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turtle-paced · 6 months

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Revisiting Chapters: Catelyn VI, ASoS

Bit of a horror movie, this chapter.

The story so far…

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

A Bunch of Assholes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Politics as usual

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catelyn does not know how cold yet.

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

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

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

Foreshadowing

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

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

Neither will do Robb much good here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Function

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

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

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

Miscellany

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

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

Clothing Porn

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

Food Porn

None.

Next Three Chapters

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

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #revisiting chapters #catelyn stark #robb stark #walder frey #edmure tully #a storm of swords

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turtle-paced · 1 year

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Revisiting Chapters: Cersei VII, AFFC

Nobody can say this chapter isn’t memorable.

The story so far…

Cersei’s working on isolating and conquering her enemies, most of all the Tyrells. Sometimes other problems pop up too. It’s probably the Tyrells’ fault again.

This chapter contains discussion of rape and a rape scene.

Whoever Wins…

The narrative picks up as news of what’s been happening in the Ironborn subplot hits King’s Landing. Specifically, a thousand ships have rocked up and started wreaking havoc on the Shield Islands. Margaery’s saying as much.

Well. Cersei knows what’s serious business.

Must, she thought. She dares say “must” to me. She itched to slap the Tyrell girl across the face.

Cersei’s counsellors immediately start saying that the thousand-ship count cannot possibly be correct. That’s just too many ships!

The reason for the general unpolished look of everyone here is explained as Cersei narrates how everyone was woken up in the middle of the night by Margaery’s messengers. Margaery’s described as looking “as though she had just come from some man’s embrace” which is some great projection there from Cersei. More worryingly to her, Cersei’s feeling as though the walls are closing in on her.

My enemies are everywhere, and my friends are useless.

Who appointed these friends to the Small Council, you ask? Let’s not dwell on technicalities.

Anyway, back to the thousand ships. Aurane Waters points out that even if there are only half as many ships, that’s still a lot of ships, and the fleet he’s constructing isn’t ready yet. And even if it was, he reckons that the Iron Fleet still has ships to match most of those the Iron Throne and they have way better sailors than anything the Iron Throne can match. Can’t just stick a bunch of randoms on a boat and expect them to be able to sail it, after all. Cersei’s takeaway from this is that Robert should have killed more Ironborn.

That was what her father would have done, but Robert never had the stomach that a king requires if he hopes to keep peace in the realm.

Maybe Tywin would have killed more Ironborn, and maybe Robert’s approach to the Ironborn was fatally flawed (I suspect it was flawed more in terms of follow-up after the decisive defeat of the Ironborn in the Greyjoy Rebellion), but that doesn’t do much about the thousand or so ships currently menacing the Reach.

The details here are concerning. Aside from just a thousand ships. The sheer scope indicates that this is an invasion, not a raid. The fact that the Ironborn set up replacement lords for the ones they killed indicates that this is an invasion, not a raid. They had the capacity to avoid the coasts, heading for the open sea, before swooping back in. It’s bad news. It’s really bad news.

The other thing that rapidly becomes apparent here is the extent to which Margaery is on the ball. They’re her messengers. Willas sent news to her. And we can see why. She’s across the major noble casualties and their significance, the Ironborn response, the tactics Willas reported to her, what Willas plans to do in response, and the action she needs from the Crown. Margaery might be young and relatively inexperienced, but this entire scene shows that her competence isn’t limited to just political imagery. Margaery could actually be a very good queen in her own right.

By contrast, Cersei needs a drink. Her alcoholism progresses. On a political level, it’s not much better. She also blames Willas (with a delightful frisson of ableism), because he’s a Tyrell and clearly incompetent. She immediately attributes this to Stannis.

Pycelle frowned. “What would Lord Stannis gain by…”

While Orton Merryweather tells Cersei that she’s so clever, Pycelle has more questions. Specifically, he notes that cooperating with the Ironborn would hamstring Stannis’s efforts with the Northerners. Cersei rebuts this by saying that clearly Stannis has thrown in the towel on winning over the North and changing his tactics to recruiting enemies of the North, but if that’s so…what are the Ironborn doing raiding the Reach, while still maintaining their halfassed Northern actions? There’s no way to slice it so this makes sense.

When Margaery says that they must recall Mace Tyrell and lift the siege of Storm’s End, it gets worse:

“I have no doubt that Lord Stannis would be pleased by that. Have you been listening, my lady? If he can draw our eyes away from Dragonstone and Storm’s End to these rocks…”

This is where Margaery’s composure breaks slightly.

“Rocks?” gasped Margaery. “Did Your Grace say rocks?”

Loras can’t restrain his sarcasm as he manages a slightly fuller explanation, being that taking the Shield Islands gives the Ironborn a base to menace the Oldtown, the Arbor, and even Highgarden.

Cersei’s response is to tell Loras that this sounds like a you problem. She further suggests that maybe Willas could ferry any troops he raises across to the Shield Islands with skiffs and barges and fishing boats. If you think this is a stupid idea, well.

“And when the longships of the ironborn descend upon our ragtag fleet as it is making its way across this ‘little stretch of water,’ what would Your Grace have us do then?”

Drown, thought Cersei.

So does Cersei. An intentionally stupid idea intended to get as many people of the Reach killed as possible. Alternatively, the Tyrells can spend big on sellsails. With a thousand (or five hundred) ships bearing down on Cersei’s realm, four strategically important islands captured, Cersei’s aim here is to get some of her only allies killed. Without a plan for, you know, repelling the invasion of her shores.

Now, both Tyrell siblings present are utterly appalled, because they wanted Cersei to command Paxter Redwyne to send his ships to do something about the Iron Fleet, even if that means breaking the siege of Dragonstone. As well they might be appalled. As Cersei flatly denies this request and brings the audience to an end, Pycelle too seems like he was stunned into silence, as Cersei mentions him snapping back to attentiveness.

Appalled or not, Loras now takes unreasonable action in order to appease someone who has proved to be unreasonable. He takes a step towards Cersei - the nerve of him! Cersei is ready to yell for Osmund Kettleblack to defend her from Loras’s vicious walking - but everyone can relax, it’s a false alarm. Loras is, in fact, begging on bended knee to mount a suicidal assault on Dragonstone. He swears that Dragonstone will be Cersei’s within two weeks. And if that siege is ended, then Cersei can freely do something about the massive invasion force bearing down on one of the realm’s breadbaskets as they head into winter.

No one had given Cersei such a lovely gift since Sansa Stark had run to her to divulge Lord Eddard’s plans.

Successfully tricking an eleven year old might not objectively be the flex Cersei thinks it is, but it is however about the right level of flex for the clownery Cersei’s currently indulging in. Hooray! Cersei has successfully rid herself of one of Tommen’s very few competent bodyguards, arranged for allied forces to cut themselves down on a castle they don’t need to fall right this instant, further alienated her political allies and advisors, and ignored a full scale invasion.

Pycelle’s not getting it though. As Cersei monologues to herself about how clever she is to have arranged to blow up her own side, to the point of full blown cartoon villain laughter once she’s out of Tyrell earshot, he’s trying to keep pace with her.

“Your Grace?” Grand Maester Pycelle blinked, his mouth sagging open. “Why…why would you laugh?”

For good measure, Cersei also tosses in the fact that Pycelle got the stunned mullet act on when she notified him of her not at all going to end in disaster arrangement with the High Septon. Imagine that. She’s thinking about replacing Pycelle, too, because someone whose response to Cersei’s decisions in this opening scene was ‘huh - what - why???’ is clearly not keeping up with Cersei and her cunning plans.

Side Projects

Cersei’s night is still not over. Qyburn’s talking replacements for Loras. He has one in mind. It may or may not be zombie Gregor Clegane.

“What he lacks in gallantry he will give you tenfold in devotion. He will protect your son, kill your enemies, and keep your secrets, and no living man will be able to withstand him.”

Sold! Cersei’s already ordered the plate from the armourer. They’re another over-cautious fool who’s saying things like “but physics! Human anatomy! They don’t work like that!”

After reporting in to Taena Merryweather, Cersei’s not quite ready to go back to sleep when guardsmen knock on Cersei’s door again. Cersei tries to say that it’s freaking late here and she needs to sleep, but the guard says that Falyse is “not in a good way.” So Cersei gets dressed and goes to meet with Falyse Stokeworth.

Sure enough, Falyse is indeed not in a good way. She’s crying, bruised, and her dress is torn, and the only thing she can say until Cersei gets a flagon of wine in her is “he killed him.” It turns out that this refers to Bronn, who killed Falyse’s husband Balman. Balman had the genius idea of challenging Bronn to single combat.

“He said it would be s-s-simple. The lance is a knight’s weapon, he said, and Bronn was no true knight.”

Classism here has done Balman in. Cersei immediately spots that Bronn’s not a knight, no, but someone who is very good at killing other people in a range of circumstances. Knights included. Bronn simply killed Balman’s horse (the poor horse!) and let the horse crush Balman. He then forced Balman to confess before finishing him off, hitting Falyse across the face, and ordering her to leave Stokeworth. Falyse’s guards told her that she should do as Lord Stokeworth said. So now Falyse is here, asking for Cersei’s help to retake Stokeworth. Cersei is less than pleased with the blithering idiots she called upon to quietly assassinate Bronn.

Who asked these particular blithering idiots to quietly assassinate Bronn, you ask? Let’s not dwell on those technicalities either.

The upshot of all this is that Cersei’s lost Stokeworth. She can’t send people to retake it, because she can’t risk fighting right outside King’s Landing under the circumstances. Instead she just has to take the L and work on damage control. Damage control here meaning that she just hands Falyse over to Qyburn. Truly, there are no other ways Cersei could obtain Falyse’s silence.

Alone again, Cersei repeats the sentiment that she’s surrounded by idiots. Even Jaime. She needs another drink to cope.

Thus fortified, Cersei’s narration heads back into self-justification. Bronn’s no more than an annoyance (then why assassinate him? Just because he pissed Cersei off? Sure, that’s reasonable) and she’ll swat him like a fly when she only has the chance. A bit of revenge fantasy, and then she decides she’s done thinking about Stokeworth.

So that’s definitely fixed then.

Taena had drifted back to sleep by the time the queen returned to the bedchamber, her head spinning. Too much wine and too little sleep, she told herself. It was not every night that she was awakened twice with such desperate tidings. At least I could awaken. Robert would have been too drunk to rise, let alone rule. It would have fallen to Jon Arryn to deal with all of this. It pleased her to think that she made a better king than Robert.

And thus ends a successful night of ruling for Cersei. But she’s not done with being king yet.

The King’s Rights

This chapter takes place in the course of a single night, and Cersei wants nothing more than to go back to bed. So we do learn a bit about Cersei’s sleeping habits and preferenes. She outright says that she doesn’t like sleeping alone, but on the flip side, she also hates other women just that much.

None [of Cersei’s bedmaids] had pleased her, and few lasted very long. Little sneaks, the lot of them. Vapid, weepy creatures, always telling tales and trying to worm their way between me and Jaime.

Chalk another one up for Cersei referring to women as non-humans. In this case, ‘creatures’. Anyway. Cersei hates her bedroom, because Robert would occasionally visit her in it, and notes that in terms of temperature Taena’s much the same as Robert with the bonus of no rape! Isn’t that nice. There is, however, another side to this:

Of late, [Taena] had shared the queen’s bed more often than Lord Merryweather’s. Orton did not seem to mind…or if he did, he knew better than to say so.

Not Cersei’s bed, the queen’s bed. The use of rank reminds the reader of the power differential. Cersei wants Taena there for her own comfort, and so Taena goes. In this case, it’s also a reminder of when and how a woman can overrule a man.

On the political intrigue front, the narrative also recounts just what Cersei tells Taena about what was said in that council. Oh, sure, Cersei tells Taena not to betray her trust, with a reminder that she can and will hand Taena over to Qyburn. Taena responds with a not suspicious at all declaration that the only reward for her service she wants is Cersei’s affection. “It pleases me to please you,” Taena says.

This is when Cersei starts thinking about Taena’s body. Note that a good chunk of this description is all in reference to Cersei’s own body - Taena’s breasts are larger than Cersei’s, Taena herself is younger than Cersei. It’s a sexual description, but remarkably free of attraction. What Cersei’s wondering is this:

She wondered what it would feel like to suckle on those breasts, to lay the Myrish woman on her back and push her legs apart and use her like a man would use her, the way Robert would use her when the drink was in him…

This prompts Cersei to think back to her sexual relationship with Robert, by which I mean his repeated rapes of her. She doesn’t use the word rape, but it’s nevertheless clear that this was what it was. Cersei did everything she could do avoid penetrative sex with Robert, instead trying to bring him to orgasm in other ways, knowing he’d fall asleep soon afterwards. She thinks of herself as helpless during the instances of penetrative sex, and what she recalls is that afterwards she was sore and that she’d only been aroused by him the one time in the course of their fifteen-year marriage.

Cersei raised this with Robert, and his response shows the depths of his moral cowardice:

“It was not me, my lady,” he said, in a sulky sullen tone, like a child caught stealing apple cakes from the kitchen. “It was the wine. I drink too much wine.” To wash down his admission, he reached for his horn of ale.

[…]

He did remember what he did to her at night, she was convinced of that. She could see it in his eyes. He only pretended to forget; it was easier to do that than to face his shame. Deep down, Robert Baratheon was a coward.

Cersei is dead right about that much.

There’s a brief interruption while Cersei deals with her second late-night meeting. When she comes back she picks up where she left off - thinking about rape. Then committing it, outright re-enacting what Robert did to her. She starts by pinching and twisting Taena’s breasts, something Cersei recounted that Robert did to her, and when Taena protests, Cersei says that it was the wine. So she continues hurting Taena,

“I am the queen. I mean to claim my rights.”

This is rape. The point in what Cersei’s doing was to rape Taena. She deliberately did not ask before initiating sexual content. She deliberately ignored Taena’s stated discomfort. She deliberately invoked her status as queen while continuing to touch Taena. While Taena might have been expecting Cersei to make sexual advances on her at some point, and while she might be aroused, neither of those things is consent to this scene. This was entirely Cersei’s point. She negated the possibility that Taena might consent, because she doesn’t want Taena’s consent.

Earlier in the chapter, Cersei thought ‘Ser Loras lusts for glory as real men lust for women.’ Which is classic toxic masculinity, complete with the homophobia inherent to that toxic masculinity. So here we see Cersei trying to be that ‘real man’ in raping Taena, as she herself was raped.

She gets no sexual pleasure from it, nor any peace. Cersei continues comparing herself to Robert, searching for whatever pleasure he got in violating her, hoping to understand why. All she finds is further contempt for Robert. The sex scene in the present is mixed with Cersei’s memories of the past - specifically in how Cersei cleaned up afterwards, imagining it as “eating Robert’s heirs.” Not even the most violent of Cersei’s fantasies can do anything for her sexually in this situation.

In the end, Cersei thinks that sex had only ever been good for her with Jaime (whose absence is understated but noticeable throughout the chapter, depriving Cersei of both the political and sexual partner she imagined). She does not allow Taena to touch her, rolls over, and goes back to sleep denying that this had ever happened.

Drunkenly raping her bedmate and deliberately forgetting/not-forgetting that it happened. Truly Cersei is a far better king than Robert.

Chapter Function

As far as who’s going where in places we don’t have PoVs but do have armed conflict, in this chapter we see the Ironborn advance Euron’s plans while the sieges of Storm’s End and Dragonstone are progressed. Narratively progressed, if not otherwise. We also get a major jump in Bronn’s subplot/running joke at Cersei’s expense, and further progress on Qyburn’s experiments.

Dealing with all these issues means that this is a hugely important chapter in depicting Cersei as a ruler. Her myopia, preconceived notions (fitting the facts to her theories, rather than allowing a theory to arise from facts), paranoia, cruelty, self-satisfaction and self-delusion combine here to create a freaking disaster. Several freaking disasters. Aside from, you know, an invasion, Cersei’s actions here continue her vendetta against the Tyrells, seriously compromising a coalition she needs in order to rule. And also loses her Stokeworth.

But most dramatically, we see how Cersei’s past affects her present. As much as she hates Robert, she also emulates him and seeks to exceed him specifically. Deliberately, in the case of her rape of Taena, in a search to understand her own trauma. Less deliberately in the case of the alcoholism. Other chapters in AFFC show how Cersei’s internalised the very worst of her father, reproducing all his flaws with very few of Tywin’s already-few virtues. This chapter shows how Cersei’s done the exact same with Robert.

There are few chapters in AFFC that show this comprehensively just how unfit Cersei is to rule, on every conceiveable level. This chapter hits just about every possible reason. It’s not without sympathy for her as a person, but it doesn’t change the fundamental point the narrative’s out to demonstrate. Cersei’s a terrible king and she shows no signs of ever getting any better. She cannot imagine how to be any better. She’s actively trying to be worse.

Miscellany

Just keeping track of what Cersei calls other people - note that she calls Margaery “my lady”. Margaery is the queen.

Of late, Cersei heard soft sounds, even in her own apartments. Mice in the walls, she would tell herself, no more than that.

I don’t know what’s going on with this, but there are a few possible explanations. One, paranoia. Two, they really are out to get her. Specifically Varys is out to get her, with his comprehensive knowledge of the Red Keep and desire to stoke Cersei’s paranoia as high as it will go.

Qyburn’s phrasing that the puppeteers Cersei gave to his custody are “quite used up” is fucking chilling.

Clothing Porn

None.

Food Porn

Bread, cheese, meat pie, and apples make a simple pre-torture meal for Falyse Stokeworth.

Next Three Chapters

Catelyn VI, ASoS - Bran II, ASoS - Tyrion V, ACoK

#ASoIaF #valyrianscrolls #revisiting chapters #cw: rape #cw: violence #cersei lannister #a feast for crows

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