coming calamity. Just, y’know, be sure and be an asshole to me at small council sessions to prevent further suspicion, okay, Ned? You can do that for me.
But now Varys has to go, but as he’s at the door, Ned asks the question he’s down here to answer.
Varys, how did Jon Arryn die?
I wondered when you would get around to that.
Tell me.
The tears of Lys, they call it. A rare and costly thing, clear and sweet as water, and it leaves no trace. I begged Lord Arryn to use a taster, in this very room I begged him, but he would not hear of it. Only one who was less than a man would even think of such a thing, he told me.
Lol, oh George. You slay me. More on this later. And who gave him the poison? Ah, well, you know probably a friend, like that squire who just became a knight who died. You know the one, right? Ned suddenly feels sick. Ser Hugh. Ned’s head begins hurting.
Why? Why now? Jon Arryn had been Hand for fourteen years. What was he doing that they had to kill him?
Asking questions, Varys says before slipping out of the door.
And that is AGOT, Eddard VII: the conclusion to the Hand’s Tourney and the best Ned chapter yet. Probably my second favorite Ned chapter in AGOT. What do you think, Emmett?
Depth
If Sansa II kicked off the Hand’s Tourney from the POV of a wide-eyed innocent, Eddard VII brings it to a close by dwelling on the weariness of adulthood. From Ser Hugh to Robert to Varys, our boy Ned is constantly facing down the intertwined burdens of aging and disillusionment that Sansa has just barely begun to face. Every lil scene in this chapter is so poignant and well done that it’s easily my favorite Ned chapter to date; it gets at the heart of his relationship with Robert, it features an intense, cleverly thought-out action scene with the joust between Loras and Gregor, and best of all, it reveals much more about Varys the Spider.
- Farewell to Ser Hugh
- Right away, it’s framed in a generational context:
- "I stood last vigil for him myself," Ser Barristan Selmy said as they looked down at the body in the back of the cart. "He had no one else. A mother in the Vale, I am told."
- Barry will also stand sadly over the body of Quentyn Martell, another young fool sacrificed for an older generation in his attempt to Be The Hero
- Ned’s sadness exemplifies his regretful and sorrowful attitude towards the kids:
- Ned had slept badly last night and he felt tired beyond his years. "None of us is ever ready," he said.
"For knighthood?"
"For death." Gently Ned covered the boy with his cloak, a bloodstained bit of blue bordered in crescent moons. When his mother asked why her son was dead, he reflected bitterly, they would tell her he had fought to honor the King's Hand, Eddard Stark. "This was needless. War should not be a game." - One has to imagine he’s thinking of Lyanna and of Rhaegar’s kids...all three of them
- And of course, George is over-the-top signalling that Eddard himself will die when he’s unready for it.
- Ned had slept badly last night and he felt tired beyond his years. "None of us is ever ready," he said.
- Right away, it’s framed in a generational context:
- In the King’s Pavilion
- How interesting that Robert’s pavilion is described as “golden silk” -- GRRM is intentionally drawing a parallel to the cart Sansa and company arrived to the tourney in. It’s symbolizing Robert’s own “rose tinted glasses” as he’s attempting to recapture the fading glories of his youth taking down the Targaryen regime.
- Again, immediately generational: the aging king barking at young squires
- Lancel and Tyrek Lannister, introduced here, are initially framed as clumsy and inexperienced, but the fault isn’t in their youth--it’s in Robert’s age
- And of course, Lancel and Tyrek are pawns of the older generation as well--Lancel by Cersei, Tyrek by (in all likelihood) Varys
- Lancel specifically destroys his life trying to live up to Jaime’s image, just as Robert feels he’s wasted his life living up to the image of being king
- Robert is being nostalgic for his own youth, when he had a life with Lyanna rather than Cersei to look forward to, but while he “plays the boy” Ned is ever the adult (“always, though, the graver thoughts crept in”) and challenges those illusions:
- “You never knew Lyanna as I did, Robert,” Ned told him. “You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath. She would have told you that you have no business in the melee.”
- Lyanna was...the true steel?
- Robert just wants to recapture the sexy athletic glories of his past:
- The king frowned. "You are a sour man, Stark. Too long in the north, all the juices have frozen inside you. Well, mine are still running." He slapped his chest to prove it.
- You have to wonder if Robert and Stannis had similar conversations before Stannis flew the coup. Again, Ned is taking the Stannis “take this shit seriously” role to Robert’s negligent run of kingship.
- But that nostalgic desire runs up hard against the adult realities of being king:
- "You are the king," Ned reminded him.
"I sit on the damn iron seat when I must. Does that mean I don't have the same hungers as other men? A bit of wine now and again, a girl squealing in bed, the feel of a horse between my legs? Seven hells, Ned, I want to hit someone."
Ser Barristan Selmy spoke up. "Your Grace," he said, "it is not seemly that the king should ride into the melee. It would not be a fair contest. Who would dare strike you?"
Robert seemed honestly taken aback. "Why, all of them, damn it. If they can. And the last man left standing …"
"… will be you," Ned finished. He saw at once that Selmy had hit the mark. The dangers of the melee were only a savor to Robert, but this touched on his pride. "Ser Barristan is right. There's not a man in the Seven Kingdoms who would dare risk your displeasure by hurting you.”
- What Ned and Barristan are saying is you can’t go home again. Robert is king now, too fat for his armor, and the rules have changed; the crown makes everyone treat him so differently that honest sport is impossible
- The game is rigged, and that it’s in his favor is even worse from his point of view
- There’s also a great Barristan character moment here which goes to show that Barristan’s willingness to challenge royal authority only goes so far:
- The king rose to his feet, his face flushed. "Are you telling me those prancing cravens will let me win?"
"For a certainty," Ned said, and Ser Barristan Selmy bowed his head in silent accord. - This helps set the stage for Eddard VIII when Barristan joins Ned in counseling Robert against sending hard knives after Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen, but where Ned resigns his handship in moral outrage over Robert’s final decision, Barristan “bows his head” and remains Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
- Varys has the right of it that Barristan “loves his honor” -- an honor that’s bestowed on him by his white cloak -- something he will not give up until Joffrey fires him at the end of AGOT.
- There’s also a great Barristan character moment here which goes to show that Barristan’s willingness to challenge royal authority only goes so far:
- (Of course, there’s the irony that someone would’ve been trying to hurt him)
- This cuts Robert deep, not only making him furious…
- For a moment Robert was so angry he could not speak. He strode across the tent, whirled, strode back, his face dark and angry. He snatched up his breastplate from the ground and threw it at Barristan Selmy in a wordless fury. Selmy dodged. "Get out," the king said then, coldly. "Get out before I kill you."
- ...but also inducing existential despair
- “Damn you, Ned Stark. You and Jon Arryn, I loved you both. What have you done to me? You were the one should have been king, you or Jon.”
- It’s the same sentiment Ned expressed to Ser Hugh’s corpse, only inverted: instead of “war is not a game,” it’s that Robert wants war and is left with the game
- Is this why he is so insistent on taking down that boar later? Because that’s genuine competition at last, and it makes him feel alive even as he’s dying?
- The same themes of youth and innocence despoiled apply, as Robert argues that the crown is both a burden for which he wasn’t ready and a curse that has slowly destroyed that which was good in him:
- “Look at me, Ned. Look at what kinging has done to me. Gods, too fat for my armor, how did it ever come to this?”
- “I swear to you, I was never so alive as when I was winning this throne, or so dead as now that I’ve won it.”
- Similar sentiments will be expressed in ASOS by both Robb…
- “Gods be good, why would any man ever want to be king?” (ASOS, Catelyn III)
- ...and Stannis:
- "Have you ever seen the Iron Throne? The barbs along the back, the ribbons of twisted steel, the jagged ends of swords and knives all tangled up and melted? It is not a comfortable seat, ser. Aerys cut himself so often men took to calling him King Scab, and Maegor the Cruel was murdered in that chair. By that chair, to hear some tell it. It is not a seat where a man can rest at ease. Ofttimes I wonder why my brothers wanted it so desperately." (ASOS, Davos IV)
- “I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning . . . burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?" (ASOS, Davos V)
- Robert goes on to tearfully confess that he’d give it all up if it weren’t for Joffrey:
- "Let me tell you a secret, Ned. More than once, I have dreamed of giving up the crown. Take ship for the Free Cities with my horse and my hammer, spend my time warring and whoring, that's what I was made for. The sellsword king, how the singers would love me. You know what stops me? The thought of Joffrey on the throne, with Cersei standing behind him whispering in his ear. My son. How could I have made a son like that, Ned?"
- This is arguably the closest Robert comes to articulating a sense of duty as king, and it’s that he hates it but he sticks with it because his heir is far worse
- And yet Robert only goes halfway in identifying that he’s got a serious issue in his heir, but he doesn’t have a plan of action to try to mold Joffrey into someone worthy of inheriting the Iron Throne.
- Again, the fostering solution might have been worth pursuing: send Joffrey to Stannis, send him to Robert’s grandparents the Estermonts or somewhere where the kid will be away from Cersei, but because of both Robert and Ned’s shared experience in being fostered, it’s not even broached by either party.
- And yet Robert only goes halfway in identifying that he’s got a serious issue in his heir, but he doesn’t have a plan of action to try to mold Joffrey into someone worthy of inheriting the Iron Throne.
- It’s a devastating admission, but having made it, Robert feels better; as in Inside Out, facing sadness head-on is a necessary prerequisite for finding your joy
- “I'm still young, and now that you're here with me, things will be different. We'll make this a reign to sing of, and damn the Lannisters to seven hells.”
- This gets at what Varys says later and what Cersei said back at Winterfell: Robert’s despair and inertia are very valuable to Cersei, because they prevent him from changing things up, and Ned has the potential to get Robert off his ass
- And while their dynamic is rooted in nostalgia for their youth, that’s framed in a much more positive light than Robert’s equally nostalgic desire to fight:
- The king's melancholy melted away with the morning mist, and before long Robert was eating an orange and waxing fond about a morning at the Eyrie when they had been boys. "… had given Jon a barrel of oranges, remember? Only the things had gone rotten, so I flung mine across the table and hit Dacks right in the nose. You remember, Redfort's pock-faced squire? He tossed one back at me, and before Jon could so much as fart, there were oranges flying across the High Hall in every direction." He laughed uproariously, and even Ned smiled, remembering.
This was the boy he had grown up with, he thought; this was the Robert Baratheon he'd known and loved. If he could prove that the Lannisters were behind the attack on Bran, prove that they had murdered Jon Arryn, this man would listen. Then Cersei would fall, and the Kingslayer with her, and if Lord Tywin dared to rouse the west, Robert would smash him as he had smashed Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident. He could see it all so clearly.
- The king's melancholy melted away with the morning mist, and before long Robert was eating an orange and waxing fond about a morning at the Eyrie when they had been boys. "… had given Jon a barrel of oranges, remember? Only the things had gone rotten, so I flung mine across the table and hit Dacks right in the nose. You remember, Redfort's pock-faced squire? He tossed one back at me, and before Jon could so much as fart, there were oranges flying across the High Hall in every direction." He laughed uproariously, and even Ned smiled, remembering.
- It’s a very sweet sentiment made bittersweet on reread because we know that none of it ever actually came to pass
- Trope alert: Listen up, fantasy protagonist, if you want your plans to come to pass, don’t ever, not once ever, ever think about your plans in detail. Just don’t do it! They will never come to pass.
- Note that this warm emotional connection, the callback to their childhood bond, is what convinces Ned that Robert will listen to him about the Lannisters, whereas Stannis was convinced Robert wouldn’t listen, because they never had that bond
- Back to the jousting!
- Cute fangirl moment from Sansa: “I knew the Hound would win.”
- But the central focus is not the Hound now, rather the Mountain and his legend:
- Unlike his brother, Ser Gregor did not live at court. He was a solitary man who seldom left his own lands, but for wars and tourneys. He had been with Lord Tywin when King's Landing fell, a new-made knight of seventeen years, even then distinguished by his size and his implacable ferocity. Some said it had been Gregor who'd dashed the skull of the infant prince Aegon Targaryen against a wall, and whispered that afterward he had raped the mother, the Dornish princess Elia, before putting her to the sword. These things were not said in Gregor's hearing.
Ned Stark could not recall ever speaking to the man, though Gregor had ridden with them during Balon Greyjoy's rebellion, one knight among thousands. He watched him with disquiet. Ned seldom put much stock in gossip, but the things said of Ser Gregor were more than ominous. He was soon to be married for the third time, and one heard dark whisperings about the deaths of his first two wives. It was said that his keep was a grim place where servants disappeared unaccountably and even the dogs were afraid to enter the hall. And there had been a sister who had died young under queer circumstances, and the fire that had disfigured his brother, and the hunting accident that had killed their father. Gregor had inherited the keep, the gold, and the family estates. His younger brother Sandor had left the same day to take service with the Lannisters as a sworn sword, and it was said that he had never returned, not even to visit.
- Unlike his brother, Ser Gregor did not live at court. He was a solitary man who seldom left his own lands, but for wars and tourneys. He had been with Lord Tywin when King's Landing fell, a new-made knight of seventeen years, even then distinguished by his size and his implacable ferocity. Some said it had been Gregor who'd dashed the skull of the infant prince Aegon Targaryen against a wall, and whispered that afterward he had raped the mother, the Dornish princess Elia, before putting her to the sword. These things were not said in Gregor's hearing.
- Two main takeaways here, and appropriate for this generation-focused chapter, one is about young Gregor and one about present day Gregor
- Young Gregor is framed as the monster who tainted Robert’s Rebellion, which fits perfectly after a scene about how Robert has lost his mojo
- It also links Tywin and House Lannister, as in Eddard II, with the death of Rhaegar’s children; note that Gregor was “even then distinguished by his size and his implacable ferocity,” suggesting that Tywin was full of shit when he told Tyrion that he didn’t know at the time what he had in Gregor
- Present day Gregor has only gotten worse; he’s straight-up Bluebeard, and having killed Ser Hugh, the avatar of foolish young innocence, he represents the decay and despair that have set in for Ned’s generation
- So of course, GRRM now juxtaposes him with Loras Tyrell, the avatar of chivalry
- When the Knight of Flowers made his entrance, a murmur ran through the crowd, and he heard Sansa's fervent whisper, "Oh, he's so beautiful." Ser Loras Tyrell was slender as a reed, dressed in a suit of fabulous silver armor polished to a blinding sheen and filigreed with twining black vines and tiny blue forget-me-nots. The commons realized in the same instant as Ned that the blue of the flowers came from sapphires; a gasp went up from a thousand throats. Across the boy's shoulders his cloak hung heavy. It was woven of forget-me-nots, real ones, hundreds of fresh blooms sewn to a heavy woolen cape.
- But Loras wins via rather un-chivalric means, undercutting that image
"Tyrell had to know the mare was in heat," Littlefinger was saying. "I swear the boy planned the whole thing. Gregor has always favored huge, ill-tempered stallions with more spirit than sense." The notion seemed to amuse him.
It did not amuse Ser Barristan Selmy. "There is small honor in tricks," the old man said stiffly.
"Small honor and twenty thousand golds." Lord Renly smiled.
- Naturally Renly approves, because Loras’ trick is identical to their plan: dangle a pretty young mare (Margaery) in front of a huge spirited warhorse (Robert) and convince him to dump his rider (Gregor representing his Lannister masters)
- Of course, the Lannisters will kill Robert, and Gregor promptly kills his horse
- This is the equivalent of the moment all the smiles died at Harrenhal:
- Cheers turned to shrieks in a heartbeat.
- Loras having bent the rules, Gregor outright shatters them by trying to kill him in front of everyone; as with him killing Ser Hugh, the war game becomes war
- But then...CLEGANEBOWL
But as Gregor lifted his sword for the killing blow, a rasping voice warned, "Leave him be," and a steel-clad hand wrenched him away from the boy.
The Mountain pivoted in wordless fury, swinging his longsword in a killing arc with all his massive strength behind it, but the Hound caught the blow and turned it, and for what seemed an eternity the two brothers stood hammering at each other as a dazed Loras Tyrell was helped to safety. Thrice Ned saw Ser Gregor aim savage blows at the hound's-head helmet, yet not once did Sandor send a cut at his brother's unprotected face.
- This suggests that at some level, Sandor has internalized what Sansa meant by “[Gregor] was no true knight,” despite mocking it at the time
- After all, he’s protecting Loras, who represents in these chapters the idealized image of knighthood Sandor and Sansa both believe(d) in
- Even more tellingly, he is refusing to take the killing blow
- Does he care now about being a true knight more than his revenge?
- (This is not to say that Gregor doesn’t richly deserve it, especially from Sandor, but that Sandor might be healthier and happier moving on)
- Anguy wins the archery tournament; Ned offers him a guardsman position, trying at least to turn the shallow windfalls of the tourney into some social mobility, but the allure of wine and women is too strong for the future Brotherhood member
- Victory in the melee goes to Thoros of Myr and his flaming sword. And man, there’s a shitload of metaphors there.
- The War of the Five Kings and the shifting alliances symbolized by this terrific description:
They fought with blunted weapons in a chaos of mud and blood, small troops fighting together and then turning on each other as alliances formed and fractured, until only one man was left standing. - The Azor Ahai figure winning in the end?
- The War of the Five Kings and the shifting alliances symbolized by this terrific description:
- Caught in the Spiderweb
- A seeming stranger walks in, throws back his cowl, and takes over the chapter
- He smiled a plump tight little smile, and for a moment his private face and public mask were one.
- Just as with Sansa II, Eddard VII ends with an intense, intimate conversation educating our POV as to what’s lurking behind the pageantry of the Tourney
- This is also Varys’ equivalent of that moment in The Empire Strikes Back when Yoda drops the goofy act and reveals himself as the intimidatingly sharp master
- The eunuch’s cloying tones were gone; now his voice was thin and sharp as a whip.
- It’s telling that this revealing moment for Varys comes when he’s initially unrecognizable; the perfume and obsequiousness are a disguise as well
- On one level, he plays the same role Ned did for Robert: a teller of hard truths
- “You are the King’s Hand, and the king is a fool … Your friend, I know, yet a fool nonetheless...and doomed, unless you save him. Today was a near thing. They had hoped to kill him during the melee.”
- Yet the Spider still belongs to the world of court intrigue, and he’s not Ned’s friend
- A seeming stranger walks in, throws back his cowl, and takes over the chapter
Ned felt his anger rise. “You knew of this plot, and yet you did nothing.”
“I command whisperers, not warriors.”
“I will make another confession, Lord Eddard. I was curious to see what you would do. Why not come to me? you ask, and I must answer, Why, because I did not trust you, my lord.”
- So then why reach out at all? What’s fascinating about this conversation is that while Varys admits he operates in a more underhanded and devious manner than Ned, he’s identifying them both as “those who are loyal to the realm”
- Moreover, he knows that what makes Ned so dangerous to the Lannisters is his friendship with Robert, that which uniquely in KL lacks corruption, ambition, etc.
"I begin to comprehend why the queen fears you so much. Oh, yes I do."
"You are the one she ought to fear," Ned said.
"No. I am what I am. The king makes use of me, but it shames him. A most puissant warrior is our Robert, and such a manly man has little love for sneaks and spies and eunuchs. If a day should come when Cersei whispers, 'Kill that man,' Ilyn Payne will snick my head off in a twinkling, and who will mourn poor Varys then? North or south, they sing no songs for spiders." He reached out and touched Ned with a soft hand. "But you, Lord Stark…I think…no, I know…he would not kill you, not even for his queen, and there may lie our salvation."
- Varys also makes the same systemic critique as Sandor in the last chapter, albeit from a more detached perspective: the institutions of Westeros are worthless, riddled with hypocrisy and corruption, unable to deliver justice. “Paper shields.”
“Ser Barristan loves his honor, Grand Maester Pycelle loves his office, and Littlefinger loves Littlefinger.”
"The Kingsguard—"
"A paper shield," the eunuch said. "Try not to look so shocked, Lord Stark. Jaime Lannister is himself a Sworn Brother of the White Swords, and we all know what his oath is worth. The days when men like Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight wore the white cloak are gone to dust and song. Of these seven, only Ser Barristan Selmy is made of the true steel, and Selmy is old. Ser Boros and Ser Meryn are the queen's creatures to the bone, and I have deep suspicions of the others. No, my lord, when the swords come out in earnest, you will be the only true friend Robert Baratheon will have."
- In response, Ned brings up the same duty Stannis and Jon Arryn faced…
- “Robert must be told,” Ned said. “If what you say is true, if even a part of it is true, the king must hear it for himself.”
- ...and Varys supplies the same conclusion they came to:
- "And what proof shall we lay before him? My words against theirs? My little birds against the queen and the Kingslayer, against his brothers and his council, against the Wardens of East and West, against all the might of Casterly Rock? Pray, send for Ser Ilyn directly, it will save us all some time. I know where that road ends."
- Of course, the chapter wouldn’t be complete without one more deconstruction of the youthful appeal of knighthood and fantasy tropes in general:
- “There was one boy. All he was, he owed Jon Arryn, but when the widow fled to the Eyrie with her household, he stayed in King’s Landing and prospered. It always gladdens my heart to see the young rise in the world.” The whip was in his voice again, every word a stroke.
- As many fans have noted, Varys is also describing the person who was truly behind Jon Arryn’s death: Littlefinger. “Wheels within wheels within wheels.”
Likes/Dislikes
Like: I absolutely love Varys’ closing line in this chapter, which we borrowed for the title of this episode: “asking questions.” It’s an intriguing line in its own right that makes us want to learn more about the Arryn investigation, it perfectly sums up the razor’s-edge politics in King’s Landing, and it’s a wonderfully snarky response to Ned’s questions. What got him killed? Asking questions like that one, so shut yer yap, m’lord!
Dislike: Ned might well believe that “the clean simplicity of the North” is a thing. However, the elbow-throwing politics we see later on at Winterfell via Bran’s chapters demonstrate otherwise. Might be setup for subversion, but I think lines like that one have led to an erroneous belief in the fandom that the Northerners are somehow above the game of thrones. GRRM is of course going for a contrast between Ned and Varys; he might’ve gone overboard in this case.
Like: I had completely forgotten that moment of physical comedy in the chapter when Sandor Clegane unhorses Jaime Lannister that his helmet gets twisted around itself that he can’t remove it, and he’s blind-stumbling around the tourney grounds, while Robert and the rest of Westeros laughs at him until someone has to walk him over to a blacksmith to remove his helmet. I can picture it so clearly. And while I adore all the intrigue with Varys, the great conversations Ned has with Barristan and Robert, the moments where Ned is acting the part of the father to Sansa, sometimes, I just need a laugh to relieve the sometimes unrelenting tension in these books, and here, George did not disappoint.
Dislike: Okay, since I’m still on this comedy thing, I guess I do have to have a comedy criticism here. And again, it’s an extremely minor critique, because these chapters in AGOT are among the best in the book. But when Robert yells at Lancel to bring him “the breastplate stretcher”, I kind of roll my eyes. It reminds me oh-so-much of being a young soldier and getting hazed, molded into a hardened warrior by the more experienced soldiers who would helpfully tell us to “get with supply to grab some head lighter fluid for the HMMWV” or “I need you to head over to the XO’s office and request a box of grid squares” or the ever-faithful “Go to your Platoon Sergeant and ask for the P-R-C (pronounced “prick”) E7.” I guess what I’m saying is that this particular brand of humor feels played out, but that’s definitely my subjective enjoyment of comedy more than anything. Or perhaps it’s the traumatic memory of standing in front of the Company Supply Sergeant as he stared at me with such utter contempt when I told him that I needed two bottles of headlight fluid. I don’t know!
Groundwork/Foreshadowing
Both of the conversation scenes that define this chapter lay the groundwork for conversations Ned will have with the same characters: with Robert on his deathbed, and with Varys in the black cells.
It’s also more groundwork for the Stannis-Davos relationship--the man who knows me, who will tell me the truth, who I keep around even when ordering everyone else to leave me alone.
Ned’s worries about the Lannister squires of course pay off when Lancel slips Robert that fortified wine.
Ned’s musings about Robert’s first bastard sets us up to immediately recognize Mya Stone.
Varys’ description of the Lannisters promising mercy to a complicit partner only to take his head off is exactly what happens to Ned--the offer even comes from Varys himself
Our first in-story hints that Littlefinger has played the Starks false with regard to the dagger:
"A hundred golden dragons on the Kingslayer," Littlefinger announced loudly as Jaime Lannister entered the lists, riding an elegant blood bay destrier. The horse wore a blanket of gilded ringmail, and Jaime glittered from head to heel. Even his lance was fashioned from the golden wood of the Summer Isles.
"Done," Lord Renly shouted back. "The Hound has a hungry look about him this morning."
And then Renly has this line after he defeats Littlefinger in the bet:
"A pity the Imp is not here with us," Lord Renly said. "I should have won twice as much."
Compare with Littlefinger’s lies back in Catelyn IV:
"I backed Ser Jaime in the jousting, along with half the court." Petyr's sheepish grin made him look half a boy again. "When Loras Tyrell unhorsed him, many of us became a trifle poorer. Ser Jaime lost a hundred golden dragons, the queen lost an emerald pendant, and I lost my knife. Her Grace got the emerald back, but the winner kept the rest.”
"Who?" Catelyn demanded, her mouth dry with fear. Her fingers ached with remembered pain.
"The Imp," said Littlefinger as Lord Varys watched her face. "Tyrion Lannister."
This is our first hint that shows us that Tyrion’s words to Catelyn in the next chapter that he would never bet against his family are true.
Speaking of Littlefinger, remember that line that Varys recounts Jon Arryn saying about “one who was less than a man would even think of poisoning him”? Yeah, that’s some LOTR “Witch King of Angmar ‘I am no man’ kill by Eowyn” shit, and it’s great. Obviously, we as re-readers know who killed Jon Arryn in Sansa’s final ASOS chapters. It’s a woman: Lysa Arryn on the behest of Littlefinger. But Lysa may not have been acting alone.
Ser Hugh may have been involved.
Theories/Discussion
Who ordered the death of Ser Hugh of the Vale?
Questioner: At the end of A Storm of Swords we learned that Jon Arryn was poisoned by Lysa at the instigation of Littlefinger, but who ordered the death of Ser Hugh of the Vale? Cersei? Littlefinger?
GRRM: It could very well have been either of the two, that's for you to decide. But, it could also just have been a Gregor thing. He's a murderous brute, and really needs no reason to kill someone. - GRRM, So Spake Martin, Asshai Interview at Barcelona, 7/28/2012
Steven Attewell’s theory which you should agree with unless you’re ugly:
My hypothesis, and I’m not the only one who shares it, is that Littlefinger arranged to have Ser Hugh killed. Consider the following: Littlefinger is one of only two people who know of his importance (the other being Varys), and was almost certainly the source of Ser Hugh’s sudden windfall that allowed him to fight in the tourney in the first place. He also had the means and the opportunity to either rig the lists to place Ser Gregor up against Ser Hugh (knowing that his psychotic nature would make him take the obvious kill-shot) or to simply approach him in a tavern and pay Ser Gregor to kill the inconvenient knight. But the most significant factors that lead me towards this being part of the Littlefinger Conspiracy is motive. As part of his larger project of steering Ned’s investigation, Littlefinger piques his interest in Ser Hugh and then arranges his assassination in front of the Hand, which (as we’ll see in Eddard VII) further convinces Eddard’s belief in the Lannisters as the main conspirators and denies Eddard a source of information (while making it look like Littlefinger is his ally).
Conclusion
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