Forest Love and Forest Lass – Chapter 9

Previous: Chapter 8 – Maester Yandel

Eddard Stark

When it comes to the topic of Ned, discussions in the audience hover around the question of whether or not his approach to politics was bad. It’s a discussion that can be heard from characters in the story, too, leaving no question about whether it’s a discussion worth having.

“You wear your honor like a suit of armor, Stark. You think it keeps you safe, but all it does is weigh you down and make it hard for you to move. Look at you now. You know why you summoned me here. You know what you want to ask me to do. You know it has to be done … but it’s not honorable, so the words stick in your throat.” (—Petyr to Ned, AGOT Eddard XIII)

Some of the most commonly disputed decisions Ned made include his decision to leave Winterfell and become the Hand of the King, his decision to trust Littlefinger, his decision to send Beric Dondarrion instead of Loras Tyrell to deliver Gregor Clegane to justice, and his managing of Cersei Lannister during the critical time before Robert’s death.

GrayArea

2020

I’m sorry. Ned Stark was politically stupid as fuck. He did not understand the Game of Thrones. He used honor as his shield. None of his enemies had honor. He needed informers, he needed to put his own men in positions of power. He was a baby lamb led to slaughter.

His uncle skills are the best I have seen tho. Not up for debate. [1]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAW3SIMYnUQ

u/abrigorber

41 points 2022

(…) people who say this was a stupid act completely ignore Ned’s goals. If he was aiming to gather further power to himself or he wanted to destroy the Lannisters – sure, then it was an idiot move. But these weren’t Ned’s goals – Ned was trying to protect Cersei’s children, and telling Cersei what he knew was the best way to do that. [[1](https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/uycb84/comment/ia4tvwc/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)%5D

Some readers come to Ned’s defense by pointing out that Ned was acting in accordance with some higher principle or another. Usually that principle is honor, justice, the protection of children, women or family. They’re values that Ned tried to teach to his children, and some passages in A Song of Ice and Fire frame the dilemmas that Ned’s children encounter in the context of what Ned would do.

“Which force would you command?”

“The horse,” he answered at once. Again like his father; Ned would always take the more dangerous task himself. (—Catelyn and Robb, AGOT Catelyn VIII)

With the Stark children being central to the story, some readers have a strong sense that the Stark family’s successes or failures indicate how Ned’s values are serving his children, family and friends after his death, and in which direction the thematic winds of A Song of Ice and Fire are blowing.

A common critique of Ned is that he deprived his daughters of certain kinds of education simply because they’re girls.

Gray: They got a shitty education.

Becks: Yeah. But, one would assume, you know obviously we don’t know too much, but Robb steps into the political situation pretty seamlessly despite his age, so, obviousl-

Gray: But they were training him to be Lord of Winterfell one day so-

Becks: Exactly. Exactly.

Gray: So he’s been under his dad, like in his dad’s shadow. You know because Bran and Robb, they go with Ned to do the beheading of-

Becks: Right.

Gray: And Jon goes as well. So they’ve been witness to it. They’ve seen what goes down. But Sansa and Arya are doing needlework and lady classes, so, their training and upbringing is a little different even though they still live in the same castle, just ’cause one has a vagina and the others don’t.

Becks: Well, and that’s like, you know, a huge failure. I feel like maybe a little bit more-so with Sansa, especially after Sansa is betrothed to Joffrey. But then again, Bran fell out the window pretty soon after that. But even Ned should have done something. Like when you meet Margaery, Margaery obviously had that education that Sansa didn’t have. [1]https://youtu.be/k7qPAPMJFvU?t=951

Swordfighting, military strategy, leadership skills, hunting, political strategy, matters of justice and corporal punishment are some of the things that Ned taught to his sons but not to his daughters, with an exception being that Ned did eventually hire Syrio Forel to train Arya at swordfighting.

Though Sansa never expresses interest in swordfighting, maybe skill with swords would have served Sansa as well as it serves Arya. Likewise, maybe the reason Sansa likes traditionally feminine activities is that she was conditioned that way by her parents and society. Had Sansa been more free to develop her own interests at a younger age, maybe she would have found as much enjoyment in swordfighting as Arya does.

On the other hand, maybe not. It’s possible that Ned’s critics in the audience underestimate the naturalness of the inclinations exhibited in Sansa, or the unnaturalness of the inclinations exhibited in Arya, or both.

The issue of gender roles is referenced directly from time to time in A Song of Ice and Fire, such as when some of Robb’s guards object to Dacey Mormont, a six-foot-tall woman who’s handy with a morningstar.

When he’d forced Catelyn to accept her protectors, she had insisted that he be guarded as well, and the lords bannermen had agreed. Many of their sons had clamored for the honor of riding with the Young Wolf, as they had taken to calling him. Torrhen Karstark and his brother Eddard were among his thirty, and Patrek Mallister, Smalljon Umber, Daryn Hornwood, Theon Greyjoy, no less than five of Walder Frey’s vast brood, along with older men like Ser Wendel Manderly and Robin Flint. One of his companions was even a woman: Dacey Mormont, Lady Maege’s eldest daughter and heir to Bear Island, a lanky six-footer who had been given a morningstar at an age when most girls were given dolls. Some of the other lords muttered about that, but Catelyn would not listen to their complaints. “This is not about the honor of your houses,” she told them. “This is about keeping my son alive and whole.” (—Thoughts of Catelyn, AGOT Catelyn X)

Some of the men complained that Dacey’s presence beside them in Robb’s guard dishonored their houses. Since Dacey is tall and has been practicing with a morningstar from a young age, she must be a competent enough fighter to protect Robb. So I tend to agree with Catelyn that the mens’ attitudes about gender roles and honor are interfering with the more important issue at hand — Robb’s protection.

These attitudes of the men in Robb’s guard seem to provide greater insight into Ned’s sense of honor, because they’re attitudes that most men in the setting share and Ned is a man. Since Ned was reluctant to permit Arya to train at combat, it seems likely that, like the men in Robb’s guard, Ned would have disapproved of Dacey Mormont’s presence in the guard, too. Perhaps Ned would have felt dishonored by having to share the role with a woman.

In this way, Ned’s sense of honor and the senses of honor of most of the noble men in Westeros may be revealed to be founded upon mens’ feelings of superiority over women. Thus, a woman’s presence in a traditionally masculine role discomforts men like Ned by threatening his power over women.

If Ned truly feels threatened by women being empowered with traditionally masculine skills and roles, then the passage about Dacey Mormont reveals that Ned’s neglect to teach Arya and Sansa those things was motivated by a compulsion to keep women powerless, even when those women are his own daughters.

And if Ned feels the compulsion to keep women powerless even when those women are children . . . the implications of that for the deeper psychology of Ned would be truly disturbing indeed.

This tension in the competing interpretations of Ned’s honor echoes the tensions in the competing interpretations of The Maiden of the Tree song. Does Forest Love feel a sense of entitlement to Forest Lass the same way Ned feels a sense of entitlement to having power over women? Or are Arya and Dacey deriving feelings of vengeful satisfaction from turning the tables of tradition against men like Forest Lass did against Forest Love? Whatever the case, the takeaway for us is roughly the same either way:

Discussions about Ned hover at a tension between Ned’s honor is good and Ned’s honor is foolish.

Promise Me, Ned

Out of all the sources of information about A Song of Ice and Fire’s central mysteries, there can be no question that, for the reader, Eddard Stark’s POV is the final authority: Ned was closely involved in the Knight of the Laughing Tree situation; He was friends with the crannogman Howland Reed; He knew Lyanna better than any other POV character available did; He led Robert’s Rebellion; He led the battle at the Tower of Joy; and he brought Jon Snow to Winterfell. Whatever the answers to these central mysteries are, they absolutely must make complete sense in the context of every single one of Ned’s thoughts, dreams and words surrounding them. So Ned’s thoughts, dreams and words are the gold standard by which any answer or set of answers to the central mysteries must be measured, because Ned is the only POV character available who knew approximately everything we wish to know.

That said, because of the relationship between Ned’s knowledge and the author’s desire to make the central mysteries difficult and long-lasting, Ned’s thoughts, dreams and words accommodate a great amount of conflict in interpretation. That makes them some of the most challenging codes in the story to crack. How exciting!

Throughout Ned’s chapters in A Game of Thrones, memories surface of an unspecified promise or promises that Lyanna asked Ned to make. Let’s look at three of those passages.

1 – Lyanna Was… Fond Of Flowers

In this scene, Robert and Ned are in the Winterfell crypts visiting the grave and statue of Lyanna Stark.

“She was a Stark of Winterfell,” Ned said quietly. “This is her place.”

“She should be on a hill somewhere, under a fruit tree, with the sun and clouds above her and the rain to wash her clean.”

“I was with her when she died,” Ned reminded the king. “She wanted to come home, to rest beside Brandon and Father.” He could hear her still at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister’s eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. After that he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his. Ned could recall none of it. “I bring her flowers when I can,” he said. “Lyanna was . . . fond of flowers.” (—Ned and Robert, AGOT Eddard I)

Ned implies that Lyanna asked to be buried in the Winterfell crypt. So ‘Bury me in the Winterfell crypt’ is a reasonable answer to the question of what the promise was about. Still, the intensely dramatic memories and imagery of blood, roses, fear and death make me think that answer is not good enough by itself, and they give me a lingering sense that there’s more to learn about what happened to Lyanna.

The room smells of blood and roses. The rose petals spilling from her palm shows me that the roses are really there, and so is the smell, so that gives me good reason not to stray from a literal reading of them.

Ned’s line “They had found him holding her body” tells me that Howland Reed was not the only other person in the scene with Ned and Lyanna. So there are questions like: ‘How many other people were there besides Ned, Lyanna and Howland? And who were they? And why were they there?’ This is particularly strange considering that Ned’s Tower of Joy dream depicts Ned and Howland as the only survivors of the Tower of Joy battle. But considering that Lyanna has been at the Tower of Joy for several months, it makes sense that there must be some servants to take care of basic things like cooking food, washing clothes and making baths.

Ned’s thoughts here also tell me that Lyanna had a fever. It seems safe to suppose that the blood in the scene came from Lyanna, because Lyanna is dying. But maybe it didn’t, so I’ll keep an open mind about the blood. If the blood in the scene came from Lyanna, then maybe blood loss is what caused her fever. But maybe it didn’t, so I’ll keep an open mind about the fever, too.

The dead black rose petals match symbolically with the air of death in the scene, and that symbolic meaning is good enough to explain why they’re black. They’re black because the author wanted to set a morbid mood. But it might be worth considering what practical meanings the black rose petals can have. Assuming that they weren’t black when they were brought here, they show me that they’ve been here for weeks or more. It also suggests a close association between death and whatever the rose petals represent. And since Lyanna was fond of flowers, it can be interpreted that flowers represent Lyanna, and so the association between death and flowers is Lyanna’s death.

Since the flowers are dead and black, their original color is unknown to the reader yet. But Ned’s Tower of Joy dream suggests that they were blue.

As they came together in a rush of steel and shadow, he could hear Lyanna screaming. “Eddard!” she called. A storm of rose petals blew across a blood-streaked sky, as blue as the eyes of death. (AGOT Eddard X)

The rose petals being in Lyanna’s palm suggests that they’re important to her in some way. Ned’s last line suggests a simple reason — that Lyanna was fond of flowers — but it doesn’t seem like a good enough reason to explain why Lyanna was clutching them in her dying moments. So there’s a lingering expectation that I’ll find out a better reason.

That brings me to Ned’s hesitation in the line “Lyanna was . . . fond of flowers.” Throughout A Song of Ice and Fire, these dots (also known as an ellipses) notates something missing or left unsaid. So the question is, what was it? What was happening in Ned’s mind to cause his hesitation? Was he struggling to find the right word? Was he going to say something different? Is there some context Ned has that I don’t have?

Well, the word “fond” has a certain significance in A Song of Ice and Fire. But for now, the takeaway is that There is a hidden significance in the association between Lyanna and flowers.

2 – As Lyanna Had Pleaded Once

At Littlefinger’s brothel in King’s Landing, Ned, Littlefinger and Catelyn met in secret to talk about the attempted murder of Bran involving a catspaw at Winterfell.

“Why should Tyrion Lannister want Bran dead? The boy has never done him harm.”

“Do you Starks have nought but snow between your ears?” Littlefinger asked. “The Imp would never have acted alone.”

Ned rose and paced the length of the room. “If the queen had a role in this or, gods forbid, the king himself … no, I will not believe that.” Yet even as he said the words, he remembered that chill morning on the barrowlands, and Robert’s talk of sending hired knives after the Targaryen princess. He remembered Rhaegar’s infant son, the red ruin of his skull, and the way the king had turned away, as he had turned away in Darry’s audience hall not so long ago. He could still hear Sansa pleading, as Lyanna had pleaded once. (—Ned and Petyr, AGOT Eddard IV)

Littlefinger places suspicion on House Lannister, and Ned considers if Robert had a role in the attack on Bran. Ned doesn’t believe Robert would do that because Robert is his close friend. But then Ned recalls three times when Robert disappointed him. One of those times reminded him of Lyanna.

Ned is remembering the recent events at the Trident, where Nymeria bit Prince Joffrey and Ned slew Sansa’s direwolf Lady on the orders of Queen Cersei and King Robert. The drama took place in House Darry’s audience hall, where Ned challenged Robert to carry out his own sentence.

“Do it yourself then, Robert,” he said in a voice cold and sharp as steel. “At least have the courage to do it yourself.”

Robert looked at Ned with flat, dead eyes and left without a word, his footsteps heavy as lead. Silence filled the hall. (AGOT Eddard III)

Ned’s challenge derives from the Stark values about justice — that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. It’s a principle that helps relegate harsh punishments such as execution to a last resort by preventing degrees of separation from forming between the passing of the sentence and the executing of it.

Much of the injustice of the situation in Darry’s hall has to do with the fact that the direwolf that is sentenced to die is not the direwolf that bit Joffrey. Worse, insofar as executing a direwolf might be a punishment for the direwolf’s owner, the girl who is being punished is not the offending direwolf’s owner, either. These two facts together prove that Cersei’s and Robert’s sentencing has nothing to do with making the world a better place (what we might call literal justice) and everything to do with making Cersei feel good (what we might call symbolic justice or revenge.) Robert demonstrates his awareness that the sentencing is not about literal justice when he rationalizes how killing Lady will make the world a better place:

“A direwolf is a savage beast. Sooner or later it would have turned on your girl the same way the other did on my son. Get her a dog, she’ll be happier for it.”

While it may be true that the direwolf would have turned on Sansa some day, this is not Robert’s or Cersei’s real reason for executing Lady. Robert adds this reason afterward because it’s grounded in something literal, and Robert is trying to evade his own conscientious objection to the fact that this instance of so-called justice is entirely symbolic.

When Ned tells Robert to at least have the courage to do it himself, Ned is framing the situation as an issue of courage versus cowardice. By doing so, he’s hanging the criticism of cowardice over Robert, contingent upon Robert following through with his order for Ilyn Payne to execute Lady, and he’s compelling Robert to execute Lady himself. This framing and compulsion from Ned indicates that Ned still has faith that Robert’s conscience will prevent him from executing Lady in the moment that Robert has to swing the sword.

I don’t suppose that Ned believes Robert has any fear about killing a direwolf in general. The source of Robert’s cowardice in the situation is one that Ned recognizes from he and Robert’s disagreement about trusting the Lannisters. Since Tywin Lannister has been funding Robert’s exhorbitant reign with Lannister gold, the crown is in massive debt to House Lannister and still relying upon Lannister gold, and that puts Robert in a position where he’s afraid to offend Lannisters.

“I have more concern for my nephew’s welfare than I do for Lannister pride,” Ned declared.

“That is because you do not sleep with a Lannister.” Robert laughed, the sound rattling among the tombs and bouncing from the vaulted ceiling. (—Ned and Robert, AGOT Eddard I)

So Robert’s cowardice is a weary kind of cowardice about avoiding conflict. He doesn’t want to deal with the tedious matters and quarrels that characterize the everyday life and responsibilities of living with Lannisters and being the king, especially when appeasing Cersei comes as cheaply as killing an animal.

Robert’s silent exit in response to the challenge to his courage contrasts so severely with his hot-headed and short-tempered nature as seen elsewhere that I’m left with the strong impression that Ned was right about Robert, and Robert knows it. And that’s why Robert walked away.

During the Lady trial, Sansa pleaded for Lady’s life.

That was when Sansa finally seemed to comprehend. Her eyes were frightened as they went to her father. “He doesn’t mean Lady, does he?” She saw the truth on his face. “No,” she said. “No, not Lady, Lady didn’t bite anybody, she’s good . . . ”

“Lady wasn’t there,” Arya shouted angrily. “You leave her alone!”

“Stop them,” Sansa pleaded, “don’t let them do it, please, please, it wasn’t Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you can’t, it wasn’t Lady, don’t let them hurt Lady, I’ll make her be good, I promise, I promise . . . ” She started to cry.

All Ned could do was take her in his arms and hold her while she wept. He looked across the room at Robert. His old friend, closer than any brother. “Please, Robert. For the love you bear me. For the love you bore my sister. Please.”

The king looked at them for a long moment, then turned his eyes on his wife. “Damn you, Cersei,” he said with loathing. (AGOT Eddard III)

Ned pleaded for Lady’s life, too, calling upon Robert’s love for him and Lyanna. That brings me back to Ned’s thoughts in the first passage.

He could still hear Sansa pleading, as Lyanna had pleaded once. (AGOT Eddard IV)

Ned connected Sansa’s pleading in the Lady incident to Lyanna’s pleading in the Tower of Joy incident. But why? Such a distant connection must have been triggered by some noteworthy commonality between the two incidents. So the question I’m left with is: ‘What is the commonality between Sansa’s pleading and Lyanna’s pleading?’

The obvious answer is “pleading.” But if that’s what triggered the connection in Ned’s mind, then why was Ned reminded of Lyanna’s pleading instead of Robb’s pleading? Robb pleaded with Ned to allow the Stark kids to keep the direwolf pups. Likewise, why was Ned reminded of Lyanna’s pleading instead of Catelyn’s pleading? Catelyn pleaded for Ned not to go to Winterfell after Bran fell. So the commonality being pleading is a shallow answer. It seems like the pleadings must be similar in a more significant way in order to have evoked the memory.

The takeaway is: There is a hidden commonality between Sansa’s and Lyanna’s pleading.

3 – The Price He’d Paid To Keep Them

In this passage, Ned’s investigation of Jon Arryn’s murder has brought him to Chataya’s brothel so that he can see one of King Robert’s bastards, a baby girl named Barra with black hair.

“I named her Barra,” she said as the child nursed. “She looks so like him, does she not, milord? She has his nose, and his hair . . . ”

“She does.” Eddard Stark had touched the baby’s fine, dark hair. It flowed through his fingers like black silk. Robert’s firstborn had had the same fine hair, he seemed to recall.

“Tell him that when you see him, milord, as it … as it please you. Tell him how beautiful she is.”

“I will,” Ned had promised her. That was his curse. Robert would swear undying love and forget them before evenfall, but Ned Stark kept his vows. He thought of the promises he’d made Lyanna as she lay dying, and the price he’d paid to keep them.

“And tell him I’ve not been with no one else. I swear it, milord, by the old gods and new. Chataya said I could have half a year, for the baby, and for hoping he’d come back. So you’ll tell him I’m waiting, won’t you? I don’t want no jewels or nothing, just him. He was always good to me, truly.”

She had smiled then, a smile so tremulous and sweet that it cut the heart out of him. Riding through the rainy night, Ned saw Jon Snow’s face in front of him, so like a younger version of his own. If the gods frowned so on bastards, he thought dully, why did they fill men with such lusts? (AGOT Eddard IX)

The baby looks a lot like Robert, even though the mother has red hair and freckles.

Ned thinks about the difference between the way he and Robert treat their promises. Robert makes promises haphazardly and he forgets them easily. Ned makes promises cautiously and he remembers to keep them.

One curious addition to the mystery that this passage makes is that the word “promises” tells me that Ned made more than one promise to Lyanna. I can be fairly confident from ‘Lyanna Was… Fond Of Flowers’ that one of the promises was to bury Lyanna in the Winterfell crypt. But what were the other promises?

Soon after Ned thinks about the promises he made to Lyanna, he thinks about Jon Snow. He thinks that Jon looks like a younger version of himself, and he wonders bitterly why the gods fill men with extra-marital lusts if they disapprove of bastards.

So one implication in this passage could be that another of the promises Ned made to Lyanna was about Jon Snow. That suggests that Jon is Lyanna’s son.

If Jon is the son of Lyanna and Rhaegar, then it makes sense that Jon’s dying mother would plead for Ned to promise to care for her baby and to protect him from Robert by claiming the baby as his own bastard. In that case, the sad irony of the situation is that, if Rhaegar and Lyanna married in secret, then Jon Snow is a trueborn child after all, who has to suffer the stigma against bastards only because he’s a Targaryen and Robert can’t let go of a grudge.

This interpretation resonates with some of the audience’s feelings about Robert.

u/DaemonT

25 points 2021

“Sooner or later there would always come a night when he would drink too much and want to claim his rights. What shamed him in the light of day gave him pleasure in the darkness.” (—Thoughts of Cersei, AFFC Cersei VII)

Now, dear Robert stans if, after this obvious proof of abuse, you still stand by your boy, I would like to know why. What makes rape and abuse palatable in the World of Ice and Fire?

Robert is introduced to the readers through the point-of-view of Ned. And since Ned and Robert are close friends, my initial tendency is to like Robert, too. But as A Game of Thrones progresses and the extent of Robert’s blunders as a king, husband, father and friend all come to light, Cersei’s thoughts three books later about Robert’s treatment of her in the bed chamber come across like a brand new low on an actively and retroactively downward character arc for Robert — the message being: ‘Look how many allowances readers are willing to make for the villainy of a character who made a good first impression with them.’ Or perhaps ‘Look how many allowances readers are willing to make for the villainy of a manly man.’

In that way, a thematic message of the character Robert Baratheon is echoed in R+L=J. The thinking goes that, upon the explicit reveal to the reader that R+L=J, Robert’s inability to let go of his grudge against Targaryens will be but yet another brand new low on Robert’s downward arc, his villainy this time having taken its toll on Jon, Ned and the whole Stark family.

So, since Jon having to suffer the stigma against bastards unduly is worse than Jon having to suffer it duly, Jon’s parents having married before conceiving him would do a better job of continuing the downward trend of Robert’s arc. This boost in meaning and its alignment with a thematic takeaway of Robert Baratheon lends credibility to the secret marriage version of R+L=J, because if Rhaegar and Lyanna did not marry, then Jon would truly be a bastard, and then the sad irony in Ned’s passage wouldn’t exist to help explain the price Ned paid to keep his promises and Ned’s bitter thoughts about the gods. Because, though a bastard having to suffer the bastard stigma is still sad, it is not ironic. The passage being infused with sadness plus irony would load it with more meaning than sadness without irony. And we’re trying to find out which interpretation of Jon’s parentage loads the passage with the most meaning.

To be thorough, some readers note that the sad irony works just as well if Jon Snow’s parents were not Rhaegar and Lyanna, but a different highborn woman with either Brandon Stark or Ned Stark, who also married. In those cases, Jon would still be a trueborn child who has to suffer the stigma against bastards unduly, but this time because he’s a trueborn Stark rather than a Targaryen. As in the R+L=J interpretation, the prices Ned paid to keep his promises in the B+A=J and N+A=J interpretations were much the same: Ned had to lie to Catelyn, Jon, his children and allow the dysfunctions from those lies to persist in his family in order to protect House Stark and the north from the future risk of claim disputes over Winterfell. In this passage, as in the Five Trueborn Children passage from chapter four of Forest Love and Forest Lass, the extra meaning in it is dependent upon Jon being trueborn and therefore Jon’s parents having married before conceiving him, regardless of which highborn couple they were.

That said, it’s possible that Jon suffering the stigma against bastards unduly is not a source of irony or the cause of Ned’s bitterness in this passage. Ned could be thinking about Jon Snow simply because his mind is on bastards and Jon is a bastard. Likewise, Ned’s bitterness may be about the unfairness of the stigma, such that he’s lamenting the condition of society or existence. In that interpretation, Jon is interchangeable with any other bastard, and that’s why Ned’s encounter with Robert’s bastard Barra caused him to think of Jon.

To conclude this passage, there’s a question in it about the reason why Ned thought of Jon. The answer that infuses the passage with the most meaning is that Jon is Lyanna’s and Rhaegar’s trueborn son, who Ned must pretend is his own bastard in order to protect Jon from Robert. The answer that infuses the passage with the second-most meaning is that Jon is Lyanna’s and Rhaegar’s bastard son.

So, even when we confine the possibilities of Jon’s parentage to Rhaegar and Lyanna, the married version of R+L=J infuses this passage with more meaning than the unmarried version, by aligning with a theme of Robert. For the second time in Forest Love and Forest Lass, the idea that Jon’s parents were a highborn man and woman who married has rendered more resilient than even the idea that Jon’s parents are Rhaegar and Lyanna. Rhaegar and Lyanna are both highborn, so the two ideas are not mutually exclusive and it doesn’t necessarily mean that Rhaegar and Lyanna are not Jon Snow’s parents. Nevertheless, it seems noteworthy that when the ideas are distinguished and treated as separate possibilities, they perform differently when infusing some of A Song of Ice and Fire’s most context-sensitive passages with meaning.

The Tower of Joy

And Now It Begins

The longest and most detailed account of the events at the Tower of Joy at the end of Robert’s Rebellion is provided to the reader in the form of Ned’s fever dream in the chapter AGOT Eddard X. With the events being portrayed in a dream, deriving from a memory fifteen years old, and the dreamer being sick, medicated and recovering from a grievous leg wound at the time, the reliability of the events could hardly be more in question. Still, it being a product of the mind that knows approximately everything I wish to know makes it, in many ways, king over all other accounts of the Tower of Joy. For the most part, the difficulty with it is in the subtext. Let’s dig in!

He dreamt an old dream, of three knights in white cloaks, and a tower long fallen, and Lyanna in her bed of blood.

In the dream his friends rode with him, as they had in life. Proud Martyn Cassel, Jory’s father; faithful Theo Wull; Ethan Glover, who had been Brandon’s squire; Ser Mark Ryswell, soft of speech and gentle of heart; the crannogman, Howland Reed; Lord Dustin on his great red stallion. Ned had known their faces as well as he knew his own once, but the years leech at a man’s memories, even those he has vowed never to forget. In the dream they were only shadows, grey wraiths on horses made of mist.

They were seven, facing three. In the dream as it had been in life. Yet these were no ordinary three. They waited before the round tower, the red mountains of Dorne at their backs, their white cloaks blowing in the wind. And these were no shadows; their faces burned clear, even now. Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, had a sad smile on his lips. The hilt of the greatsword Dawn poked up over his right shoulder. Ser Oswell Whent was on one knee, sharpening his blade with a whetstone. Across his whiteenameled helm, the black bat of his House spread its wings. Between them stood fierce old Ser Gerold Hightower, the White Bull, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

“I looked for you on the Trident,” Ned said to them.

“We were not there,” Ser Gerold answered.

“Woe to the Usurper if we had been,” said Ser Oswell.

“When King’s Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were.”

“Far away,” Ser Gerold said, “or Aerys would yet sit the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in seven hells.”

“I came down on Storm’s End to lift the siege,” Ned told them, “and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them.”

“Our knees do not bend easily,” said Ser Arthur Dayne.

“Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you might have sailed with him.”

“Ser Willem is a good man and true,” said Ser Oswell.

“But not of the Kingsguard,” Ser Gerold pointed out. “The Kingsguard does not flee.”

“Then or now,” said Ser Arthur. He donned his helm.

“We swore a vow,” explained old Ser Gerold.

Ned’s wraiths moved up beside him, with shadow swords in hand. They were seven against three.

“And now it begins,” said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light.

“No,” Ned said with sadness in his voice. “Now it ends.” As they came together in a rush of steel and shadow, he could hear Lyanna screaming. “Eddard!” she called. A storm of rose petals blew across a blood-streaked sky, as blue as the eyes of death.

“Lord Eddard,” Lyanna called again.

“I promise,” he whispered. “Lya, I promise . . . ”

“Lord Eddard,” a man echoed from the dark.

Groaning, Eddard Stark opened his eyes. Moonlight streamed through the tall windows of the Tower of the Hand.

“Lord Eddard?” A shadow stood over the bed.

“How . . . how long?” The sheets were tangled, his leg splinted and plastered. A dull throb of pain shot up his side.

“Six days and seven nights.” The voice was Vayon Poole’s. The steward held a cup to Ned’s lips. “Drink, my lord.” (AGOT Eddard X)

The most striking thing about this dream, to me, is how extremely sensitive it is to context. So much of the meanings hinge upon events that happened before this scene, shared understandings between the characters, and the nature of their relationships, that it’s hard to know how to interpret them. Many of the speaking parts in it take on totally different subtext by simply reading it in a different tone of voice. For example, Ned’s line “Now it ends” can make sense in either a threatening tone or a somber one, even though those tones would suggest very different things about what Ned is feeling, thinking, what happened before this and what the relationships between these characters might have been.

The interactions are so apparently pregnant with some shared understanding between Ned and the three Kingsguard that my overall impression of the dream is that this meeting and conflict was expected by everyone who speaks: Ned, Gerold, Oswell and Arthur. To begin a battle to the death with so little effort on the part of anybody except perhaps Ned to solve their problem using words strongly suggests that the problem took place long before this meeting, that it’s well beyond the possibility of a peaceful resolution, and that they all know it.

Ned says “Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone” and “I thought you might have sailed with him.” That can be read as though Ned is accusing the three Kingsguard of being cowards, or, that Ned is sad that they didn’t flee and that he has to fight them. But it can’t really be read as both. Which one do you think it is?

Oddly, Ned’s dream explicitly tells me that two details are literal rather than symbolic.

In the dream his friends rode with him, as they had in life.

They were seven, facing three. In the dream as it had been in life.

These lines help me rest assured about whether the event really happened, who was there, how many men were on each side, and which side of the fight each person was on.

The Rebel Side

  • Eddard Stark
  • Martyn Cassell
  • Theo Wull
  • Ethan Glover
  • Mark Ryswell
  • Howland Reed
  • Lord Dustin

The Targaryen Side

  • Gerold Hightower
  • Oswell Whent
  • Arthur Dayne

Without going into depth about these characters, one question I can ask about the Tower of Joy is ‘Why are there three Kingsguard, as opposed to one, two or four?’ It seems overkill for Rhaegar to have so many of his deadliest fighters devoted to guarding a fifteen-year-old girl and a tower in the middle of nowhere, especially while those Kingsguard could have been the difference between victory or defeat in the war by fighting at the Battle of the Trident, as Ned and Oswell point out in the dream.

“I looked for you on the Trident,” Ned said to them.

“We were not there,” Ser Gerold answered.

“Woe to the Usurper if we had been,” said Ser Oswell.

Ned’s line suggests that Ned was expecting more Kingsguard at the Battle of the Trident, and Oswell’s line might suggest that Oswell would have preferred fewer Kingsguard at the Tower of Joy and more at the Battle of the Trident. So these lines steer me away from the question “Why not four?” and toward the questions “Why not two? Or one? Or none?” What’s so important at the Tower of Joy that Rhaegar thinks it needs to be guarded by three of the seven best knights in the world?

If R+L=J, then maybe Rhaegar wanted to protect Lyanna and his son Jon. But since Rhaegar’s first son and heir Aegon was still alive in King’s Landing at the time, it might not make sense for Rhaegar to have placed the three Kingsguard at the Tower of Joy rather than at King’s Landing. On the other hand, the Tower of Joy is more vulnerable than the Red Keep, so it might make sense after all.

Gerold Hightower

In November 2012, a mobile application was released by the name of George R. R. Martin’s A World of Ice and Fire — A Game of Thrones Guide (henceforth AWOIAF). The app provided new tidbits of information that can’t be found in any of the previously published books. The information in it is considered semi-canon, because it was written by Martin’s co-authors from The World of Ice and Fire, Elio Garcia and Linda Antonsson, with input from Martin himself.

In the Rhaegar Targaryen section of AWOIAF, we learn that, after the Targaryen defeat in the Battle of the Bells, King Aerys sent his kingsguard commander Ser Gerold Hightower away from King’s Landing to find Rhaegar and return him to King’s Landing. Though Rhaegar eventually returned to King’s Landing, Gerold did not. Gerold was next seen at the Tower of Joy in Dorne, with Arthur Dayne and Oswell Whent, guarding Lyanna.

To judge by this information, it seems that when Gerold found Rhaegar at the Tower of Joy, Rhaegar told Gerold to stay and help guard it, and then departed for King’s Landing himself.

It’s a little strange that the commander of the kingsguard obeys a command that keeps him far away from the king he’s sworn to protect, and during dire times such as these. It seems even stranger considering that the command comes from Rhaegar, who the king believes is trying to usurp the throne from him. Though, it doesn’t seem much stranger than Oswell Whent and Arthur Dayne doing the very same thing.

Whatever is really going on here regarding these characters’ true loyalties and motivations, I notice that this new bit of information has the effect of highlighting a familiar-looking intrigue about the Tower of Joy: When Gerold arrived, Rhaegar left. In other words, when three guards became four, Rhaegar made it three again. What’s so important about the number three guards?

This information need not necessarily mean that the number of guards being three is important. For example, it’s possible that Rhaegar might have left the Tower of Joy before Gerold arrived if he had known he was wanted elsewhere without Gerold having told him that. Likewise, it’s possible that if Gerold had arrived without news that Rhaegar was wanted elsewhere, Rhaegar might have remained at the Tower of Joy longer, making the number of guards four instead of three. Still, this new detail about Gerold Hightower’s arrival and Rhaegar’s departure is the third time that my investigation into the Tower of Joy has led me to a suggestion that there is a hidden significance in the number of guards being three. So, what can three guards do at the Tower of Joy that one or two cannot?

The takeaway: There is a hidden reason why there were three Kingsguard at the Tower of Joy.

When All The Smiles Died

So far, Ned’s thoughts relating to A Song of Ice and Fire’s central mysteries have trickled onto the page gradually over the course of A Game of Thrones. In Ned’s final POV chapter ever, Eddard XV, he’s sitting in a dark prison cell beneath the Red Keep, delirious with hunger, thirst and solitude, and awaiting likely execution.

As if to imitate the posthumous boon quality of other of Ned’s last deeds, A Game of Thrones rewards us with one final massive gift from the thoughts of Ned. Many of the people and events in the central mysteries we’re investigating appear all together in the span of five paragraphs; The Tourney at Harrenhal, Promise me Ned, Rhaegar crowning Lyanna the queen of love and beauty and more.

When All The Smiles Died

He could no longer tell the difference between waking and sleeping. The memory came creeping upon him in the darkness, as vivid as a dream. It was the year of false spring, and he was eighteen again, down from the Eyrie to the tourney at Harrenhal. He could see the deep green of the grass, and smell the pollen on the wind. Warm days and cool nights and the sweet taste of wine. He remembered Brandon’s laughter, and Robert’s berserk valor in the melee, the way he laughed as he unhorsed men left and right. He remembered Jaime Lannister, a golden youth in scaled white armor, kneeling on the grass in front of the king’s pavilion and making his vows to protect and defend King Aerys. Afterward, Ser Oswell Whent helped Jaime to his feet, and the White Bull himself, Lord Commander Ser Gerold Hightower, fastened the snowy cloak of the Kingsguard about his shoulders. All six White Swords were there to welcome their newest brother.

Yet when the jousting began, the day belonged to Rhaegar Targaryen. The crown prince wore the armor he would die in: gleaming black plate with the three-headed dragon of his House wrought in rubies on the breast. A plume of scarlet silk streamed behind him when he rode, and it seemed no lance could touch him. Brandon fell to him, and Bronze Yohn Royce, and even the splendid Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning.

Robert had been jesting with Jon and old Lord Hunter as the prince circled the field after unhorsing Ser Barristan in the final tilt to claim the champion’s crown. Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty’s laurel in Lyanna’s lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost.

Ned Stark reached out his hand to grasp the flowery crown, but beneath the pale blue petals the thorns lay hidden. He felt them clawing at his skin, sharp and cruel, saw the slow trickle of blood run down his fingers, and woke, trembling, in the dark.

Promise me, Ned, his sister had whispered from her bed of blood. She had loved the scent of winter roses.

“Gods save me,” Ned wept. “I am going mad.”

The gods did not deign to answer. (AGOT Eddard XV)

The memory begins in an idealized place, like the beginning of a story. Ned is young and happy, the days are warm, the nights are cool and the wine is sweet. I can imagine the manic joy in Robert’s face during the melee. Even Jaime’s happiness is part of the nostalgia, despite how familiar we are with Ned’s contempt for him. This is a memory from a time before Ned had a reason to dislike Jaime. My sense is that all is well with the world.

Then the memory moves to Rhaegar’s spectacular performance in the jousting tournament. “The crown prince wore the armor he would die in” is an unexpectedly morbid line in an otherwise happy memory so far, but at least it tells me what Rhaegar was wearing at the Battle of the Trident. According to legend, the rubies on this breastplate were knocked free by Robert’s warhammer and fell into the river, which is how the Ruby Ford got its name. (That’s the place whereabouts Arya’s direwolf Nymeria bit Joffrey.)

Robert had been jesting with Jon and old Lord Hunter as the prince circled the field after unhorsing Ser Barristan in the final tilt to claim the champion’s crown. Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty’s laurel in Lyanna’s lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost.

Rhaegar wins the tournament and then he circles the field in a sort of victory lap. I imagine he’s happy that he won. Maybe this victory lap is standard practice in tournaments, in order to put on a good show for the audience.

Since Rhaegar won’t have carried the champion’s crown with him during the joust, he must have rode over to the Whent family where the crown was removed from the defending queen of love and beauty, Lord Whent’s daughter, and then perhaps placed on Rhaegar’s lance.

Rhaegar rode past his wife Elia and toward the Stark family, and placed the crown of pale blue winter roses in Lyanna’s lap. I imagine he remained seated on his horse and let the crown slide off the lance. Then all the smiles died, and I can see the reactions of some characters in The World of Ice and Fire: The Year of the False Spring. Brandon was outraged and needed to be restrained. Ned was quiet but displeased. Robert laughed about it publicly and said that Rhaegar only paid Lyanna her due, but he brooded about it in private.

It’s curious that we never hear about Elia’s reaction. Elia is presumably the most aggrieved person in the situation. Her husband did something extremely insulting to her in front of practically all the lords and ladies of the realm. It seems fair to assume that Elia was offended by it, but the longer the story foregoes opportunities to give me the slightest indication of how Elia received the controversy, the more suspicious I become that the story is hiding it. On the part of the author, I can imagine that one possible reason for hiding information is that the truth of it is not what I expect it to be.

The first takeaway: A Song of Ice and Fire is hiding Elia Martell’s reaction to Rhaegar crowning Lyanna the queen of love and beauty.

He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost.

This line helps me rest assured that the color of the roses on the crown was definitely blue.

Ned Stark reached out his hand to grasp the flowery crown, but beneath the pale blue petals the thorns lay hidden. He felt them clawing at his skin, sharp and cruel, saw the slow trickle of blood run down his fingers, and woke, trembling, in the dark.

It isn’t clear whether this part is literal or symbolic, until I consider that it wouldn’t make much sense for the Tournament organizers not to remove the thorns. This laurel is supposed to be handled and worn on someone’s head, after all. So this part is definitely symbolic.

This part being symbolic in addition to the “and woke” part both show me that this is no memory. The whole passage so far has been a dream. In the very first line of this passage, Ned warned me that this might be the case:

He could no longer tell the difference between waking and sleeping. The memory came creeping upon him in the darkness, as vivid as a dream.

Since the thorns are symbolic, what do the thorns symbolize? The thorns are a hidden danger to Ned that harms him. It’s something dangerous concealed by something beautiful, its beauty making it that much more dangerous.

The second takeaway: There is a hidden way that the crown of blue roses is dangerous to Ned.

Eddard Stark Summary

  • Discussions about Ned hover at a tension between Ned’s honor is good and Ned’s honor is foolish.
  • There is a hidden significance in the association between Lyanna and flowers.
  • There is a hidden commonality between Sansa’s and Lyanna’s pleading.
  • There is a hidden reason why there were three Kingsguard at the Tower of Joy.
  • A Song of Ice and Fire is hiding Elia Martell’s reaction to Rhaegar crowning Lyanna the queen of love and beauty.
  • There is a hidden way that the crown of blue roses is dangerous to Ned.

Next: Chapter 10 – Rhaegar Targaryen


Updated Dec 23, 2022 – Added Gerold Hightower AWOIAF

Forest Love and Forest Lass – Chapter 8

Previous: Chapter 7 – POV: Crannogman

Maester Yandel

In chapter two I divided the sources of information for the Tourney at Harrenhal into three main sources: Meera Reed, Maester Yandel, and everybody else. Each source provides criteria for the identity of the Knight of the Laughing Tree, for the reason Rhaegar crowned Lyanna the queen of love and beauty, for the relationship between those two mysteries, and for the narrative cohesion of A Song of Ice and Fire as a whole. So grab your copy of The World of Ice and Fire and turn to The Fall of the Dragons: The Year of the False Spring (p124), and let’s see what Maester Yandel has to contribute to the mysteries.

Overview: The Fluff Is The Point

The Year of the False Spring is a chapter that takes up four pages in The World of Ice and Fire. I was brought to Yandel’s writings by The Two Mysteries, but I notice that Yandel doesn’t talk about either one of them until the third page. He spends the first two and a half pages describing the political climate as it was before the Tourney at Harrenhal and leading up to it. So rather than helping me resolve mysteries, Yandel spends the first two and a half pages introducing several more. How frustrating!

There is a mystery about a “shadow host” who paid for the tourney, there’s some drama between Aerys and Rhaegar, there are mysteries about the involvement of certain characters such as Oswell Whent and Jon Connington, and more.

When Yandel finally arrives at the topic of the Knight of the Laughing Tree, my patience is punished with descriptions that I already knew from Meera’s story… and rewarded with one word of description that I didn’t!

Two incidents must not be passed over, however, for they would prove to have grave consequences.

The first was the appearance of a mystery knight, a slight young man in ill-fitting armor whose device was a carved white weirwood tree, its features twisted in mirth. The Knight of the Laughing Tree, as this challenger was called, unhorsed three men in successive tilts, to the delight of the commons.

King Aerys II was not a man to take any joy in mysteries, however. His Grace became convinced that the tree on the mystery knight’s shield was laughing at him, and—with no more proof than that— decided that the mystery knight was Ser Jaime Lannister. His newest Kingsguard had defied him and returned to the tourney, he told every man who would listen.

Furious, he commanded his own knights to defeat the Knight of the Laughing Tree when the jousts resumed the next morning, so that he might be unmasked and his perfidy exposed for all to see. But the mystery knight vanished during the night, never to be seen again. This too the king took ill, certain that someone close to him had given warning to “this traitor who will not show his face.” (—Yandel, TWOIAF)

Yandel tells me that the Knight of the Laughing Tree was slight. So that’s where slight comes from on the list of criteria for the knight’s identity.

Then Yandel describes The Mad King’s perspective on the Knight of the Laughing Tree. Aerys was suspicious of the mystery knight and wanted to unmask him.

Then Yandel talks about more drama between Rhaegar and Aerys before finally arriving at Rhaegar crowning Lyanna the queen of love and beauty:

And when the triumphant Prince of Dragonstone named Lyanna Stark, daughter of the Lord of Winterfell, the queen of love and beauty, placing a garland of blue roses in her lap with the tip of his lance, the lickspittle lords gathered around the king declared that further proof of his perfidy. Why would the prince have thus given insult to his own wife, the Princess Elia Martell of Dorne (who was present), unless it was to help him gain the Iron Throne? The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia’s delicate beauty, could only have been meant to win the allegiance of Winterfell to Prince Rhaegar’s cause, Symond Staunton suggested to the king.

Yet if this were true, why did Lady Lyanna’s brothers seem so distraught at the honor the prince had bestowed upon her? Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell, had to be restrained from confronting Rhaegar at what he took as a slight upon his sister’s honor, for Lyanna Stark had long been betrothed to Robert Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End. Eddard Stark, Brandon’s younger brother and a close friend to Lord Robert, was calmer but no more pleased. As for Robert Baratheon himself, some say he laughed at the prince’s gesture, claiming that Rhaegar had done no more than pay Lyanna her due … but those who knew him better say the young lord brooded on the insult, and that his heart hardened toward the Prince of Dragonstone from that day forth.

And well it might, for with that simple garland of pale blue roses, Rhaegar Targaryen had begun the dance that would rip the Seven Kingdoms apart, bring about his own death and thousands more, and put a welcome new king upon the Iron Throne. (—Yandel, TWOIAF)

Yandel tells me things I already know, plus some things that don’t seem particularly helpful. Rhaegar crowning Lyanna the queen of love and beauty was a big controversy that marked the beginning of Robert’s Rebellion, which would result in the end of the Targaryen dynasty. No duh!

With the coming of the new year, the crown prince had taken to the road with half a dozen of his closest friends and confidants, on a journey that would ultimately lead him back to the riverlands. Not ten leagues from Harrenhal, Rhaegar fell upon Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, and carried her off, lighting a fire that would consume his house and kin and all those he loved—and half the realm besides.

But that tale is too well-known to warrant repeating here. (—Yandel, TWOIAF)

Then Yandel says Rhaegar and friends fell upon Lyanna in the riverlands and carried her off.

I know from the main series that the in-story official narrative of these events is that Rhaegar kidnapped and raped Lyanna. Here, Maester Yandel ends his account of history rather suddenly, apparently relying on the commonness of this knowledge in order to relieve himself of the necessity to mention the rape. In fact, Yandel has neglected to even mention the kidnapping, instead saying that Rhaegar “fell upon Lyanna” and “carried her off.”

If I hadn’t already known about the kidnap and rape narrative from other sources, Yandel’s description of events (or lackthereof) would have me scratching my head right now. Does “fell upon Lyanna” mean he simply found Lyanna, or that he physically subdued her with his body? If it’s the first interpretation, that’s far short of a description of rape, and it implies that Rhaegar was not even searching for Lyanna when he found her. If it’s the second interpretation, then the word “fell” implies that Rhaegar’s fall was an accident, as though he happened upon her by chance or stumbled into her. Either way, the phrase doesn’t necessarily align with the official narrative, and it doesn’t necessarily contradict it, either. But it seems noteworthy that Yandel won’t simply say there was a kidnapping and rape.

Similarly, does the phrase “carried her off” mean Rhaegar forcefully restrained and lifted her body? Or does it mean Rhaegar took her into custody and seated her on a horse that was tied to his horse? The phrase is so vague that it doesn’t even preclude the possibility that Lyanna went with Rhaegar willingly, perhaps being carried off after Rhaegar romantically swept her off her feet. So, once again, Yandel’s description doesn’t necessarily align with the official narrative, yet it still accommodates the official narrative so long as I already know what the offical narrative is.

At worst, Yandel’s descriptions depict Rhaegar taking Lyanna into custody as a prisoner, and at best, they depict a romantic rendezvous. Maybe Yandel is simply being tasteful by omitting the ugliness in the situation, even if being tasteful necessitates omitting factual events as important to history as the crown prince kidnapping and raping a princess of a great house.

Many readers express a strong sense that the kidnap-and-rape narrative of Rhaegar and Lyanna is either false or incomplete.

u/ChrisV2P2

10 points 2017

A repeating theme in ASOIAF is the agency of women and how it is oppressed by the patriarchal structure. Lyanna is a huge example of this right at the center of the story. She is “abducted” by Rhaegar (almost certainly going willingly) and “raped” (bears him children consensually). She probably wanted to marry him and may actually have done so. An entire rebellion was fought with her right in the middle of it, yet the accounts of it have very obviously and conspicuously written her out of the story.

So this fits in narratively, because it’s Lyanna being literally “anonymized”, being right in the thick of events and going down in history as a big fat question mark. It fits in both with Lyanna and with the general theme in the story of the deeds of women being downplayed and marginalized. [1]

We may not know for certain precisely how, why, or to what extent the kidnap-and-rape narrative is wrong, but enough things in the story call that narrative into question that the only possibility that seems to make no sense at all is that the kidnap-and-rape narrative is a complete and true characterization of events. For example, look at Ned’s thoughts about the man who Ned supposedly believes kidnapped and raped his sister.

For the first time in years, he found himself remembering Rhaegar Targaryen. He wondered if Rhaegar had frequented brothels; somehow he thought not. (—Thoughts of Eddard, AGOT Eddard IX)

I’m supposed to believe that Ned believes that Rhaegar would kidnap and rape a maiden, yet that patroning brothels is beneath Rhaegar? Those two attitudes simply do not make sense together within the same mind, especially considering that the maiden was Ned’s younger sister and that Ned thinks negatively about men who patron brothels.

“A brothel?” Ned said. “The Lord of the Eyrie and Hand of the King visited a brothel with Stannis Baratheon?” He shook his head, incredulous, wondering what Lord Renly would make of this tidbit. (AGOT Eddard VI)

So, there’s definitely some funny business going on here, and Yandel’s inconclusive but-everybody-knows-that-story conclusion at the precise moment of the alleged kidnap-and-rape sounds a lot like one more alarm bell added to a chorus of similar sounding alarms regarding the truthfulness of the kidnap-and-rape narrative. In context of the many ways in which Maester Yandel writes history with pro-Robert and anti-Aerys slants, Maester Yandel’s evasiveness about saying Rhaegar kidnapped and raped Lyanna might suggest that that description of what happened between Rhaegar and Lyanna is so heinous a lie that Maester Yandel would rather sidestep the issue entirely than to have such a lie in his work and on his conscience.

With history written this way, Yandel leaves whatever happened between Rhaegar and Lyanna to be told by somebody else, relying on the ambiguity in the phrases “fell upon Lyanna” and “carried her off” to accommodate the kidnap-and-rape narrative without necessarily spreading it himself.

With the Year of the False Spring chapter structured this way, and after my frustrations with it have subsided, I’m able to notice that the general impression Yandel has left me with is that the information I didn’t come seeking is more important than the information I did. In other words, the fluff is the point.

A search for a humble mystery knight has caused me to stumble upon a mystery about the Tourney at Harrenhal’s very inception, involving some of the most powerful people in the realm, and perhaps a secret and dangerous plot to supplant the King. And, if I’m not mistaken, I detect that Maester Yandel is … afraid.

Reading and Writing Between The Lines

As I read Yandel’s writings, I notice that there is a lot of text that tells me what to think rather than what happened.

We have no shred of evidence that such a “shadow host” ever existed, but the notion was widely believed at the time and remains so today. (—Yandel, TWOIAF)

Yandel’s dramatization in the phrase “no shred of evidence” as opposed to “no evidence” is the kind of thing I’m talking about. He does it again when he says “ever existed” rather than “existed.” These choices by Yandel are two among several word choices in The Year of the False Spring chapter that, all together, show me that for some reason Yandel wants to control my perception of these things, as opposed to presenting the plain facts for me to perceive as I will.

the lickspittle lords gathered around the king (—Yandel, TWOIAF)

Lickspittle lords. He’s a real paragon of neutrality in this chapter, this Maester Yandel.

and put a welcome new king upon the Iron Throne. (—Yandel, TWOIAF)

No doubt that the “welcome new king” would have been called usurper in this self same book had the rebels lost the war rather than won it. To say nothing of the quality of Aerys or Robert’s reign, Maester Yandel is covering his ass by writing history in a way that appeases the current King.

Many tales have grown up around Lord Whent’s tournament: tales of plots and conspiracies, betrayals and mysteries, almost all of it conjecture. (—Yandel, TWOIAF)

“Almost all of it conjecture” is another phrase that doesn’t change the meaning of the sentence, but it does some work to guide my perception. Maybe Yandel simply wants his readers to approach history with a discerning mind. That’s a noble pursuit for any historian. Or maybe Yandel is hiding something. That could also be a noble pursuit, but not so from a historian.

If Yandel is trying to control how I perceive these events, or trying to be sneaky with his writing for any reason, isn’t it a little strange how terrible of a job he’s doing at it?

Everybody believed this thing at the time and still believes it today, but rest assured that there is no shred of evidence to ever even whatsoever exist!

There are many mysterious tales told about Lord Whent’s tournament, but all of it is conjecture … (except, of course, for the dozens of tales that I’m telling you right now because I am the only trustworthy source of information in the world.)

Maester Yandel’s attempts to control my perceptions are so obvious that they’re comical.

Many songs and stories are told of those days and nights beside the Gods Eye. Some are even true. To recount every joust and jape is far outside our purpose here. (—Yandel, TWOIAF)

This part is so absurd that I couldn’t help but to laugh. ‘Most of the things people say are false, but some few of them are true. Aren’t you glad I’m here to do your thinking for you?’ The line about not recounting every joust and jape is particularly funny considering that my reason for visiting Yandel’s writings in the first place was to investigate a mystery knight in the jousts. Considering that, Yandel’s line begins to sound like ‘You know that thing you’re looking for? You definitely won’t find it here. Run along now.’

The Year of the False Spring chapter notwithstanding, Yandel’s work on The World of Ice and Fire is, on the whole, a wonderful and intelligent account of history. So since Yandel is being obvious in his attempts to control how I think about the events in The Year of the False Spring, then it stands to reason that he’s being obvious on purpose. Surely, Yandel knew that phrases like “there is no shred of evidence” and “some are even true” would chafe the intellect of his readers, who won’t appreciate having the facts distorted by Yandel’s attempts to shape their perceptions.

Yandel’s intentional clumsiness with these phrases is because Yandel is trying to avoid being censored by the king in power and his retainers. Yandel began writing this book in the ninth year of King Robert I Baratheon’s reign. In light of that, I can see that Yandel is trying to provide the reader with the truth as best he can, considering his circumstances, and the phrase “almost all of it conjecture” is only there to protect the truth (and Yandel’s neck) so that Yandel is not commanded to remove the whole sentence, paragraph, chapter and book. The clumsiness of the phrase is meant to grab the reader’s attention and signal to us that this uncharacteristic decrease in quality in Yandel’s writing marks a chapter in which we should read between the lines.

As it happens, I already know of some plots, conspiracies, betrayals and mysteries surrounding the Tourney at Harrenhal, such as Rhaegar’s betrayal of Elia and the Knight of the Laughing Tree mystery. In fact, that’s what brought me to Yandel’s writings in the first place. So I’m able to verify the sentence as true, tipping the scales of uncertainty so that I can safely forego the possibility that Yandel is hiding things because he wants to, and leaving me holding the other two truthful possibilities. Either Yandel wants me to approach history with a discerning mind, or he’s trying to provide as much truth as he can without getting censored, or both. In this way, Yandel’s line about plots, conspiracies, betrayals and mysteries is his way of saying “Pssst! Over here.” to any sleuthing readers who’ve caught the scent of one of those plots, conspiracies, betrayals and mysteries. By golly, that’s us!

The Shadow Host

But if indeed there was a shadow, who was he, and why did he choose to keep his role a secret? A dozen names have been put forward over the years, but only one seems truly compelling: Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone. (—Yandel, TWOIAF)

Yandel tells me that a dozen names have been put forward for the identity of the shadow host, and then he omits eleven of them. This is a staggering omission from somebody who purports to serve up a full and factual account of history to the best of his ability. The phrase “truly compelling” is more perception control. I can decide for myself what seems truly compelling, thank you very much. Just tell me the facts Maester Yandel.

Considering that Yandel’s omission of the names of the eleven conspirators is protecting some truth as best he can, the fact that a dozen names have been put forward for the identity of the shadow host is a significant truth all by itself. For one thing, the number is going to change the way I approach the shadow host mystery greatly compared to the way I would have approached it if I thought the shadow host was one person. For another thing, a dozen is a specific number. The number itself might carry enough relevance to guide my attention where Yandel means to guide it.

A question I draw from these lines is ‘Why does Yandel focus my attention on Rhaegar and away from the other eleven suspects for the shadow host?’ Most rumors have at least a seed of truth to them, so why does Yandel disregard the rumors so casually?

On one hand, if so many people believe there was a shadow host and they’ve put forward so many different names, that could indicate that ‘the people’ are not credible. Why should anybody believe the rumors of various unnamed people if the people apparently can’t get their story straight?

On the other hand, people in general are generally acting as individuals rather than as a unified collective of conspirators themselves. I can imagine myself in the conspirator’s shoes. If I were a co-conspirator and I wanted to hide that I was part of a dangerous conspiracy involving a dozen powerful people, then portraying the various unnamed people as ‘a unified collective that can’t even get its story straight‘ would be a good way to discredit those rumors. In that case, each of the eleven omitted shadow hosts is one-twelfth of the truth, and the whole truth is that all of them were involved.

This could explain why Maester Yandel focuses my attention on Rhaegar: Because on the surface it seems intended to subtract my attention from the other eleven conspirators, yet reveals a key piece of information to keen eyes — there were exactly twelve conspirators in all, and one of them was Rhaegar Targaryen.

The twelve conspirators possibility can explain the tourney’s triple-sized prizes as well or better than the possibility that Rhaegar shadow-hosted the tourney alone does, because the gold would be divided across twelve people. That would bring the costs down to a more bearable burden for each conspirator. With the burden reduced, each conspirator could more easily part with the money without drawing too much suspicion from the household guards and servants that surround him — households that might otherwise have noticed a change in their lord’s spending or frugality around the time of the Tourney at Harrenhal.

With a twelve-way division of conspiracy, the reason Maester Yandel distributes all of the blame to Rhaegar for shadow-hosting the Tourney at Harrenhal is obvious. Rhaegar is dead, and House Targaryen is ruined. Who better for the other eleven conspirators to hoist the blame onto than a conspirator who died? Better still, Rhaegar happened to be the crown prince, leaving little room for doubt that he could afford to fund a tournament as lavish as the Tourney at Harrenhal and its prizes that were triple the size of those at the Lannisport Tourney.

Yandel is tip-toeing around the present-day political interests of King Robert and ten or eleven powerful houses, whose conspiracy to overthrow King Aerys apparently went terribly wrong when Rhaegar crowned Lyanna the queen of love and beauty.

Unassuming Clues

Amidst the fluff, there are many minor intrigues that an all-encompassing set of solutions to A Song of Ice and Fire’s central mysteries absolutely must accommodate. Because of that, even the most minor of them could turn out to be the difference between solving everything and solving nothing. So I need to take a close look at them.

Not Ten Leagues From Harrenhal

With the coming of the new year, the crown prince had taken to the road with half a dozen of his closest friends and confidants, on a journey that would ultimately lead him back to the riverlands. Not ten leagues from Harrenhal, Rhaegar fell upon Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, and carried her off, lighting a fire that would consume his house and kin and all those he loved—and half the realm besides. (—Yandel, TWOIAF)

This description of Rhaegar and Lyanna’s fateful encounter in the riverlands is the most precise description available in the entire series of where the encounter happened, even though it is not very precise at all. “Not ten leagues from Harrenhal?” Does that mean nine leagues or one league? And in which direction from Harrenhal is it?

Without a doubt, if I ever did learn where, precisely, Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna, the first thing I would do is reread every chapter in the series that takes place at or near that spot in the hopes of finding some literary allusion, phrase, imagery, or symbolism that marks the town, tavern, forest or place where the kidnapping happened, if not provides another clue to what exactly happened there all those years ago.

Still, this line from Yandel is a much welcome addition to the mystery that must needs help me in finding the precise spot where Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna, in order for the line to explain its own existence.

My takeaway here is simply that Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna not ten leagues from Harrenhal.

Stark Reactions

As I read The Year of the False Spring chapter, the Stark family makes a small cameo appearance in the histories that causes me to lean a little closer, smile and say ‘Hey, I know them!’

The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia’s delicate beauty, could only have been meant to win the allegiance of Winterfell to Prince Rhaegar’s cause, Symond Staunton suggested to the king.

Yet if this were true, why did Lady Lyanna’s brothers seem so distraught at the honor the prince had bestowed upon her? Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell, had to be restrained from confronting Rhaegar at what he took as a slight upon his sister’s honor, for Lyanna Stark had long been betrothed to Robert Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End. Eddard Stark, Brandon’s younger brother and a close friend to Lord Robert, was calmer but no more pleased. As for Robert Baratheon himself, some say he laughed at the prince’s gesture, claiming that Rhaegar had done no more than pay Lyanna her due … but those who knew him better say the young lord brooded on the insult, and that his heart hardened toward the Prince of Dragonstone from that day forth. (—Yandel, TWOIAF)

Since the real world authors of The World of Ice and Fire must know that the search for clues to A Song of Ice and Fire’s central mysteries about Rhaegar, Lyanna, Jon and the Knight of the Laughing Tree are likely to be what attracts the reader to The Year of the False Spring chapter, I can see that my love for both the Starks and for the central mysteries is a connective tissue between them. In this way, the Starks’ reactions and the mysteries are brought together, suggesting that these unassuming reactions from the Starks at the tourney are this chapter’s most potent clues of all.

  • Brandon took it as a slight to Lyanna’s honor because Lyanna had long been betrothed to Robert, so Brandon had to be restrained.
  • Ned was calmer but no more pleased.
  • Robert laughed about it in public, but brooded on the insult in private.

These reactions match with what I already know about the personalities of these characters. Brandon is often described in terms approximating wild and hot-headed. Ned is often depicted as being calm, collected and judging. Robert is depicted as being boistrous yet likeable, while having a great capacity to hold a grudge.

However, since I’m already so familiar with these characters and their personalities, the addition of these reactions on the part of George R. R. Martin seems to demand an explanation of his intentions for including them that’s more substantive than mere character building. My familiarity, itself, is sufficient evidence that no more character building needed to be done, here, for Brandon, Ned and Robert. So if that isn’t Martin’s purpose for including these reactions, what else could his purpose be?

My takeaway here is that ‘There is a hidden significance in the differences between Brandon, Ned and Robert’s reactions to Rhaegar crowning Lyanna the queen of love and beauty.’

There are many more minor mysteries in Maester Yandel’s The Year of the False Spring chapter to bring into the investigation of The Relationship Between The Two Mysteries. Some of those are the involvements of Oswell Whent and Jon Connington. Even the very phrase that’s used to describe the year 281 AC — The Year of the False Spring — seems to demand an in-story explanation more significant than the seasonal anomaly explanation that Yandel provides. But in the interest of time and for the purposes of Forest Love and Forest Lass, we’ve extracted enough from Maester Yandel to press forward with The Relationship Between The Two Mysteries.

Maester Yandel Summary:

  • The Knight of the Laughing Tree was slight according to Maester Yandel.
  • Maester Yandel’s history of The Year of the False Spring is biased for Robert and against Aerys.
  • Including Rhaegar, twelve powerful people funded the Tourney at Harrenhal and conspired to overthrow King Aerys II Targaryen.
  • Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna not ten leagues from Harrenhal.
  • There is a hidden significance in the differences between Brandon, Ned and Robert’s reactions to Rhaegar crowning Lyanna the queen of love and beauty.

Next: Chapter 9 – Eddard Stark


Acclaim

That is a very thorough consideration of the “Year of the False Spring” section. Thank you! —u/Elio_Garcia

Forest Love and Forest Lass – Chapter 7

Previous: Chapter 6 – The Crannogman’s Bullshit

POV: Crannogman

Meera’s story begins with the crannogman, which positions him as the main character in Meera’s story. It occurs to me that, in this way, my obsession with the mystery knight is cast in a critical light by being in contrast with A Song of Ice and Fire’s challenge to look at things from other peoples’ perspectives. How did I let my attention become more focused on the mystery knight than on the main character? I should pay more attention to what the crannogman is doing, feeling and thinking at each moment. If I can look at the Tourney at Harrenhal from more points-of-view, maybe I can reconstruct a fuller version of events.

Entering the point-of-view of the crannogman, I hold onto this question: ‘Where in the story are there gaps where information may be missing?’ And following that, ‘What is that information likely to be?’ Let’s try it now and reread Meera’s story with our attention devoted entirely to seeing things from the crannogman’s point-of-view, and see if we notice any significant gaps where potentially important information is missing.

He was small like all crannogmen, but brave and smart and strong as well. He grew up hunting and fishing and climbing trees, and learned all the magics of my people. (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

The crannogman is described as a master of his crannog tradition. He journeys away from home on an adventure to the Isle of Faces, where he presumably learns about the Old Gods tradition. Like the people of the North, the people of the crannogs still worship the Old Gods despite most of Westeros having adopted the Faith of the Seven instead, and so Old Gods tradition is a part of crannog tradition, too. This guy really wants to fill out his mastery of his tradition.

“All that winter the crannogman stayed on the isle, but when the spring broke he heard the wide world calling and knew the time had come to leave. His skin boat was just where he’d left it, so he said his farewells and paddled off toward shore.” (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

The crannogman said his farewells to the green men, which suggests that he was accepted on the isle and did get to learn from its inhabitants like he set out to do. He’s probably feeling good about life at this moment. I don’t suppose any important things likely happened while he was paddling, so I’ll keep searching. The biggest piece of missing information so far is what kind of magic he learned on the Isle of Faces.

Beneath its walls he saw tents of many colors, bright banners cracking in the wind, and knights in mail and plate on barded horses. (…) (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

He encounters Westerosi culture in its full splendor.

“The crannogman had never seen such pageantry, and knew he might never see the like again. Part of him wanted nothing so much as to be part of it.” (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

The crannogman is on cloud nine. He doesn’t understand all of what’s happening, but he wants to join in anyway and take part in the festivities. Soon after his arrival, however, his joy is interrupted by the three squires.

(…) They snatched away his spear and knocked him to the ground, cursing him for a frogeater.” (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

The crannogman suffers a fast introduction to the harsh reality that Westerosi culture is not without its fair share of unflattering stigmas and misguided youths.

“None offered a name, but he marked their faces well so he could revenge himself upon them later. They shoved him down every time he tried to rise, and kicked him when he curled up on the ground. (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

The crannogman wants revenge of some kind. In the beginning of the story his motivation was to study at the Isle of Faces. He achieved that and has acquired a new motivation now: Revenge against the squires.

But then they heard a roar. ‘That’s my father’s man you’re kicking,’ howled the she-wolf.”

“A wolf on four legs, or two?”

“Two,” said Meera. “The she-wolf laid into the squires with a tourney sword, scattering them all. The crannogman was bruised and bloodied, so she took him back to her lair to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen. There he met her pack brothers: the wild wolf who led them, the quiet wolf beside him, and the pup who was youngest of the four.” (ASOS Bran II)

The she-wolf laid into and scattered the squires with a tourney sword, apparently feeling compelled to protect the crannogman. Though the crannogman is hurt and vengeful, I imagine that he must feel gratitude toward the she-wolf and her family for helping him.

They’ve gone to the she-wolf’s “lair”, which I take to mean the wolf family’s encampment or maybe the she-wolf’s tent specifically.

I notice that there is a lot of opportunity at this moment in the story for the crannogman and the wolf family to interact. It seems likely that the wolf family would have had much interest in the crannogman and many questions for him, the crannogman being a strange young man from a strange place, and a member of a family that is sworn allegience to the wolf family.

During these interactions, it seems plausible, too, that the crannogman told the wolf family about his recent adventure on the Isle of Faces. If so, the wolf family may have learned that the crannogman has special abilities he acquired there, like the power to pray for something and receive it.

“That evening there was to be a feast in Harrenhal, to mark the opening of the tourney, and the she-wolf insisted that the lad attend. He was of high birth, with as much a right to a place on the bench as any other man. She was not easy to refuse, this wolf maid, so he let the young pup find him garb suitable to a king’s feast, and went up to the great castle. (ASOS Bran II)

The crannogman is bruised and bandaged now. The she-wolf wants him to attend the feast with her family. The crannogman apparently tries to refuse her at first, but the she-wolf / wolf maid insists upon it, pointing out that he has a right to a place at the feast due to his high birth. The young pup found some suitable clothes for him to wear, and off they went to the feast. I imagine the crannogman is feeling sore, reluctant, and hopeful that he will get through the event without another unpleasant encounter.

“Under Harren’s roof he ate and drank with the wolves, and many of their sworn swords besides, barrowdown men and moose and bears and mermen. The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle, but when her pup brother teased her for crying she poured wine over his head. A black brother spoke, asking the knights to join the Night’s Watch. The storm lord drank down the knight of skulls and kisses in a wine-cup war. The crannogman saw a maid with laughing purple eyes dance with a white sword, a red snake, and the lord of griffins, and lastly with the quiet wolf … but only after the wild wolf spoke to her on behalf of a brother too shy to leave his bench. (ASOS Bran II)

Now the crannogman is eating and drinking with the wolf family and other families that are sworn to them. I think he’s probably having a good time. He sees many other people enjoying the feast too, most of whom he probably doesn’t know. He sees the wild wolf ask the maid with laughing purple eyes to dance with the shy quiet wolf. I imagine the crannogman is happy for the quiet wolf and admiring of the wild wolf.

“Amidst all this merriment, the little crannogman spied the three squires who’d attacked him. One served a pitchfork knight, one a porcupine, while the last attended a knight with two towers on his surcoat, a sigil all crannogmen know well.” (ASOS Bran II)

The crannogman sees the three squires who attacked him, and he sees their knights for the first time. His range of behavior right now could be anything between shrinking in fear and taking note of their identities so that he can “revenge himself upon them later.” I imagine him somewhere in the middle, not wanting to confront them and still thinking about what he should do about them, if not swallow his pride and move on.

“The wolf maid saw them too, and pointed them out to her brothers. ‘I could find you a horse, and some armor that might fit,’ the pup offered. The little crannogman thanked him, but gave no answer. His heart was torn. Crannogmen are smaller than most, but just as proud. The lad was no knight, no more than any of his people. We sit a boat more often than a horse, and our hands are made for oars, not lances. Much as he wished to have his vengeance, he feared he would only make a fool of himself and shame his people. The quiet wolf had offered the little crannogman a place in his tent that night, but before he slept he knelt on the lakeshore, looking across the water to where the Isle of Faces would be, and said a prayer to the old gods of north and Neck …” (ASOS Bran II)

The crannogman is thankful for the wolf pup’s offer to find him a horse and armor, but he’s conflicted because he doesn’t know how to joust and he will embarrass himself and his people if he tries. The quiet wolf invites him to share his tent, which I think the crannogman probably appreciates. As his need for vengeance lingers within him, he kneels by the lakeshore and says a prayer to the Old Gods in the direction of the Isle of Faces. It isn’t clear whether the crannogman said the prayer before entering the tent or after entering the tent and leaving it again, but since he knelt by the lakeshore and looked across the water he did not say the prayer from inside the tent. So, I don’t think the quiet wolf could have heard the crannogman’s prayer.

At this point, Meera’s story is interrupted by some dialogue.

“You never heard this tale from your father?” asked Jojen.

“It was Old Nan who told the stories. Meera, go on, you can’t stop there.”

Hodor must have felt the same. “Hodor,” he said, and then, “Hodor hodor hodor hodor.”

“Well,” said Meera, “if you would hear the rest …”

“Yes. Tell it.”

“Five days of jousting were planned,” she said. “There was a great seven-sided mêlée as well, and archery and axe-throwing, a horse race and tourney of singers …”

“Never mind about all that.” Bran squirmed impatiently in his basket on Hodor’s back. “Tell about the jousting.”

“As my prince commands. (ASOS Bran II)

Though the out-of-story dialogue doesn’t tell me about the crannogman, all of this padding between the prayer and the appearance of the mystery knight seems suspicious in consideration of the idea that the story was designed to make the prayer seem like it was about producing the Knight of the Laughing Tree. The more space there is between the prayer and the mystery knight’s emergence, the more I will tend to think that I put the pieces together myself. And the more I think that, the more invisible the hand of the author becomes. If I were writing a story and I wanted to make the reader think he put two pieces together himself so that he treats an illusory fact as an actual fact, (the prayer caused or produced the knight) then creating some distance between the pieces seems like a good way to do it without attracting his skepticism.

There’s a part where Meera tries to increase the distance even more, with competitions like a melee, archery and horse races. Bran hurries her past them, his ability to recognize distractions when he hears them in Meera’s story perhaps broadcasting George R. R. Martin’s purpose with this intermission in his A Song of Ice and Fire story; to distract from the Illusory Fact Effect happening between the line “said a prayer to the old gods of north and Neck” and the line “a mystery knight appeared in the lists.”

Chapter 7.5 – Recap

We’ve covered a lot of ground, so let’s take a break and regroup. Here’s a summary of points of interest so far.

  • The Maiden of the Tree song is about relationships between men and women, love and tradition, culture and nature.
  • The mystery of the Tourney at Harrenhal is about a relationship between two mysteries: The Knight of the Laughing Tree and Rhaegar naming Lyanna the queen of love and beauty.
  • The Knight of the Laughing Tree’s heroism is proven by his motivation which is proven by his anonymity.
  • The Knight of the Laughing Tree’s fundamental motivation is to repair the institution of knighthood.
  • A Song of Ice and Fire is hiding an association between ‘missing the deeper meanings of the story‘ and ‘the dragon prince naming the wolf maid the queen of love and beauty.’
  • Discussions about Jon Snow’s parentage converge on a tension between ‘R+L=J is a good enough explanation‘ and ‘R+L=J is not a good enough explanation.’
  • Discussions about Howland being the Knight of the Laughing Tree converge upon ‘the difficulty of telling the difference between hard truth and nihilism.’
  • Howland Reed may have designed the story of the Tourney at Harrenhal to disguise the true content of his prayer.
  • Discussions about the Knight of the Laughing Tree converge on a tension between story and realism.
  • The fantasy genre sacrifices realism for story.
  • The wolf family may have learned about the crannogman’s power of prayer.

Next: Chapter 8 – Maester Yandel

Forest Love and Forest Lass – Chapter 6

Previous: Chapter 5 – Booming Voices and Jousting Horses

The Crannogman’s Bullshit

Who is the crannogman? There is only one named crannogman in ASOIAF so far who is the right age to be the crannogman in Meera’s story. He even appears in Ned’s thoughts with the title “the crannogman.”

In the dream his friends rode with him, as they had in life. Proud Martyn Cassel, Jory’s father; faithful Theo Wull; Ethan Glover, who had been Brandon’s squire; Ser Mark Ryswell, soft of speech and gentle of heart; the crannogman, Howland Reed; Lord Dustin on his great red stallion. (AGOT Eddard X)

I refer to Meera’s telling of the Tourney at Harrenhal story as “Meera’s story” because Meera being the storyteller is important. And her story being a story is important. In a story like ASOIAF where the characters’ motivations often provide better insight into what’s going on than what the characters themselves say, Meera’s perspective as a member of the Reed family and inhabitant of the Neck is crucial. This is hinted in Meera’s story in several ways.

In the chapter ASOS Bran II, Bran, Meera, Jojen and Hodor are traveling by foot in the North. Bran is bored so he asks Meera and Jojen if they know any stories to tell. Bran wants to hear a story about knights. Jojen says there are no knights in the Neck, then Meera specifies:

“Above the water. The bogs are full of dead ones, though.” (ASOS Bran II)

Right away, ASOIAF is drawing attention to the characters’ differences in perspective regarding knights. To Bran, knights are the heroes in stories. But to the Reeds, knights are the invaders in stories.

“Sometimes the knights are the monsters, Bran.” (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

House Reed’s attitudes about knights sometimes being monsters is a remnant of the Andal Invasion that occurred thousands of years before. House Reed’s isolation in the crannogs causes them to receive cultural updates incredibly slowly, and affords them some freedom to reject them.

“Andals and ironmen, Freys and other fools, all those proud warriors who set out to conquer Greywater. Not one of them could find it. They ride into the Neck but not back out. And sooner or later they blunder into the bogs and sink beneath the weight of all that steel and drown there in their armor.” (—Jojen Reed, ASOS Bran II)

Additionally, ASOIAF is drawing attention to the slippery natures of language and truth. To say that there are knights in the Neck is true if you allow that a dead knight is a knight, and false if you do not.

Aristotle believed that things are truly themselves if they can perform their own function. For example, an eye is truly an eye if it can see, but a glass eye is only an eye in name. Likewise, a knight is truly a knight if he can and does do the things a knight should do.

Both Aristotle and George R. R. Martin would side with Jojen by saying that a dead knight is not truly a knight, because a dead knight can’t and doesn’t fulfill the role of a knight. Inversely, something that performs the function of an eye (seeing) but is not called an eye (such as a camera), would be considered by Aristotle and Martin more truly an eye than either a glass eye or a blind eye would be. In the same school of thought, if a blind man were to suggest that he can see just fine by pointing out that he has eyes, Aristotle and Martin would consider that suggestion to be mostly a lie, though not entirely without truth.

While these are big things to say about the story and author, I don’t say them casually. My journeys through other parts of the story over the years have converged upon this recognition consistently and independently from one another so as to develop this conception. In his own words, for example, Syrio Forel describes this role-based, behaviorist way of seeing the world when he tells Arya the story of how he became the First Sword of Braavos.

Syrio clicked his teeth together. “The cat was an ordinary cat, no more. The others expected a fabulous beast, so that is what they saw. How large it was, they said. It was no larger than any other cat, only fat from indolence, for the Sealord fed it from his own table. What curious small ears, they said. Its ears had been chewed away in kitten fights. And it was plainly a tomcat, yet the Sealord said ‘her,’ and that is what the others saw. Are you hearing?”

Arya thought about it. “You saw what was there.”

“Just so. Opening your eyes is all that is needing. The heart lies and the head plays tricks with us, but the eyes see true. Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears. Taste with your mouth. Smell with your nose. Feel with your skin. Then comes the thinking, afterward, and in that way knowing the truth.” (—Syrio Forel to Arya, AGOT Arya IV)

A Song of Ice and Fire constantly challenges us to peer through the bullshit in order to see how things really are — to look past the names and titles in order to divine a thing’s or person’s behavior and role.

What does this have to do with the Knight of the Laughing Tree? It helped me recognize and give greater weight to the idea that the very structure of Meera Reed’s story of the Tourney at Harrenhal is fulfilling some role for the character who created it. This recognition elicits new and potentially useful questions like ‘Who created this version of the story?’ and ‘Why was it designed this way?’ and ‘Why are the characters’ identities obscured in symbolism?’ and ‘Why does it begin with the crannogman?’

Since Meera and Jojen are the ones telling the story, it seems safe to suppose that they heard it from their father Howland.

“You never heard this tale from your father?” asked Jojen. (ASOS Bran II)

Jojen is surprised that Bran hasn’t heard this story from his father Ned, suggesting that Jojen and Meera heard it from their own father Howland.

“Are you certain you never heard this tale before, Bran?” asked Jojen. “Your lord father never told it to you?”

Bran shook his head. (ASOS Bran II)

Story versus Realism

If I want to de-mystify an in-story story, I’m supposed to wrestle with the nature of story itself. Story and realism are inescapably in conflict. After all, a story by definition is not real, in a significant sense. So what would a story look like when it completely ignores realism? And what would a story look like when it adheres strictly to realism, but it isn’t trying to tell a story at all?

I imagine that a story without realism would be like math homework for math that I will never use. Patterns may exist in the words, but if the patterns aren’t grounded in reality even a little bit, then they can’t practically relate to me and my life in any way. How can I see the patterns, or care about them even if I could see them?

Realism without any story would be like a list of unrelated facts. That would be boring, and hardly distinguishable from aimlessly describing reality itself. Imagine how absurd it would be if you suddenly devoted your attention to something that doesn’t matter to you right now simply because it’s real, like the ceiling. A story is supposed to behave like the focal point of the human eye, excluding almost everything in order to show us only the things that matter for the story, and at a high resolution. That’s why characters in stories virtually never have to go to the bathroom. We simply don’t need to know that for the purposes of the story.

So at either extreme of the story-realism spectrum, a story would be nonsense, so I think a story has to be balanced between story and realism in order to be a good story.

What kind of balance does the fantasy genre strike between story and realism? Well, things are not completely realistic, but they’re realistic enough that they usually don’t break my suspension of disbelief. For example, ravens are A Song of Ice and Fire’s version of carrier pigeons. Though a pigeon would be more realistic of a messenger animal than a raven, a raven is at least more realistic of a messenger animal than most animals, because the realism resides in the animal’s ability to fly, or perhaps to travel quickly, and pigeons and ravens can both fly. So with fantasy, we like things and characters to be realistic on the inside and fantastic on the outside. We approach (or avoid) fantasy with the understanding that it sacrifices some realism in exchange for story. For many people, the fantastic elements create a more vivid and memorable experience that feels novel yet familiar, which helps the story’s deeper meanings stand out.

When I bring this recognition about stories to the list of characteristics that a contender for the Knight of the Laughing Tree must have, it shows me a way that my thinking so far has been too limited.

Excepting for magical explanations, these are the characteristics that a contender for Knight of the Laughing Tree must have:

  • Knew about the squires acting dishonorably.
  • Short of stature. (according to Meera’s story)
  • Slight. (according to Yandel)
  • Would wear a laughing weirwood tree device.
  • Able to defeat the three knights at jousting.
  • Can produce a booming voice.

And here are the characteristics that a contender for Knight of the Laughing Tree should probably have:

  • Interested in repairing the institution of knighthood.

There is one more characteristic that I haven’t addressed yet. Whoever is the real identity of the Knight of the Laughing Tree, it should be somebody who is interested in repairing the institution of knighthood.

On the realism side of things, the mys

tery knight doesn’t necessarily need to have this characteristic. For example, it would be possible and realistic that the three knights who the Knight of the Laughing Tree defeated were only coincidentally the knights of the squires who attacked the crannogman. Coincidences certainly happen in reality. By the same token, it’s possible and realistic that the Knight of the Laughing Tree arbitrarily told the knights to teach the squires honor, perhaps not being very interested in repairing the institution of knighthood at all, or instead wanting to say something that sounds cool.

As silly as these examples may be, they highlight some unconscious assumptions I’ve made in favor of the story side of interpretation at the expense of the realism side of interpretation. These possibilities are both realistic, but I overlooked them because, since I’m reading an in-story story, I’m extra aware that I’m reading a story, and they obviously make for a bad story. If the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s emergence was not a consequence of what happened to the crannogman, Meera’s story practically ceases to be a story at all . . . doesn’t it?

The story’s baked-in suggestion that the prayer was about summoning the mystery knight was apparently doing a lot of work to move the text out of the category of nonsense and into the category of story. Is the story performing a sleight-of-hand? Or is this a feature of the human mind? Or is it both? To make this effect easy to refer to, I’ll give it a name and call it the Illusory Fact Effect.

This recognition forces me to distinguish my questions better: (1) Did the prayer cause the appearance of the mystery knight? (2) Was the prayer about causing the appearance of the mystery knight?

The second question doesn’t need to be true if the first question is true. For example, it’s possible that somebody saw the squires attack the crannogman and wanted to do something about it. Similarly, the first question doesn’t need to be true if the second question is true. It’s possible that the prayer didn’t work or that it was declined by the receiver.

And so the little crannogman’s prayer was answered … by the green men, or the old gods, or the children of the forest, who can say?” (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

Meera ends the story by reiterating the story’s baked-in suggestion that the prayer was about causing the appearance of the mystery knight, yet still without directly saying that it was. Literally, she is only saying that the prayer was answered, and the words “and so” only suggest that the preceding event (mystery knight’s emergence) was the answer.

With my knowledge of the story’s deeper meaning — the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s type of heroism — and with my new respect for the story side of interpretation, I can see how I have prioritized the mystery knight’s characteristics in backwards order. If the deeper meaning of Meera’s story is that the Knight of the Laughing Tree is rescuing or at least repairing the institution of knighthood, then the most important characteristic that a contender for Knight of the Laughing Tree must have is that he is interested in repairing the institution of knighthood.

If the mystery knight ends up being somebody who is not very interested in repairing the institution of knighthood, then the deeper meaning of the story will be either absent or poorly expressed. That’s a bad story. On the flip side, if he ends up being somebody who is interested in repairing the institution of knighthood, but who is not short of stature, slight, good at jousting, and cannot produce a booming voice, then Meera’s story may be less mechanically complex, but the deeper meaning would still be intact and so Meera’s story would still make a good story. Additionally, the magical possibilities in Meera’s story would still be there to explain the other characteristics.

With my priorities adjusted, the criteria for the Knight of the Laughing Tree look like this:

These are the characteristics that a contender for Knight of the Laughing Tree must have:

  • Interested in repairing the institution of knighthood.

Because of the availability of magical explanations, these are the characteristics that a contender for Knight of the Laughing Tree should probably have:

  • Knew about the squires acting dishonorably.
  • Short of stature. (according to Meera’s story)
  • Slight. (according to Yandel)
  • Would wear a laughing weirwood tree device.
  • Able to defeat the three knights at jousting.
  • Can produce a booming voice.

With my priorities adjusted this way, I can see that they reflect the role-based way of looking at things. The mystery knight’s internal character, behavior and role is expressed mostly by his desire to fix the institution of knighthood, because he forewent so many other options in order to do it. All the other characteristics of the mystery knight are superficial compared to that one, though still important to check later.

Fantasy author Stephen R. Donaldson said that the difference between fantasy and mainstream fiction is that, in fantasy, the world is a manifestation of the character’s internal conflict. In other words, the Knight of the Laughing Tree didn’t repair the institution of knighthood because the squires attacked the crannogman. The squires attacked the crannogman because the Knight of the Laughing Tree needed to repair the institution of knighthood. The creative process looks like this:

George R. R. Martin began with a concept of heroism and a purpose to share it. Then he gave the concept a body and called it the Knight of the Laughing Tree. Then he designed the crannogman bullying situation around the Knight of the Laughing Tree so that the Knight of the Laughing Tree could do something about it, and so George R. R. Martin could build his story A Song of Ice and Fire around it.

These ruminations of story, itself, led me to a critical realization. If this storywriting perspective explains the author’s intent for ASOIAF, it can also explain the in-story author’s intent for Meera’s story of the Tourney at Harrenhal! The in-story author performs the process in the opposite direction, beginning with the full story and chiseling information away to serve his purpose. The creative process looks like this:

Howland began with the full and true story of the Tourney at Harrenhal, including the content of his own prayer. Then he realized he could hide the content of his prayer by subtracting information until the story gives the impression that the crannogman’s prayer was about the mystery knight, without ever actually saying that the prayer was about the mystery knight, and relying upon the Illusory Fact Effect to take hold within the listener.

I can even see the effect taking hold within Bran as he listens to Meera’s story.

“Maybe he came from the Isle of Faces,” said Bran. “Was he green?” In Old Nan’s stories, the guardians had dark green skin and leaves instead of hair. Sometimes they had antlers too, but Bran didn’t see how the mystery knight could have worn a helm if he had antlers. “I bet the old gods sent him.” (ASOS Bran II)

Bran has made the connection between the crannogman’s visit to the Isle of Faces and the mystery knight appearing. Like me, he filled in the content of the prayer with the mystery knight and never questioned it again.

The quiet wolf had offered the little crannogman a place in his tent that night, but before he slept he knelt on the lakeshore, looking across the water to where the Isle of Faces would be, and said a prayer to the old gods of north and Neck …” (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

The conclusion I’m left with is that Howland Reed created the story that Meera Reed is telling, and he may be using the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s mysterious entrance to disguise the true content of his prayer.

Next: Chapter 7 – POV: Crannogman

Forest Love and Forest Lass – Chapter 5

Previous: Chapter 4 – Jon Snow’s Parentage

Booming Voices and Jousting Horses

When his fallen foes sought to ransom horse and armor, the Knight of the Laughing Tree spoke in a booming voice through his helm, saying, ‘Teach your squires honor, that shall be ransom enough.’ (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

This line from the Knight of the Laughing Tree is the only line he ever speaks.

“It was the little crannogman, I bet.”

“No one knew,” said Meera, “but the mystery knight was short of stature, and clad in ill-fitting armor made up of bits and pieces. The device upon his shield was a heart tree of the old gods, a white weirwood with a laughing red face.” (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

The first was the appearance of a mystery knight, a slight young man in ill-fitting armor whose device was a carved white weirwood tree, its features twisted in mirth. (—Yandel, TWOIAF: The Year of the False Spring)

These two paragraphs provide the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s only physical identifying characteristics available in A Song of Ice and Fire. The knight was short of stature and slight.

Other than those three details, we also know of his accomplishments in the Tourney at Harrenhal. He defeated three knights at jousting, who themselves had been champions for a day.

With so little information to guide us, the debates surrounding these four pieces of information have a tendency to either go into excruciating depth for lack of other details to consider, or fizzle out quickly for lack of energy and patience in the people who’ve partaken in them before.

Stepping out of story-mode interpretation and back into standard-mode, a small handful of characters are favored by the readers to be the Knight of the Laughing Tree.

This poll in March 2020 from r/asoiaf entitled “who do you think is the Knight of the Laughing Tree?” [1] drew 2040 votes for Lyanna, 322 for Howland, 186 for “???”,  71 for Ned, 66 for Rhaegar and 66 for Ashara. This topic in February 2021 from r/asoiaf entitled “Lyanna = Knight of the Laughing Tree is as settled as R+L=J” [1] received nearly a thousand more upvotes than downvotes and seven awards. And this poll in July 2018 from Westeros.org [1] drew 60 votes for Lyanna, 9 for Howland, 6 for Ned, and 7 for others including 1 for Paris Hilton, who maybe we can translate to Rhaenyra.

Lyanna, Howland, Ned, Rhaegar and Ashara are the top contenders, with Lyanna six times more favored than the second place position. As a commenter put it:

u/silentlumau

346 points 2021

Lyanna being the KoTLT and Rhaegar discovering this fits quite well with Rhaegar crowning Lyanna Queen of Love and Beauty. [1]

In order to develop my understanding of the mystery, I should begin by developing my understanding of the way it directs my attention. Bran’s first instinct is that the Knight of the Laughing Tree is the crannogman, so my attention is being directed to the crannogman first, and so the crannogman is who I should begin with.

Howland Reed

Excepting for magical explanations, these are the characteristics that a contender for Knight of the Laughing Tree must have:

  • Knew about the squires acting dishonorably.
  • Short of stature. (according to Meera’s story)
  • Slight. (according to Yandel)
  • Would wear a laughing weirwood tree device.
  • Able to defeat the three knights at jousting.
  • Can produce a booming voice.

And here are the characteristics that a contender for Knight of the Laughing Tree should probably have:

  • Interested in repairing the institution of knighthood.

Howland is an easy match with most of the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s characteristics. Being the target of the squires, he had a close view of their dishonorable behavior. The crannogman is described in Meera’s story as being “small like all crannogmen,” and that’s practically the same as saying he was short and slight, so Howland matches the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s shortness and slightness, too. Howland had the motivation, the opportunity, and some of the means, because Benjen offered to acquire horse and armor for him. Since Howland had recently visited the Isle of Faces where he presumably lived with the green men, studied the Old Gods tradition and perhaps learned some Old Gods magic, it makes more than enough sense that Howland would have chosen a laughing weirwood tree device for his shield. It’s even majorly plausible that Howland could have made the booming voice by having a naturally deep tone due to being a man and then speaking from his belly.

With so many easy matches, I don’t have to wonder why Howland holds the second most popular position among the Knight of the Laughing Tree contenders. Meera’s story implies that the mystery knight was the crannogman so straight-forwardly that the eight-year-old Bran detects it, regardless that the deeper meanings of the story went over his head. For readers who have worn themselves out reading and thinking about the mystery, Howland as the Knight of the Laughing Tree has the welcome quality of relieving us of the tiresome debates. In that way, the resolution echoes some of A Song of Ice and Fire’s deeper meanings about seeing things as they really are and accepting reality for what it plainly is rather than what we would like it to be.

The boy took the skin and tried a cautious swallow. “It’s true, isn’t it?” he said when he was done. “What you said about the Night’s Watch.”

Tyrion nodded.

Jon Snow set his mouth in a grim line. “If that’s what it is, that’s what it is.”

Tyrion grinned at him. “That’s good, bastard. Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it.”

“Most men,” the boy said. “But not you.”

“No,” Tyrion admitted, “not me.” (—Jon and Tyrion, AGOT Tyrion II)

If Howland is the Knight of the Laughing Tree, then a major lesson of A Song of Ice and Fire would appear to be a version of Tyrion’s lesson to Jon; that life is mundane and kind of sucky, and if you want happiness then you better learn how to kick your stone on down the road like everybody else.

The only must-have characteristic that Howland is missing to be the Knight of the Laughing Tree is that he doesn’t know how to joust. This mismatch is foregrounded directly in Meera’s story.

The lad was no knight, no more than any of his people. We sit a boat more often than a horse, and our hands are made for oars, not lances. (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

But the story resolves the mismatch by heavily implying that the crannogman acquired jousting ability with his prayer to the Isle of Faces.

u/barer00t

3 points 2019

To me the point of the story, other than the obvious way of providing back story, is that someone who other[s] underestimate can [be] capable of great deeds. [1]

Now, with all the must-have characteristics accounted for, Howland is a strong candidate for the Knight of the Laughing Tree.

In Tyrion’s passage, why is Tyrion grinning?

As in Tyrion’s grin, I sometimes sense in Howland’s proponents in the audience that they’re deriving satisfaction from squashing peoples’ hopes that A Song of Ice and Fire will resolve the Knight of the Laughing Tree mystery in a way that elicits from us more cheering than stone-kicking.

Counter to that, it could also be pointed out that the satisfaction I sense in them is yet another example of Howland’s opponents conjuring meanings that simply are not there. In that case, my recurring impulse to read deeper meanings into things is a built-in handicap in me — an inability to accept reality for what it is.

In response, I could note that the “reality” that Howland’s proponents are referring to in their previous point is a fictional story, and therefore not reality in the way that they mean it. Perhaps a fair rewrite of their position is ‘When you take the story seriously, what you find is the lesson that taking the story seriously is equivalent to being handicapped.’ Does that mean they are handicapped instead of me? What are Howland’s proponents doing, here, if not genuinely trying to extract meanings deeper than ‘life is mundane and sucky?’ Doesn’t everybody already know that? Is not weariness of the mundane and the suckiness of life what attracts us to stories in the first place?

All of this leads me to one fundamental recognition: The Knight of the Laughing Tree debates about Howland Reed converge upon ‘the difficulty of telling the difference between hard truth and nihilism.’

Sometimes when a person seems to be telling a hard truth, he’s really conveying nihilism. And sometimes when a person seems to be conveying nihilism he’s really telling a hard truth. So I can ask myself, which person is Tyrion? Which person is George R. R. Martin? Which person am I?

Lyanna

Lyanna – Knew About the Squires Acting Dishonorably

Since Lyanna is the one who rescued the crannogman from the squires, she’s among the best witnesses possible of the dishonorable behavior of the squires. To judge by Meera’s story, the only witnesses who had a closer view of the situation than Lyanna did were the crannogman and the squires themselves.

Lyanna – Short of Stature

Lyanna is not described as short or anything synonymous with it, but as the Knight of the Laughing Tree she would have appeared short by comparison to the other knights, being a girl and 14-15 years old. According to Ned and Bran, Arya resembles Lyanna in appearance, and Arya is short due to being a child, even if not necessarily for her age. So the following passages can be read as clues that Lyanna was short like Arya and therefore like the Knight of the Laughing Tree.

“Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her.” (—Ned to Arya, AGOT Arya II)

Now two children danced across the godswood, hooting at one another as they dueled with broken branches. The girl was the older and taller of the two. Arya! Bran thought eagerly, as he watched her leap up onto a rock and cut at the boy. (ADWD Bran III)

Lyanna – Slight

The first was the appearance of a mystery knight, a slight young man in ill-fitting armor whose device was a carved white weirwood tree, its features twisted in mirth. (—Yandel, TWOIAF: The Year of the False Spring)

Since Arya is commonly described as skinny, the same lines and reasoning from the Short of Stature section above can be read as clues that Lyanna was slight. Additionally, Lyanna is described as slim by Theon, which is a synonym of slight.

But there were others with faces he had never known in life, faces he had seen only in stone. The slim, sad girl who wore a crown of pale blue roses and a white gown spattered with gore could only be Lyanna. (ACOK Theon V)

Lyanna – Would Wear a Laughing Weirwood Tree Device

Since Lyanna is a member of House Stark, and House Stark worships the Old Gods, it makes more than enough sense for Lyanna to choose this device for her shield like the mystery knight did.

All of the criteria so far are points of much agreement between Lyanna’s proponents and opponents in the Knight of the Laughing Tree discussions, even though these agreements are mostly left unsaid.

Lyanna – Able to Defeat the Three Knights at Jousting

In ASOIAF canon (all official published works) Lyanna is never said to have jousted before. In semi-canon, however, she is said to have practiced tilting at rings.

The only daughter of Lord Rickard Stark, Lyanna proved to be a strong-willed girl who grew into a slender beauty. She was a skilled horsewoman, and practiced at tilting at rings. (AWOIAF App)

Lyanna is described by Harwin, Roose and Barbrey to have been a great horserider. Combined with Jaime’s and Roose’s comments that jousting requires good skill at riding, the following four passages together can be read as clues that Lyanna was or could have been a good jouster, too.

1 – Harwin

“You ride like a northman, milady,” Harwin said when he’d drawn them to a halt. “Your aunt was the same. Lady Lyanna. But my father was master of horse, remember.” (—Harwin to Arya, ASOS Arya III)

2 – Jaime

Jousting was three-quarters horsemanship, Jaime had always believed. Ser Loras rode superbly, and handled a lance as if he’d been born holding one … which no doubt accounted for his mother’s pinched expression. He puts the point just where he means to put it, and seems to have the balance of a cat. Perhaps it was not such a fluke that he unhorsed me. (—Jaime Lannister, AFFC Jaime II)

3 – Roose

“He is your only son.”

“For the moment. I had another, once. Domeric. A quiet boy, but most accomplished. He served four years as Lady Dustin’s page, and three in the Vale as a squire to Lord Redfort. He played the high harp, read histories, and rode like the wind. Horses … the boy was mad for horses, Lady Dustin will tell you. Not even Lord Rickard’s daughter could outrace him, and that one was half a horse herself. Redfort said he showed great promise in the lists. A great jouster must be a great horseman first.” (—Theon and Roose, ADWD Reek III)

4 – Barbrey

“Brandon was fostered at Barrowton with old Lord Dustin, the father of the one I’d later wed, but he spent most of his time riding the Rills. He loved to ride. His little sister took after him in that. A pair of centaurs, those two.” (—Barbrey to Theon, ADWD The Turncloak)

With so much text from so many different characters in evidence of Lyanna’s horseriding skill and its relationship to jousting, these passages were clearly written by the author with the specific intent to evidence the plausibility of the Knight of the Laughing Tree being Lyanna. Lyanna is specifically mentioned in three of the four passages. Roose’s quote in particular connects Lyanna’s horseriding ability to jousting so cleanly that the passage may as well be pointing a giant arrow at the Knight of the Laughing Tree mystery.

Still, I should explore the arguments that Lyanna’s opponents in the audience are making, to develop my understanding of the disagreements.

Some readers point out that each passage accommodates an interpretation that’s contrary to Lyanna being able to joust as well as the Knight of the Laughing Tree did.

1 – Harwin Alternative

“But my father was master of horse, remember.” (—Harwin to Arya, ASOS Arya III)

If being the son of the master of horse of Winterfell affords Harwin the ability to catch Arya in a horse chase, it might be unreasonable to suppose that seasoned knights such as the three knights who competed with noteworthy success in the Tourney at Harrenhal could have been defeated by Lyanna, a fourteen- to fifteen-year-old girl. Still, Lyanna was three or four years older at the time than Arya is in the scene.

In the same scene, Arya’s thoughts show that she considers her horse to be faster than Harwin’s horse.

How big are these woods? she wondered. She had the faster horse, she knew that, she had stolen one of Roose Bolton’s best from the stables at Harrenhal, but his speed was wasted here. I need to find the fields again. I need to find a road. (ASOS Arya III)

From a storywriting point of view, the line’s presence is strange if the author’s intent was for this horse chase to stand as evidence for Lyanna being the Knight of the Laughing Tree. Surely the author would have recognized when he was writing how this detail works against Lyanna’s side of the argument and then removed it or changed it. But then again, maybe the author added this wrinkle to make the answer of Lyanna less obvious by providing a certain subgroup of readers a reason to refute this evidence that Lyanna is the Knight of the Laughing Tree — readers who might predictably want to refute that.

2 – Jaime Alternative

In Jaime’s passage, he thinks that Loras “handled a lance as if he’d been born holding one” and that “He puts the point just where he means to put it.” Both of those thoughts suggest that Jaime considers lance control an important skill for jousting, and important enough to be the difference between his own victory or defeat against Loras.

If jousting is three-quarters horsemanship like Jaime says, and even if I suppose that Lyanna is the best horserider in the world and therefore in possession of all seventy-five percent of the jousting prowess available in horseriding, being in the seventy-fifth percentile would not qualify her for a competition as stacked as this.

The greatest lords and mightiest champions of the Seven Kingdoms rode in that tourney, and the Prince of Dragonstone bested them all.” (—Barristan to Daenerys, ASOS Daenerys IV)

To say ‘I tilted at rings’ here seems akin to saying in the NFL ‘I played football in middle school.’ The attitude from this side of the debate is that, while ASOIAF has its share of technical errors such as the boiling point of gold, this seems like the kind of error that a fantasy author with an awareness of his mostly male audience demographic would not make.

Still, I wouldn’t be the first one to say that that line of argumentation sounds like gatekeeping on behalf of a misplaced impulse to prevent woman characters from doing things man characters do.

3 – Roose Alternative

I can see how Roose Bolton’s passage can be read as evidence against Lyanna just as well as evidence for Lyanna. Roose says “Not even Lord Rickard’s daughter could outrace [Domeric].” In other words, Lyanna was beaten at horseracing by a boy who’s at least 6 years younger than her, making him eight to nine years old at the oldest.

Then Roose says “A great jouster must be a great horseman first.” This line can be read to portray horsemanship as a basic skill upon which to specialize in jousting, as opposed to a specialization itself that relates much to jousting at the highest levels of competition, contradicting that implicit proposition from the Lyanna side of the discussion.

4 – Barbrey Alternative

In Barbrey Dustin’s passage, Barbrey says that Brandon and Lyanna were a “pair of centaurs,” which is another way of saying they were half a horse, because a centaur is a creature that’s half human and half horse. While Barbrey clearly means it in a complimentary way, it can be argued that it falls short of depicting Lyanna as a better horserider than Brandon. The lines “He loved to ride. His little sister took after him in that.” depict Lyanna following in Brandon’s footsteps regarding horseriding skill, rather than surpassing him, which makes sense because, as Harwin is to Arya, Brandon is older and more experienced than Lyanna.

If Lyanna was the Knight of the Laughing Tree who convincingly unhorsed three grown men who nonetheless each earned a knighthood and were champions for a day in the most competitive tourney in three decades, being in possession of horseriding skill less than or equal to Brandon paints a picture of Lyanna’s horseriding skill that’s more realistic than the beyond-prodigal levels of horseriding skill it would require to overcome the 25% disadvantage of having little or no jousting experience, without contradicting the noteworthiness of Lyanna’s horseriding skill or any of the passages in evidence of it. In other words, it can still be true that Lyanna was a phenomenal horserider without that affording her the unrealistic ability to defeat grown men at jousting in a particularly competitive tournament.

The Elephant in the Room

u/CydeWeys

7 points 2017

I’d also like to address the elephant in the room: It’s just not plausible that an untrained fifteen year old girl would beat a handful of trained, fully grown men in simulated combat. One, as a fluke? Sure. But to do so repeatedly? I’m not buying it. [1]

Shifting into story-mode interpretation, one point from this side of the debate regarding Lyanna being the Knight of the Laughing Tree is to refer to Meera’s story itself. Meera’s story contains a line that forces the biological differences between men and women into the foreground.

“Whoever he was, the old gods gave strength to his arm.” (ASOS Bran II)

The line is predicated on arm strength being an important factor for jousting in general, as well as for the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s success specifically. It makes sense that arm strength would be important in a sport about generating enough force to knock a person off a horse with a giant stick, but physics are sometimes counterintuitive, too.

In the first Dunk and Egg novella, called The Mystery Knight, A Song of Ice and Fire gives me a close-up look at a jousting tournament.

His size and strength would stand him in good stead in a melee, and he knew he could give as good as he got. Jousting was another matter. (—Thoughts of Dunk, The Mystery Knight)

“You seem a healthy fellow, and very large. Size will always impress the fools, though it means little and less in jousting. (—Uthor to Dunk, The Mystery Knight)

These are two passages from The Mystery Knight that clearly play down the importance of size and strength in jousting success. Plainly, the passages support the Lyanna side of the debate.

Absent a description of Lyanna being “short of stature”, Lyanna’s opponents sometimes consider it noteworthy that Lyanna’s proponents give much importance to the natural differences between men and women on the issue of height, only later to play them down on the issue of arm strength. Still, height and arm strength are different things.

In this way, the story may be showing me that the jousting issue owes its position of importance in the discussion to a compulsion within Lyanna’s proponents to ignore the obvious.

u/IllyrioMoParties

0 points 2018

It’s not realistic

The real question is whether GRRM thinks the riot grrl bullshit is more important than realism [1]

Alternatively, the story may be showing me that Lyanna’s opponents in the audience either don’t understand how stories work, or they feel a compulsion to ignore the obvious relationships between the Lyanna horseriding passages and how they refer to the Knight of the Laughing Tree mystery so effectively as to reveal the author’s intent.

Many discussions have gone into much greater depth than I have here regarding the question of Lyanna’s jousting ability. I’ve gone deep enough for our needs in Forest Love and Forest Lass, because those discussions fizzle out in the same way that they have now: One side clings to the physical implausibility while apparently ignoring the narrative cohesion, and the other side clings to the narrative cohesion while apparently ignoring the physical implausibility.

A Booming Voice

When his fallen foes sought to ransom horse and armor, the Knight of the Laughing Tree spoke in a booming voice through his helm, saying, ‘Teach your squires honor, that shall be ransom enough.’ (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

Of the handful of Knight of the Laughing Tree’s characteristics that we know about for certain, the booming voice is often referenced, on both sides of the discussion, as the one characteristic that is difficult to match with Lyanna, especially in a way that feels narratively satisfying.

u/hollowaydivision

9 points 2019

The booming voice is always what gets me.

Maybe it was Benjen, and the booming voice was just a loud male voice. Benjen might have had the same riding abilities as his sister and brother. [1]

We could use a magical explanation. Meera’s story makes magical explanations readily available: crannog magic, the green men, the children of the forest and the Old Gods.

“And so the little crannogman’s prayer was answered … by the green men, or the old gods, or the children of the forest, who can say?” (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

Still, magical explanations don’t seem to gain as much traction as I might expect on a fantasy audience. There’s a sense that it would make for an unsatisfying resolution to the mystery of the booming voice, as well as to the debates — the booming voice having become a central and heated issue.

u/IllyrioMoParties

3 points 2021

“Also people keep saying it’s impossible for a girl to affect a deep and booming voice for two muffled sentences? Like that’s unheard of in fiction or reality for that matter?”

Your voice can either go that low or it can’t. Plus, the lowest pitch you can hit cannot be hit at higher volumes. It’s that bloody sexual dimorphism again I’m afraid [1]

A more popular and I think stronger case for Lyanna producing the mystery knight’s “booming voice” is that her voice resonated within the knight’s helmet. The phrase “through his helm” is right there in the story, its existence demanding some explanation of the author’s intent that’s more substantive than the meaning of an identical sentence that doesn’t have those three words:

When his fallen foes sought to ransom horse and armor, the Knight of the Laughing Tree spoke in a booming voice, saying through his helm, ‘Teach your squires honor, that shall be ransom enough.’ (ASOS Bran II)

When his fallen foes sought to ransom horse and armor, the Knight of the Laughing Tree spoke in a booming voice, saying, ‘Teach your squires honor, that shall be ransom enough.’ (Not in the books)

Yet still, some readers find this helmet explanation implausible and unsatisfying, despite that it makes at least some sense for explaining the in-story events as well as the author’s out-of-story intent.

Posted by u/benjamin7887

9 points 2018

But the Lyanna theory has holes too, like the Knight speaking in a deep booming voice, it would be really bizarre for Lyanna to be able to imitate a deep booming male voice. [1]

Once again, the discussion has fizzled out in a particular way. One side clings to the physical implausibility while apparently ignoring the narrative cohesion, and the other side clings to the narrative cohesion while apparently ignoring the physical implausibility.

With this fizzle-out pattern, the story may be showing me that the booming voice issue owes its position of importance in the discussion to a compulsion within Lyanna’s opponents to reject the obvious truth that Lyanna is the Knight of the Laughing Tree, or that Lyanna’s opponents don’t understand the story, or stories in general.

Alternatively, the story may be showing me that Lyanna’s proponents are compelled to ignore that the helmet explanation of the booming voice damages the story’s believability and quality, as those qualities have been established by the story so far.

Since this tension is where discussions about the Knight of the Laughing Tree often converge, maybe they’re supposed to. The pivotal question, then, appears to be about which thing is more important; Narrative cohesion or physical plausibility? In other words, story or realism?

Next: Chapter 6 – The Crannogman’s Bullshit

Forest Love and Forest Lass – Chapter 4

Previous: Chapter 3 – The Knight of the Laughing Tree, a Rose in a Wasteland

Jon Snow’s Parentage

The mystery of the identities of Jon Snow’s parents, particularly his mother, has always been at the center of A Song of Ice and Fire discussion, and for good reason. The issue emerges in many of the first several chapters in A Game of Thrones, and re-emerges consistently throughout the entire series. Let’s look at three of those times in AGOT.

1 – Bastard Snow

Bran’s bastard brother Jon Snow moved closer. “Keep the pony well in hand,” he whispered. “And don’t look away. Father will know if you do.” (AGOT Bran I)

The mystery of Jon Snow’s parentage is represented in his very name. The surname Snow is given to bastards born in the north, a permanent reminder of the illegitimacy of Jon’s parentage.

2 – Five Trueborn Children

“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.” (AGOT Bran I)

Jon Snow’s parentage comes up when Jon helps his half-siblings gain their father’s permission to keep the direwolf pups, by disqualifying himself for a pup on the grounds of his illegitimate parentage.

3 – He Is My Blood

The Lady Ashara Dayne, tall and fair, with haunting violet eyes. It had taken her a fortnight to marshal her courage, but finally, in bed one night, Catelyn had asked her husband the truth of it, asked him to his face.

That was the only time in all their years that Ned had ever frightened her. “Never ask me about Jon,” he said, cold as ice. “He is my blood, and that is all you need to know. And now I will learn where you heard that name, my lady.” She had pledged to obey; she told him; and from that day on, the whispering had stopped, and Ashara Dayne’s name was never heard in Winterfell again. (—Thoughts of Catelyn, AGOT Catelyn II)

Jon Snow’s parentage comes up when Catelyn remembers the time she asked Ned about rumors of Ashara Dayne being Jon’s mother.

Each reminder of the mystery of Jon Snow’s parentage that I’ve mentioned so far has one or more complications to it that causes well-versed readers to raise a finger, hum a note of objection and say something to the effect of “Yes, but… .” Let’s look at the same three passages again to see what more is going on.

1 – Bastard Snow R+L=J

Bran’s bastard brother Jon Snow moved closer. “Keep the pony well in hand,” he whispered. “And don’t look away. Father will know if you do.” (AGOT Bran I)

The surname Snow is given to bastards born in the North, just as other bastard surnames are given to bastards born in other regions. If Jon is the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna, then Jon must have been born in the south, and probably at the Tower of Joy in Dorne. In Dorne, bastards are given the surname Sand. So the Snow surname is hiding Jon’s parentage from King Robert Baratheon, who might likely have Jon killed if he ever finds out that Jon is a Targaryen.

The king jerked the reins hard, quieting the animal, and pointed an angry finger at Ned. “I will kill every Targaryen I can get my hands on, until they are as dead as their dragons, and then I will piss on their graves.” (—Robert, AGOT Eddard II)

2 – Five Trueborn Children R+L=J

“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.” (AGOT Bran I)

In this chapter, the group finds five direwolf pups. Jon helps persuade Ned to let the Stark kids keep the pups by pointing out the symbolic meaning in five being both the number of pups and the number of Ned’s trueborn children. The symbolic meaning only works because Jon omits himself from the count by saying “trueborn children” instead of “children.” At the end of the chapter, Jon goes to investigate a noise and returns to the group with a sixth direwolf pup that he keeps for himself. It breaks the symbolic meaning because the numbers don’t match anymore. That is, until you consider R+L=J.

If Jon is the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna, and if Rhaegar and Lyanna married in secret, then Jon is actually a trueborn Stark child, matching his words “You have ___ trueborn children” in an unexpected way. The sixth direwolf pup can be interpreted as a strong clue that Jon is a trueborn Stark child after all. He would just be the trueborn Stark child of Rhaegar and Lyanna rather than Ned and an unknown woman.

Additionally, R+L=J would mean that Jon is a trueborn Stark child who Ned “has” (custody of) because Ned acquired Jon after Lyanna died, presumably when she let go of her hold on life after Ned gave his promise and she knew that her baby was safe.

So Jon’s discovery of a sixth direwolf pup at the last moment of the chapter lends validity to the secret marriage version of R+L=J, because it infuses this passage with these meanings, and otherwise the meanings wouldn’t work.

3 – He Is My Blood R+L=J

The Lady Ashara Dayne, tall and fair, with haunting violet eyes. It had taken her a fortnight to marshal her courage, but finally, in bed one night, Catelyn had asked her husband the truth of it, asked him to his face.

That was the only time in all their years that Ned had ever frightened her. “Never ask me about Jon,” he said, cold as ice. “He is my blood, and that is all you need to know. And now I will learn where you heard that name, my lady.” She had pledged to obey; she told him; and from that day on, the whispering had stopped, and Ashara Dayne’s name was never heard in Winterfell again. (—Thoughts of Catelyn, AGOT Catelyn II)

If Jon is the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna, then Ned’s statement “he is my blood” is just as true as it would be if Jon was the son of Ned and another woman, except in a way that Catelyn misunderstands. In that case, Jon is Ned’s nephew rather than his son, and so Catelyn’s feelings about Jon are misinformed. In this way, Catelyn’s unfavorable treatment of Jon is revealed to have been even more misplaced than it already was, because Ned was not unfaithful to Catelyn after all. This boost in meaning lends validity to the R+L=J idea, because it infuses this passage with these meanings, and otherwise the meanings wouldn’t work.

As I can see from these three passages, the idea that Rhaegar and Lyanna are Jon Snow’s parents has a massive amount of explanatory power over the text. Since the R+L=J theory can infuse so much of A Song of Ice and Fire with deeper meanings like this, it’s no mystery why the audience relies upon R+L=J as an anchor from which to make sense of other mysteries, such as the mystery about why Rhaegar crowned Lyanna the queen of love and beauty, and the identity of the Knight of the Laughing Tree. The consistency with which R+L=J helps us make sense of the story is so strong as to make the author’s intentions unmistakeable.

The R+L=J anchor helps us explain The Two Mysteries and The Relationship Between The Two Mysteries like this:

u/PirateRobotNinjaofDe

24 points 2021

Reading between the lines of the story, it seems highly likely that Lyanna was the Knight of the Laughing Tree and that Rhaegar succeeded in tracking her down, per his father’s command, and that confronting her and confirming this identity is how they met and fell in love. [1]

King Aerys commanded Rhaegar to bring him the mystery knight to be unmasked. When Rhaegar found the mystery knight removing his armor in the forest, Rhaegar discovered that it was a girl, no less than the wild northern beauty Lyanna Stark. Rhaegar fell in love with her beauty, her heroism and her moral fiber all at once, having learned during the investigation what Lyanna did for the little crannogman.

There’s variation in the details, like maybe Lyanna wasn’t removing her armor yet, or maybe Rhaegar witnessed Lyanna rescuing the crannogman. In any case, the gist is the same. Rhaegar found the Knight of the Laughing Tree, learned that it was Lyanna and fell in love with Lyanna. That’s why Rhaegar crowned Lyanna the queen of love and beauty, either wanting to express his love or simply to reward her for her good deeds. Though not without its misfortunes, tragedies and oddities, it’s a plausible, romantic and heartfelt sequence of events in the context of a gritty setting.

R+L=J helps us explain Jon Snow’s parentage after the tourney like this:

u/LChris24

-1 point 2018

I can’t think of a better theory that makes sense with the narrative, of why Rhaegar would “kidnap” her. [1]

When Rhaegar fell upon Lyanna in the riverlands, they went together to one of Rhaegar’s favorite hangouts the Tower of Joy. There, Rhaegar assigned three Kingsguard and some handmaids to guard Lyanna and assist her in pregnancy and childbirth. Jon Snow was born. Lyanna lay dying from childbirth while Ned and his men slew the Kingsguard. With her last breaths Lyanna begged Ned to promise to care for Jon and protect him from Robert. Ned gave his promise.

Again, there’s room to quibble about the details, but the audience is mostly consistent about the gist.

This narrative of events has been discussed and debated hundreds of times over the years. However, many readers feel that, while this narrative works in some ways, it is ultimately insufficient. A major reason given for the insufficiency is that Lyanna was a fourteen- to fifteen-year-old girl or young woman at the time of the tourney, and small of frame, and therefore she would not have been able to realistically win the jousts that the mystery knight won.

u/[deleted]

26 points 2019

If Lyanna is the KoLT then this is ridiculous. A 14 year old girl beat three grown men who are experienced knights shown to be good at jousting, consecutively. All while wearing full heavy armour and carrying a lance. [1]

In addition to this reason, and perhaps more significantly, these readers express a sense that even when the unrealism is put aside, the proposed narrative with Lyanna as the Knight of the Laughing Tree is not satisfying enough.

u/[deleted]

26 points 2019

I can’t help but remind myself of Oberyn vs the Mountain. This one dude rapes a guys sister so he fights him in a battle to the death and he ends up dying because ones morality is irrelevant in a fight. This is not meant to be a story of morality always prevailing it’s about realism and the harsh truth. And this is why Lyanna being the Knight of the Laughing Tree is a ridiculous concept within the series. [1]

By the same token, many readers find narratives with other characters being the Knight of the Laughing Tree to be insufficient, too.

u/sean_psc

6 points 2018

Narratively, I don’t think it can be anyone other than Lyanna.

One of the above posts makes the argument that it was Ned, and purely on a details basis that’s more plausible than Lyanna being a tourney knight, but it falls apart on a thematic/narrative level, for the simple reason that Ned being the Knight of the Laughing Tree is a pointless mystery. What does it matter?

Lyanna being the Knight ties the whole thing together, explaining how she met Rhaegar, why Rhaegar was so taken with her in particular, etc. There’s a reason why the Knight’s identity would be a mystery with a narratively significant answer.
[1]

As with the objections to Lyanna, the objections to other characters being the Knight of the Laughing Tree go deeper than mundane mismatches. While Ned’s sex seems like a more appropriate match with the mystery knight’s jousting accomplishments and booming voice, these readers express a thematic dissatisfaction with the Ned narrative. The lingering questions with the Ned narrative are why, then, did Rhaegar crown Lyanna the queen of love and beauty? And how else do we explain Jon’s parentage?

Similarly, the Jon’s parentage part of the R+L=J explanation is unsatisfactory to some readers, too. One reason given is that it doesn’t do a good enough job of explaining why Ned kept Jon’s parentage a secret from Catelyn. If much of Catelyn’s problem with Jon is that he’s a reminder of Ned’s unfaithfulness, and if Jon is really Ned’s nephew, then shouldn’t the news of Jon’s parentage come as a relief to Catelyn because it means Ned was not unfaithful to her after all? Wouldn’t Catelyn be on board with protecting her husband’s nephew from Robert? It seems unnecessarily cruel of Ned to allow Catelyn to go on believing that he was unfaithful to her and resenting Jon because of it when Ned was not really unfaithful at all.

In the pinned R+L=J compendium thread called “R + L = J v.167” at Westeros.org, these questions are addressed this way:

Ygrain

2020

Why would Ned not at least tell Catelyn?

We don’t have a list of what Ned promised to Lyanna, but know he takes his promises seriously. Maybe he promised not to tell anyone. In Chapter 45, Ned is uncertain what Cat would do if it came to Jon’s life over that of her own children. If Catelyn knew that Jon was Rhaegar’s son, she might feel that keeping him at Winterfell presented a serious risk to her own children. Ultimately, Catelyn did not need to know, so maybe Ned simply chose to be on the safe side. [1]

The debates are beyond counting, and they go back and forth this way for every minute passage and detail related to the mysteries of Jon Snow’s parentage, the identity of the Knight of the Laughing Tree, Rhaegar crowning Lyanna the queen of love and beauty, and Robert’s Rebellion. Whoever Jon’s parents really are, readers know that the answer should fit all of these events logistically, narratively and bring greater understanding to them. Theories that attempt to do just that are sometimes called Grand Unifying Theories (GUTs).

Alternative Theories

The theories about Jon’s parentage that are alternative to R+L=J are unpopular, but two of the least unpopular ones are Brandon and Ashara (B+A=J), and Ned and Ashara (N/E+A=J). In either case, a significant difference from R+L=J is that, if the couple married in secret, that would mean that not only is Jon a legitimate Stark, but he also comes before Catelyn’s children in the line of Stark inheritance.

To these readers, that seems like a better explanation for the reason Ned kept Jon’s parentage a secret from Catelyn than the reason R+L=J provides. In that case, rather than protecting Jon from Robert’s hatred of Targaryens, Ned’s secrecy was protecting his family and the stability of the north against the risk of claim disputes between Catelyn’s children and Jon. In a story that has a history full of betrayals, wars and rebellions based on which child has the stronger claim to this or that castle or throne, this explanation seems compelling despite that it doesn’t answer the other mysteries or necessarily relate to them. Readers who subscribe to these theories feel that R+L=J reaches too far by making Jon a claimant to the Iron Throne, when Jon being a claimant to Winterfell has just as much explanatory power over Ned’s secrecy. In that case, B+A=J and N+A=J would contain a sort of built-in criticism of the audience for overlooking a more level-headed interpretation due to a fixation on power.

Additionally, if Jon is the son of Ashara, that would mean he’s a Dayne, making him elligible to receive the Dayne ancestral sword Dawn and its Sword of the Morning mantle.

“The finest knight I ever saw was Ser Arthur Dayne, who fought with a blade called Dawn, forged from the heart of a fallen star. They called him the Sword of the Morning, and he would have killed me but for Howland Reed.” (—Eddard to Bran, ACOK Bran III)

Jon already has a Valyrian steel sword called Longclaw, but maybe some of the appeal of the Jon’s parentage theories that include Ashara is rooted in a desire for Jon to have Dawn, too.

u/frankwalsingham

5 points 2021

The biggest point against Ashara being his mother is, what if she is? What would be the result?

u/Mithras_Stoneborn

1 point 2021

Jon gets to inherit a shiny sword and singlehandedly saves the world with it. [1]

u/yushaliraza

3 points 2021

He will have two shiny swords instead of one

u/silentiumau

3 points 2019

That is a commonly used extra-textual justification for N+A=J. What I find ironic about it is that many N+A=J believers object to R+L=J because R+L=J is “too tropey, GRRM wouldn’t play the ‘hidden hero’ trope straight like that.”

But “Jon could become the Sword of the Morning” is playing the “hidden hero” trope straight!

u/frankwalsingham

115 points 2022

As far as I understand, people want Jon to wield Dawn. [1]

HBO’s Game of Thrones

Perhaps the single strongest influence over the discussions about Jon Snow’s parentage was felt during the airing and aftermath of HBO’s Game of Thrones (the show). In the show, Jon Snow’s parents are explicitly revealed to be Rhaegar and Lyanna, and that plays a big role in the show afterwards regarding whose claim to the Iron Throne is the strongest.

On May 20, 2019, Martin wrote a blog post entitled “An Ending” in which he celebrated the TV show’s final season.

Can it really have been more than a decade since my manager Vince Gerardis set up a meeting at The Palm in L.A., and I sat down for the first time with David Benioff and D.B. Weiss for a lunch that lasted well past dinner? I asked them if they knew who Jon Snow’s mother was. Fortunately, they did.

That was how it started. It ended last night. [1]

Even still, some small portion of readers persist with denying R+L=J, pointing out that there’s supposedly a pattern of ambiguity in Martin’s choice of words, or a lingering sense of cautiousness that should have no more reason to linger. Granted, the term “An Ending” is a mildly curious contrast to the perhaps more natural term “The Ending” or “The End.”

These readers point out that Martin may be leaning on the ambiguity in the meaning of the word “knew.”

I asked them if they knew who Jon Snow’s mother was. Fortunately, they did.

It’s possible to know something to be correct without it actually being correct. In that case, the word “knew” is referring to Dave and Dan’s certainty about what they know rather than the accuracy of it.

On a first impression, that interpretation seems so desperate as to call into question the mental health of the people making it. But when I look closely at A Song of Ice and Fire, I can see that the characters in the story often use language in the same way, in order to lie to each other, mislead, obfuscate, entertain, and, in Martin’s case, to conceal clues to the story’s mysteries.

“Tell me, Theon, how many men did Mors Umber have with him at Winterfell?”

“None. No men.” He grinned at his own wit. “He had boys. I saw them.” Aside from a handful of half-crippled serjeants, the warriors that Crowfood had brought down from Last Hearth were hardly old enough to shave. (—Stannis and Theon, TWOW Theon I)

If Martin is willing to abuse language this way in his story, I can understand why some readers don’t consider it farfetched that he would abuse language the same way when he’s talking about his story.

How will it all end? I hear people asking. The same ending as the show? Different?

Well… yes. And no. And yes. And no. And yes. And no. And yes.

I am working in a very different medium than David and Dan, never forget.

Martin’s blog post proceeds in unapologetic ambiguity.

Book or show, which will be the “real” ending? It’s a silly question. How many children did Scarlett O’Hara have?

How about this? I’ll write it. You read it. Then everyone can make up their own mind, and argue about it on the internet.

The question “How many children did Scarlett O’Hara have?” is one that Martin asks commonly when he’s asked about the relationship between the ending of the show and the ending he has in mind for the books. Scarlett O’Hara is the protagonist of the book Gone with the Wind (1936) and its film adaptation of the same name three years later. In the book, Scarlett O’Hara had three children. In the film, she had one child.

So the question “How many children did Scarlett O’Hara have?” is meant to reframe the issue as a matter of personal preference rather than factual record. Some people liked the book better than the movie, and some people liked the movie better than the book. Without a doubt, the same will be true of Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire. The question of which story is the better or authentic story is answered by each individual person, as precariously a matter of fact as stories ever are.

Martin’s meaning in asking the question, then, may be something to the effect of ‘Whichever version of the story survives the test of time.’ This is in keeping with Martin’s tendency to evade or provide misleading answers to questions that strike at the mysteries and deeper meanings of his stories.

On Jimmy Kimmel Live, directors David and Dan retold the story of their first meeting with George R. R. Martin.

Jimmy: And George- you guys obviously hit it off.

David: We took him out for lunch here in L.A. at The Palm, and we had a really good- we had a four hour lunch. And at the very end of lunch, he was sitting there kind of looking between the two of us, and he said “Who is Jon Snow’s mother?”

Jimmy: Oh!

David: And it was a test question. I’ll always remember this. George had a little bit of butter in his beard, and I’ll always- it’s just one of those images that gets, you know, stamped in your brain.

Dan: We invested so much of ourselves and so much hope in this, and it was that feeling of like, if you mess this up, it’s all gonna go away.

Jimmy: Who fielded that question?

Dan: We luckily- weirdly, we had both talked about it, because we’d read the book again by that point. And when you read it a second time, if you’re paying attention, it’s- you can kind of tell who Jon Snow’s mother is. So we had an answer that we thought was right and it turned out — not to spoil it for anybody who hasn’t seen it yet — it turned out to be the right answer.

Jimmy: Okay. So we know from the show that that’s the same mother from the book that’s in the show.

Dan and Dave: Yes. (2020) [1]

That Martin would ask this question, as opposed to any other question, in order to quickly gauge whether or not he should give Dave and Dan permission to adapt his story for the screen suggests that, for some reason or another, Martin considers the question a good litmus test for A Song of Ice and Fire understanding. Considering the whole situation: Dave and Dan’s story; the way Jon Snow’s parentage played out in the show; the scope and cost of HBO’s Game of Thrones; its prominence in the culture; and its influence in how the country and world will remember George R. R. Martin’s most popular story, the matter of Jon Snow’s parentage is more firmly settled upon R+L=J after the airing of Season 6 in 2016 than it has ever been before.

Quora Question: Why did George R. R. Martin let David Benioff & D.B. Weiss produce “Game of Thrones” based on their answer to who Jon Snow’s mother is when it seems unlikely that “R+L=J” is true in the books, even though it has become canon for the show?

Kelsey L. Hayes

217 points 2018

… Why exactly is R+L=J “unlikely” to be “true in the books”? I’d strongly dispute that assertion — R+L=J is true on the show because it is also true in the books. Every single argument otherwise just strikes me as contrarian peacocking (“look how subversive I am, pay attention to meeeeee!”) or goalpost-moving:

  • “Well R+L=J hasn’t been confirmed yet!”
  • “Well Lyanna may be Jon’s mother but it’s not confirmed that Rhaegar is his father!”
  • “Well the show may have confirmed R+L=J but it may be different in the books!”

Friends. It’s not different in the books. It’s the same in the books, and the show confirmed it first because the show has jumped ahead of where the books are. That’s it. That’s literally all it is.

As for why solving the mystery of Jon’s mother made GRRM give his blessing, only he can answer that for sure. I would guess though that it told GRRM that D&D “got” his writing, that they were able to look beyond the face-value red herring crap and get to the meat of what the story was actually about. R+L=J is the biggest mystery in the story, but it’s not the only one, and generally GRRM treats his mysteries in the same way, i.e. the solution is rarely if ever spelled out. So if they can “get” R+L=J, they can “get” the other aspects of the story. Solving R+L=J would tell GRRM that they could comprehend his writing style and the structure of his mystery-writing, and if they could do that, they understood the story well enough to do it justice on television. [1]

Still, when Martin’s meaning with the “Scarlett O’Hara” comment is placed beside the blog post title “An Ending,” Martin’s openness to there being a plurality of endings to his story seems to inform the meaning of the blog post title, by reserving HBO’s Game of Thrones a position beside A Song of Ice and Fire as one of multiple valid versions of the story. That suggests that Martin’s version will not be the same as the show version, because Martin would have no need to accommodate multiple versions of the story using the phrase “An Ending” if both versions are the same.

Years earlier, during the airing of season four in 2014, Rolling Stone published an interview with George R. R. Martin that contained some questions about Jon Snow’s parentage and Martin’s fateful meeting with producers David and Dan.

Mikal: Benioff and Weiss later said that during that meeting you asked them who they think Jon Snow’s mother was, which is one of the earliest — and seemingly one of the central — mysteries in A Song of Ice and Fire.

George: I did ask that at one point, just to see how closely they’d read the text.

Mikal: Did they get it right?

George: They answered correctly. (Rolling Stone, Apr 28, 2014) [1]

To the disappointment of the R+L=J deniers and holdouts throughout the book audience, Martin’s response “They answered correctly” is so direct and precise that there can be no question about his meaning. After the airing of season six, this quote is retroactively the final nail in the coffin of alternative Jon Snow’s parentage theories, finally putting the debates to rest once and for all.

Well, if you really thought that would end the debates about Jon Snow’s parentage, I have a breastplate stretcher to sell you.

If Jon’s parents are in fact Rhaegar and Lyanna, why didn’t Martin answer the question with a simple “Yes?”

George: They answered correctly.

Maybe he wanted to answer as precisely as he could, because he’s tired of the R+L=J deniers pressuring him to divulge the answers to his story’s mysteries.

On the other hand, maybe Martin greenlit Game of Thrones because David and Dan got the answer wrong. It’s conceivable that Martin might want to save some of the mystery for his books. In that case, answering “correctly” means answering wrong regarding Jon Snow’s parentage, and answering right regarding the TV show’s production.

The result is that, intentionally or not, the “they answered correctly” reply functions like a Rorschach inkblot test, taking the form of whichever side of the argument better characterizes the reader’s attitudes when he approaches it. This, too, reflects A Song of Ice and Fire’s style of mystery, echoing a sentiment shared by some of the story’s deadliest movers.

“Men see what they expect to see,” Varys said as he fussed and pulled. (—Varys to Tyrion, ACOK Tyrion III)

“Men see what they expect to see, Alayne.” (—Littlefinger to Sansa, AFFC Alayne I)

“Men see what they expect to see.” (—Melisandre, ADWD Melisandre I)

If Jon’s parentage reveal in the show is an undisputable indication of the correctness of David and Dan’s answer to Martin during that meeting, then Jon’s parents must be Rhaegar and Lyanna in the books, too. However, there was more said in that interview than is normally repeated in discussions, and that gains new intrigue after the R+L=J reveal in the show.

Mikal: Did they get it right?

George: They answered correctly.

Mikal: Some readers, I think, would also ask who Jon Snow’s father truly is, even though Jon was always claimed to be Ned Stark’s bastard son.

George: [Martin smiles] On this I shall not speak. I shall maintain my enigmatic silence, until I get to it in the books. (Rolling Stone, Apr 28, 2014)

Martin’s answer about the identity of Jon Snow’s father casts doubt upon his answer just before it about Jon Snow’s mother.

He says he wants to keep his silence about the identity of Jon Snow’s father, but if R+L=J then aren’t the answers to the questions of Jon Snow’s mother and father one and the same? What secrecy remains on the matter to cause him to answer differently regarding Jon’s father compared to Jon’s mother? The phrase “until I get to it in the books” suggests that, even provided that R+L=J is a “correct” answer to the identities of Jon Snow’s parents, there’s apparently some hidden distinction between R+L=J being correct and the identities of Jon Snow’s parents that warrants secrecy.

To conclude this chapter, on the far ends of the R+L=J polarity, one side says that R+L=J is undeniable, that other possibilities are insufficient, and that anybody who thinks otherwise is missing the deeper meanings of the story. At the other far end they say that R+L=J cannot be entirely correct because it leaves too many things unexplained, that other possibilities are worth considering, and that anybody who thinks otherwise is missing the deeper meanings of the story. While the question of Jon Snow’s parentage is certainly polarized in the audience between R+L=J and R+L=/=J, many readers are somewhere in the middle, stopping short of absolute certainty either way, or deriving entertainment from the polarization itself.

u/yarkcir

18 points 2019

R+L=J is going to be the case, but I want R+L=/=J simply to see the subsequent meltdown. [1]

Whatever the identities of Jon’s parents turn out to be in the books, most people on both sides of the discussion acknowledge that A Song of Ice and Fire is written in a way that significantly accommodates the idea that Jon’s parents are Rhaegar and Lyanna, if not that the story’s and author’s intentions in leading us to that idea are unmistakeable.

u/JohnDoeSnow

2 points 2015

r+L=J is one of those things, where once you notice it, you can never not notice it.

I heard of the theory before I started reading the books, and it was glaringly obvious when looking through AGOT, even the editor figured it out [1]

The recognition I come away with and that demands resolution is one that readers are all too familiar with:

Discussions about Jon Snow’s parentage converge on a tension between ‘R+L=J is a good enough explanation‘ and ‘R+L=J is not a good enough explanation.’

Next: Chapter 5 – Booming Voices and Jousting Horses

Forest Love and Forest Lass – Chapter 3

Previous: Chapter 2 – The Tourney at Harrenhal

The Knight of the Laughing Tree, a Rose in a Wasteland

Meera Reed’s telling of the Tourney at Harrenhal is a chunk of text that makes up the bulk of the chapter Bran II, filling out no less than six pages in my paperback copy of A Storm of Swords (p279 if you want to reread it or follow along).

knight helm crop

For readers who have visited the Knight of the Laughing Tree mystery many times, we often feel as though we’ve said everything there is to say. Without a doubt, in the dozens of Knight of the Laughing Tree discussions I’ve read over the years, a small handful of details such as the “booming voice” and ones pertaining to jousting ability received the greatest share of attention. We have a tendency to rapidly hone-in on the parts of the mystery that are debated the most hotly, perhaps sensing that, in some way or another, those debates are the point.

u/AlanCrowkiller

2 points 2014

You don’t have to like it but you’re going to have to suck it up and accept it that Martin is fine with his world being a place where a fourteen year old girl can joust with grown men. [1]

Since attention and time are limited, it’s a smart way to approach the mystery. As a consequence, however, there may be much to learn by tilting at parts that receive less attention and approaching the Tourney at Harrenhal in different ways or with different questions.

This time, let’s approach Meera’s story as a story, and do our best to forget about the real identities of the characters. For example, we won’t think of the crannogman as Howland Reed, we’ll just think of him as the crannogman. The wolf maid won’t be Lyanna, she’ll be the wolf maid, no less and no more. We’ll leave behind everything we know about their real identities, and instead use only the information that Meera’s story provides. I’ll call this way of interpreting the story ‘story-mode’ interpretation.

What is the story about? The story is about a heroic knight. Three squires beat up the crannogman, and then he was rescued by the she-wolf. That night, the crannogman left the quiet wolf’s tent to say a prayer beside the lake. The next day, the mystery knight appeared in the jousting tournament and defeated all three of the offending squires’ knights, to the cheering of the crowd, winning ownership of their horses and armor. When the knights came to the mystery knight to ransom (buy back) their horses and armor, the mystery knight said:

“(…) ‘Teach your squires honor, that shall be ransom enough.’ Once the defeated knights chastised their squires sharply, their horses and armor were returned. And so the little crannogman’s prayer was answered … by the green men, or the old gods, or the children of the forest, who can say?” (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

As of A Dance with Dragons, this act of heroism is the clearest and cleanest instance of heroism in the entire series of A Song of Ice and Fire. In a story where no character’s hands ever stay perfectly clean, the Knight of the Laughing Tree stands out like a rose in a frozen wasteland. He or she is the one character that potentially belies A Song of Ice and Fire’s apparent thousands-page-long proposition that maybe genuine heroes only exist in naive fictional stories.

Frog-faced Lord Slynt sat at the end of the council table wearing a black velvet doublet and a shiny cloth-of-gold cape, nodding with approval every time the king pronounced a sentence. Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. “Life is not a song, sweetling,” he’d told her. “You may learn that one day to your sorrow.” In life, the monsters win, she told herself, (…) (—Thoughts of Sansa, AGOT Sansa VI)

It’s no wonder, then, why readers are ravenous to know the knight’s true identity, and why we’re eager to propose our most beloved characters as the knight.

But if we ever do learn the mystery knight’s true identity, and if it’s a character we already know, we would then be able to know his other deeds in life, too. Without a doubt, his hands would have some dirt on them like everyone else’s do, because nobody can be perfect. So it’s possible and perhaps likely that the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s heroism is merely a consequence of information about him being so limited, it being confined to this one event. In that way, the story would demonstrate that genuine heroes really do only exist in fictional stories, and that the only way to convince us otherwise was to keep us naive about his other deeds.

As a result, the thematic stakes of the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s identity could not be higher. ‘Who was A Song of Ice and Fire’s only true hero? And was he really a hero? And was he really a he?’

So what is it, exactly, that makes the Knight of the Laughing Tree seem so heroic? It’s selflessness. At every crossroad he encounters, he chooses the most selfless path.

  • He could have ignored the needs of the crannogman, the prayer, or whatever it was that compelled him to defeat the three knights. Doing nothing would have been easier than doing all that.
  • He could have kept the horses and armor for himself, having already achieved a symbolic justice for the crannogman by defeating the offending squires’ knights.
  • He could have given the horses and armors to the crannogman, transferring wealth from the offending party to the offended party and thereby punishing the knights for neglecting to teach their squires honor and simultaneously compensating the crannogman for the damage he suffered to his body and pride.
  • I can even see how the Knight of the Laughing Tree rescued the crannogman from the crannogman himself. The crannogman wanted revenge against the squires, but he didn’t know how to joust in order to get it by jousting. There’s no telling which ugly alternative he might have resorted to if the Knight of the Laughing Tree had not been there to alleviate the injustice of the situation.
  • The Knight of the Laughing Tree could have revealed his own identity after winning the jousts. Doing so would have pleased the lustful audience and transferred the love and renown that was earned for his fake identity to his real identity.

As it happens, when I look at all of the mystery knights that have been mentioned in A Song of Ice and Fire (as of A Dance with Dragons) the Knight of the Laughing Tree is the only one whose identity remains unknown.

  • The Knight of Tears was Aemon Targaryen
  • The mystery knight at Blackhaven was Barristan Selmy
  • The mystery knight at King’s Landing was Barristan Selmy
  • The mystery knight at Storm’s End was Simon Toyne
  • Blackshield was the Bastard of Uplands
  • The Gallows Knight was Ser Duncan the Tall
  • John the Fiddler was Daemon II Blackfyre
  • The Serpent in Scarlet was Jonquil Darke
  • The Silver Fool was Baelon Targaryen
  • The Knight of the Laughing Tree was …

Even among heroes, the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s selflessness stands out from all the rest.

If the hero was apparently not interested in wealth, revenge or renown, the question remains: Just what the bloody hell was motivating the Knight of the Laughing Tree?

Justice is a good answer. He achieved symbolic justice for the crannogman and literal justice for the squires, who will benefit long-term from learning honor and having their knights reminded of their duties to them. But that does not seem like a description of the Knight of Laughing Tree’s heroism that goes far enough, because the benefits to the squires will extend to their own squires in the future, and theirs after them.

Undoubtedly, much of the reason that the three knights have neglected to teach their squires enough honor so as to prevent them from beating up someone for being different can be traced back to the time when the knights were squires themselves. Their own knights must have done a poor job of teaching them honor, too, or else they wouldn’t have become negligent knights, or wouldn’t have been knighted at all. After all, only a knight can make another knight.

“Any knight can make a knight, and every man you see before you has felt a sword upon his shoulder.” (—Beric Dondarrion to Sandor Clegane, ASOS Arya VI)

It required a knight to make a knight, and if something should go awry tonight, dawn might find him dead or in a dungeon. (—Thoughts of Barristan, ADWD The Kingbreaker)

Similarly, if the Knight of the Laughing Tree had given the winnings to the crannogman rather than leveraging the winnings to compel the knights to teach their squires honor, there can be small doubt that the squires, if knighted, would have grown up to become negligent knights themselves, who would go on to produce worse squires who become even worse knights. These recognitions portray an institution of knighthood and a Westerosi tradition that are in a state of decline.

The Knight of the Laughing Tree was able to look beyond the bruised body and pride of the crannogman, the wrongdoings of the squires and the shortcomings of the knights, and see how each of those problems reaches back into history and forward into the future so as to partly implicate and exonerate every individual person and grouping of people involved. Indeed, these are problems that have mostly built up slowly over generations, one ordinary and understandable shortcoming at a time. Who can honestly say that he has never been guilty of neglecting his duties, of laziness, complacency, forgetfulness or of going too easy on the young people who depend upon him to enforce firm enough boundaries? Scarcer, still, is a person who is unable to see the seeds of his own shortcomings in the imperfections and unheroism of the people he once depended upon.

Having accounted for the sympathetic viewpoints of everyone involved in the past, present, and future, the Knight of the Laughing Tree was now able to see that there are no mustache-twirling villains in the situation, there are only ordinary people with ordinary flaws. With a mission to correct for this long history of ordinary flaws, he took the burden upon himself to rearrange costs and incentives in such a way as to motivate the three knights to do their duty to their squires, their society and ultimately their Westerosi tradition of knighthood. And he did it at risk to himself, by using his own body, skills, courage, and the imperfect institutions and traditions at hand.

Yet still… yet still… that does not seem like a description of the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s heroism that goes far enough.

What does the mystery knight represent with his identity unknown, compared to with his identity exposed? With his identity unknown, the mystery knight is just a knight — a symbol of knighthood itself. If I don’t know who he is, then I don’t know what’s wrong with him. More than that, I can never find out what’s wrong with him. I will never know how he might be failing to live up to the knightly ideal as much as I am or more.

Isn’t that the first thing everybody tries to do after we’re caught falling short of our ideals? Especially when we’re caught publicly? Instead of taking stock of myself, I tend instead to attack the ideal.

So a predictable reaction that the negligent knights and their squires might have after being publicly defeated and criticized is to find things that are wrong with the mystery knight. It’s a way to alleviate themselves of the unpleasant conscientious responsibility to admit to themselves that they’re not truly striving to be as good as they know they can be.

“I’ve never lain with any woman but Cersei. In my own way, I have been truer than your Ned ever was. Poor old dead Ned. So who has shit for honor now, I ask you? What was the name of that bastard he fathered?”

Catelyn took a step backward. “Brienne.

“No, that wasn’t it.” Jaime Lannister upended the flagon. A trickle ran down onto his face, bright as blood. “Snow, that was the one. Such a white name . . . like the pretty cloaks they give us in the Kingsguard when we swear our pretty oaths.” (—Catelyn and Jaime, ACOK Catelyn VII)

In the dungeons of Riverrun, Jaime seized upon his knowledge of a dishonorable moment in Ned’s past to attack the ideal of honor itself, as though Ned’s dishonor somehow excuse’s Jaime’s dishonor, or as though to suggest that honor is a mostly unworthy thing to strive for at all. Even the ambiguity between those two suggestions expedites the same purpose by hiding the rationale in the fog. This sort of thing happens in the minds of POV characters all throughout A Song of Ice and Fire, and it shows me much of what it means for a human heart to be in conflict with itself.

With the mystery knight’s identity forever concealed, knowledge of his imperfections and past mistakes is forever unavailable to the three knights and their squires. Being deprived of information that they might likely use in their defeated state to assault the ideal that the mystery knight represents in their own consciences, the negligent knights and dishonorable squires cannot psychologically escape judgement from their own ideal, and are forced to admit to themselves that they were wrong, lest they be haunted by their consciences ever after.

The Knight of the Laughing Tree knew that revealing his identity would risk sabotaging their chances of development. He was protecting the knights and squires from themselves even as he was reprimanding them. And therein lies the proof of his motivation and heroism. The Knight of the Laughing Tree story is not about a knight merely avenging a crannogman, rescuing a crannogman’s pride, or even righting wrongs between contemporary people. With the heroism rooted in the knight’s motivation and with his motivation proven by his anonymity, it is a story about a knight rescuing the institution of knighthood.

I think that’s why the Knight of the Laughing Tree is the fullest and truest hero in A Song of Ice and Fire to date. If there be one righteous knight in Westeros, peradventure mankind and existence are still worth loving.

To unmask the Knight of the Laughing Tree is to destroy his anonymity. To destroy the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s anonymity is to destroy the proof of his heroism. To say “the only way to convince me that genuine heroes really exist is to keep me naive about his other deeds” is to set a standard of proof of heroism that requires the destruction of the proof of the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s heroism. In this way, the true motivations behind such an attitude are exposed. For the parts of myself that agree with it, the destruction of heroism is the point. I am already engaged in an assault against my own ideal.

After Bran hears the story, he offers critiques and suggests changes that he thinks would be improvements to the story.

“That was a good story. But it should have been the three bad knights who hurt him, not their squires. Then the little crannogman could have killed them all. The part about the ransoms was stupid. And the mystery knight should win the tourney, defeating every challenger, and name the wolf maid the queen of love and beauty.” (—Bran, ASOS Bran II)

These lines from Bran show me that Bran is missing the deeper meanings of the story just like I was for so long. He thinks the story would be better if the squires were removed entirely, making the knights more villainous and more straightforwardly villains. Then, once the knights are made into one-dimensional villains, Bran thinks the knights should all be killed by the hero. Not merely defeated in the tournament, but killed! Then as reward, he wants the hero to win everything at the end, both the tourney and the girl, too.

Bran doesn’t seem to notice how these changes would destroy the story’s deeper meanings. He doesn’t notice that the Knight of the Laughing Tree is trying to fix society rather than simply avenging a crannogman and sticking it to the bad guys.

So the theme of Bran’s comments is that ‘Bran is missing the deeper meanings of the story.’

“And the mystery knight should win the tourney, defeating every challenger, and name the wolf maid the queen of love and beauty.”

“She was,” said Meera, “but that’s a sadder story.” (ASOS Bran II)

Meera doesn’t bother to tell Bran that he’s missing the deeper meanings of the story. As the storyteller, Meera represents George R. R. Martin. As Meera’s audience, Bran represents the reader.

With Meera’s final comment, the mystery of The Relationship Between The Two Mysteries stirs beneath A Song of Ice and Fire’s surface. In relationship to the theme of Bran’s comments, Meera’s line is the quietest whisper of suggestion that A Song of Ice and Fire is hiding an association between ‘missing the deeper meanings of the story’ and ‘what the dragon prince naming the wolf maid the queen of love and beauty means to the audience.’

Next: Chapter 4 – Jon Snow’s Parentage


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Update ideas and notes:

Nov 22, 2022

The reason I’m having trouble proving that the Knight of the Laughing Tree’s motivation is to fix society rather than avenge the crannogman is because it isn’t supposed to be provable. It’s supposed to be open to interpretation. This divide in the interpretation is by design, because it falls along philosophical lines such as justice versus revenge, hope versus despair, optimism versus cynicism, and hard truth versus nihilism. It also places readers on one side of these lines or the other based on how they interpret the mystery knight’s motivation.


Updated Dec 31, 2022 – minor changes
Updated Apr 16, 2023 – Added Sansa VI

Forest Love and Forest Lass – Chapter 2

Previous: Chapter 1 – The Maiden of the Tree

The Tourney at Harrenhal

To recount every joust and jape is far outside our purpose here. That task we gladly leave to the singers. Two incidents must not be passed over, however, for they would prove to have grave consequences. (—Maester Yandel, TWOIAF)

harrenhal crop

Who was the Knight of the Laughing Tree? And why did Rhaegar crown Lyanna the queen of love and beauty?

The Tourney at Harrenhal is one event that contains two mysteries. These two mysteries are inescapably entangled throughout the story. It seems that the nearer a topic is to one or both of these questions, the more it is characterized by missing information. Cryptic memories like “Promise me, Ned” and Ned’s dream about the Tower of Joy are two such topics.

This fog surrounding the two mysteries is a pattern that alludes to the existence of some unknown connection between the two mysteries that, when it becomes known, should illuminate the full truth of them both. To many readers, this connection and the story’s subtle but persistent suggestion of its existence has long seemed to be the real mystery at hand.

u/Jaomi

2 points 2018

What happened between those two is the single most critical piece of backstory, because without it, none of the rest of the tale happens. The Targs don’t go into exile and Dany doesn’t hatch the dragons. Cat marries Brandon, so the Stark kids as we know them never exist. Jon is never born. So much of the plot hinges on their relationship, that one has to believe GRRM had a fair idea of how it happened before he wrote it all out for us to read. [1]

Whatever the answer or answers to the two Tourney at Harrenhal questions, the in-story reminders of their cohabitation within the same event (such as the opening quote from Maester Yandel) suggest that there’s a relationship between them, and that the nature of the relationship is the cream of both mysteries. I call this relationship ‘The Relationship Between The Two Mysteries.’ That is the topic of Forest Love and Forest Lass moreso than either one of the two mysteries.

Identifying that there is a mystery regarding the relationship between the two mysteries is no species of master key to unlocking ASOIAF’s secrets, nor is it a license to circumvent the original two mysteries. I knew that if I wanted to have any chance of gleaning The Relationship Between The Two Mysteries, I needed to develop an intimate understanding of the two mysteries themselves as separate things. So I began where they happened, at the Tourney at Harrenhal.

The events of the Tourney at Harrenhal are provided by three different sources. Foremost of those sources is Meera Reed in the chapter ASOS Bran II. Her account is the longest and most detailed account of them all, however much the truth of the events and people that interest us might be obscured by their translation to mythology and symbols, such as “lake” for God’s Eye and “wolf pup” for Benjen.

“There was one knight,” said Meera, “in the year of the false spring. The Knight of the Laughing Tree, they called him. He might have been a crannogman, that one.” (—Meera Reed, ASOS Bran II)

Next is Maester Yandel in The World of Ice and Fire. Yandel’s account is the second longest account, however unreliable of a narrator he may or may not be.

As warm winds blew from the south, lords and knights from throughout the Seven Kingdoms made their way toward Harrenhal to compete in Lord Whent’s great tournament on the shore of the Gods Eye, which promised to be the largest and most magnificent competition since the time of Aegon the Unlikely. (—Maester Yandel, TWOIAF: The Year of the False Spring)

Next is everybody else. This is a category of sources rather than a source in and of itself, but it’s a useful category for my purpose of explaining things. Every off-handed mention, reference or allusion throughout ASOIAF of the events of, surrounding or related to the Tourney at Harrenhal by characters such as Ned, Barristan, Daenerys and Robert falls into this third category.

“And Rhaegar . . . how many times do you think he raped your sister? How many hundreds of times?” (—Robert Baratheon to Ned, AGOT Eddard II)

Meera Reed’s account sings with such thematic resonance, narrative wonder and A Song of Ice and Fire style that I have returned to pore over it more than any other text in the series. All of the characters in it are represented in symbolic terms like their House sigils, heritages, affiliations and nicknames — stylistic patterns so pervasive throughout the series that translations like “dragon” to “Targaryen” and “wolf” to “Stark” have become second-nature to the readers.

  • The crannogman = Howland Reed
  • The lake = God’s Eye
  • The castle = Harrenhal
  • The host = Walter Whent
  • The King = Aerys Targaryen
  • The dragon prince = Rhaegar Targaryen
  • The white swords = Aerys’s Kingsguard
  • The storm lord = Robert Baratheon
  • The rose lord = Mace Tyrell
  • The great lion of the rock = Tywin Lannister
  • The daughter of the castle / fair maid = Walter Whent’s daughter
  • Her four brothers = Walter Whent’s sons
  • Her uncle a white knight of the Kingsguard = Oswell Whent
  • Wife of the dragon prince = Elia Martell
  • A dozen of her lady companions = Including Ashara
  • The porcupine knight = A knight of House Blount
  • The pitchfork knight = A knight of House Haigh
  • The knight of the two/twin towers = A knight of House Frey
  • The she-wolf / wolf maid = Lyanna Stark
  • The wild wolf = Brandon Stark
  • The quiet wolf = Eddard Stark
  • The wolf pup = Benjen Stark
  • The knight of skulls and kisses = Richard Lonmouth
  • A maid with laughing purple eyes = Ashara Dayne
  • A white sword = Barristan Selmy
  • A red snake = Oberyn Martell
  • The lord of griffins = Jon Connington

With dozens of characters populating Meera’s story this way, and combined with the series’ baked-in emphasis that perspective is everything, A Song of Ice and Fire sounds its warcry loud and clear:

‘The Tourney At Harrenhal Is My Ultimate Challenge. Test Your Knowledge Of Me Here, If You Dare!’

The Tourney at Harrenhal has always seemed to me to be the soulful centerpiece of A Song of Ice and Fire’s deepest secrets, and it’s where I begin our dig into the fine (and familiar) details of the story. As it happens, the translation of events to mythology both obscures and reveals the truth of them.

Next: Chapter 3 – The Knight of the Laughing Tree, a Rose in a Wasteland

Forest Love and Forest Lass – Chapter 1

Previous: Chapter 0 – Introduction

The Maiden of the Tree

forest lass crop

At a small castle in the Riverlands called Acorn Hall, Arya Stark and Gendry have just returned to the main hall after a bit of playful rough-housing in the smithy. As they enter the hall together looking disheveled, a man named Tom of Sevenstreams sings this song.

My featherbed is deep and soft,
and there I’ll lay you down,
I’ll dress you all in yellow silk,
and on your head a crown.

For you shall be my lady love,
and I shall be your lord.
I’ll always keep you warm and safe,
and guard you with my sword.

And how she smiled and how she laughed,
the maiden of the tree.
She spun away and said to him,
no featherbed for me.

I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves,
and bind my hair with grass,
But you can be my forest love,
and me your forest lass.
(ASOS Arya IV)

Tom of Sevenstreams no doubt can see as clearly as the readers can that the narrative seeds of a young-love romance between Arya and Gendry are planted in these scenes. In the context of Arya and Gendry reappearing together, the song is meant to relate to them — certainly through the eyes of Tom, but perhaps also through the thematic lens of the story itself. It is this lens that I focus my attention upon.

First I asked myself, what is the song itself about? What does it seem to mean when I remove the context of Arya, Gendry and Tom, and view it in isolation, as a work of art that has its own inherent characteristics and internal logic separate from these specific people, this specific place and time?

The song begins with the voice of a man. The man is offering a woman some things such as a featherbed, a crown, a romance and safety. All of these things together constitute a marriage, and so the offers constitute a marriage proposal. And I think he’s trying to be persuasive about it.

The second half of the song is the woman responding to the man. She’s being lighthearted about his offerings, but ultimately she’s rejecting them. She proposes all of the same sort of things in response, except in the more casual, affordable and temporary forms of forest debris. The woman’s suggestions contrast the man’s suggestions in a way that suggests that she does want the romance he offers, and perhaps sex, too, but she wants them informally and outside of the cultural norms of society.

A possible implication in the song is that the man believes his offerings somehow entitle him to the woman’s affection, as if material things, status and protection are what the woman necessarily needs or wants in a romance, and as if her personal preferences do not weigh or weigh much in the matter. But maybe the man didn’t mean it that way.

The man offers the titles “lady love” and “lord.” The woman changes them to “forest love” and “forest lass.” Notice that now the man is the “love” rather than the woman.

The word “love” can mean affection, or it can mean sex, as in “lover” and “lovemaking.” So by moving the “love” title to the man, another possible implication in the song is that the woman received “lady love” to mean something offensive to her, perhaps approximating “lady for sex” or “sexual plaything.” In her new framing, she may be casting the man as her sexual plaything instead. Turning the tables, so to speak. But maybe the woman was not offended and is not returning insult in this way.

The titles of “lord” and “lady” are part of Westerosi culture, so they represent Westerosi culture. The title of “forest” depicts a physical change of venue from civilization to the wilderness. In this song, the forest and forestry are symbolic of a rejection of and removal from civilization, tradition and culture, as well as an embracement of nature — both the nature of the earth and the nature within themselves that compels them to have sex regardless of the cultural norms and expectations that might prevent them from doing it.

So I think all of that is what the song itself is about. Simply put, a man offers a woman a traditional pairing and the woman counter-offers by accepting the pairing but rejecting the traditions.

Characters who buck tradition are featured prominently in A Song of Ice and Fire, and little Arya Stark is one of them. So it’s no wonder how the song relates to Arya and why it features in her chapter, even if marriage, romance and sex are still years to come for Arya, or never to come at all. Her incompatibility with the traditional womanly roles of Westeros is portrayed from the very beginning of the story when she flees from her sewing class and watches her brothers train at swords in the yard. The name that Arya chooses for her sword Needle is symbolic of this incompatibility. Plainly, Arya does not want the marriage-and-motherhood lifestyle that her father presents to her.

Arya cocked her head to one side. “Can I be a king’s councillor and build castles and become the High Septon?”

“You,” Ned said, kissing her lightly on the brow, “will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon.”

Arya screwed up her face. “No,” she said, “that’s Sansa.” She folded up her right leg and resumed her balancing. Ned sighed and left her there. (AGOT Eddard V)

The Maiden of the Tree song’s placement in Arya’s scene highlights that Arya and the Maiden of the Tree are somehow similar, if only according to Tom.

While I won’t go into great depth about the character Arya in Forest Love and Forest Lass, (though she is my favorite character!) she and the Maiden of the Tree seem to be echoes of one another through the ages, and that makes the song a cool foresty symbol for an essay about a story in which so much of its mystery resides in its history. Thankfully, however, I’ll need to revisit Arya later. Arya plays an important role as our present-day set of eyes upon some important places in Westeros.

Next: Chapter 2 – The Tourney at Harrenhal

Chapter Titles in AFFC & ADWD P2

(work in progress. I may fill out more chapters a little bit over time. I probably won’t get back to this any time soon but here it is FWIW and if you like it feel welcome to pick up where I left off. I’m still excited to write it but I have more important ASOIAF things to write that take priority for now.)

Chapter Titles in AFFC & ADWD P1

In part one, I came to the conclusion that the unconventional chapter titles in AFFC and ADWD are written from the point-of-view of the smallfolk, commoners, and othered categories of people in the story. The poor, usually.

Now I want to put that idea to the test, and try to make that category of people more specific.

At a glance, it seems to me that the defining characteristic that unites the category of characters whose voices are in the chapter titles is that the characters are non-POV characters whose perspectives the reader has overlooked, disregarded or discredited in one way or another.

Granted, each individual reader’s list of overlooked non-POV characters will be unique, because the story is big and people are different. So one part of my hypothesis is that, despite those things, the lists of overlooked non-POV characters will be mostly the same for most readers. We all probably ignored the old woman servant in Illyrio’s manse to approximately the same extent, for example. She’s barely mentioned.

The main part of my hypothesis is that the bolded description above will work as the defining characteristic that conceptually unifies the category of people whose voices are in the chapter titles. In precise terms, my hypotheiss is that the voices of the non-conventional chapter titles will always be those of non-POV characters whose perspectives the reader has overlooked, disregarded or discredited, and that those perspectives contain insights into the POV characters’ dilemmas that were missing from our interpretations of the POV characters and their dilemmas.

The following interrogation of the story requires the reader to be honest with himself about how much attention he has given to the non-POV characters in question before having become aware of the story’s indictment of the reader’s neglect of non-POV characters. In my personal experience with the story, I’ve watched my own opinions of many characters and events change dramatically in the few years since I became aware that the story is thematically displeased with my inattention to non-POV characters, so I will have to do some work to stay honest with myself in that regard too.

Now I’ll go through each unconventional chapter title individually to see if the idea holds up, and, if so, how. I’m hoping this process will help me further specify the core unifying characteristic across all the voices in the chapter titles.

There are 12 out of 46 (26%) unconventional chapter titles in AFFC, and there are 23 out of 73 (31.5%) unconventional chapter titles in ADWD. So in total, I’ll examine all 35 unconventional chapter titles. Oh boy. I better get started. In the words of Hot Pie, “Hot Pie!

AFFC 1 The Prophet (Aeron I)

This one’s easy. The commoners of the Iron Islands believe in the Drowned God. Aeron is a priest of the Drowned God, so they venerate him for his wisdom, they rely on him to perform Drowned God rituals and rites, and they consider him a prophet. So if this chapter title is in the minds of the commoners, it’s no wonder why the commoners think of Aeron as The Prophet rather than Aeron. They think of him as The Prophet in the same way we might think of a religious leader as Pastor, Reverend or Preacher rather than his first name.

If this chapter title is standing in criticism of my tendency to overlook or underestimate the points-of-view of the commoners of the Iron Islands, then the implication seems to be that my interpretations of characters or events related to the commoners on the Iron Islands probably haven’t lent enough seriousness and weight to the reality that the commoners hold Aeron in high regard, that they’re serious about their Drowned God beliefs, or things of a similar sort.

It occurs to me that Theon experienced the same sort of reality check the first time he met Aeron. Theon felt that Aeron was insolent and lacking a certain amount of respect and fear for him, Theon being the son and heir of Lord Balon.

AFFC 2 The Captain of Guards (Areo I)

AFFC 11 The Kraken’s Daughter (Asha I)

AFFC 13 The Soiled Knight (Arys I)

AFFC 18 The Iron Captain (Victarion I)

AFFC 19 The Drowned Man (Aeron II)

AFFC 21 The Queenmaker (Arianne I)

AFFC 23 Alayne I (Sansa I)

AFFC 29 The Reaver (Victarion II)

AFFC 34 Cat Of The Canals (Arya III)

AFFC 40 The Princess In The Tower (Arianne II)

Arianne is “The Princess In The Tower” because, in the minds of the smallfolk, Arianne is relevant in their lives as a figure of House Martell, rather than as a person with whom they might interact on a first-name basis. She’s a daughter of the ruling family who lives a life of luxury so unattainable to them that any three of the books in her tower prison are probably worth more coin than everything a typical smallfolk family owns combined. ‘Psst, you should probably read some of those books, Princess.’

AFFC 41 Alayne II (Sansa II)

ADWD 6 The Merchant’s Man (Quentyn I)

ADWD 12 Reek I (Theon I)

ADWD 20 Reek II (Theon II)

ADWD 24 The Lost Lord (Jon Connington I)

The men of the Golden Company were outside their tents, dicing, drinking, and swatting away flies. Griff wondered how many of them knew who he was. Few enough. Twelve years is a long time. Even the men who’d ridden with him might not recognize the exile lord Jon Connington of the fiery red beard in the lined, clean-shaved face and dyed blue hair of the sellsword Griff. So far as most of them were concerned, Connington had drunk himself to death in Lys after being driven from the company in disgrace for stealing from the war chest. The shame of the lie still stuck in his craw, but Varys had insisted it was necessary. “We want no songs about the gallant exile,” the eunuch had tittered, in that mincing voice of his. “Those who die heroic deaths are  long remembered, thieves and drunks and cravens soon forgotten.”

ADWD 25 The Windblown (Quentyn II)

ADWD 26 The Wayward Bride (Asha I)

ADWD 32 Reek III (Theon III)

ADWD 37 The Prince of Winterfell (Theon IV)

ADWD 38 The Watcher (Areo I)

I began re-reading The Watcher chapter, keeping an eye out for commoner type of characters and their opportunity or lackthereof to witness Areo “watching”, as the chapter title would suggest. Here are the first two paragraphs of The Watcher.

Let us look upon this head,” his prince commanded.

Areo Hotah ran his hand along the smooth shaft of his longaxe, his ash-and-iron wife, all the while watching. He watched the white knight, Ser Balon Swann, and the others who had come with him. He watched the Sand Snakes, each at a different table. He watched the lords and ladies, the serving men, the old blind seneschal, and the young maester Myles, with his silky beard and servile smile. Standing half in light and half in shadow, he saw all of them. Serve. Protect. Obey. That was his task. (ADWD The Watcher)

Did a character in the scene, or category of characters, come to the foreground?

ADWD 41 The Turncloak (Theon V)

ADWD 42 The King’s Prize (Asha II)

ADWD 45 The Blind Girl (Arya I)

ADWD 46 A Ghost In Winterfell (Theon VI)

ADWD 55 The Queensguard (Barristan I)

ADWD 56 The Iron Suitor (Victarion I)

ADWD 59 The Discarded Knight (Barristan II)

ADWD 60 The Spurned Suitor (Quentyn III)

ADWD 61 The Griffon Reborn (Jon Connington II)

The last that the common people of Westeros (and probably most of the noble people too for that matter) have heard of Jon Connington, he lost the Battle of the Bells about two decades ago and disappeared across the Narrow Sea into exile. In ADWD when Jon lands on the shores of Westeros and the word begins to spread, how are the commoners of Westeros going to think about it?

As I saw in the chapter ADWD 24 The Lost Lord, Jon thinks most of the people who knew him in the Golden Company will have presumed him dead after twelve years gone. Surely the commoners of Westeros will have presumed Jon dead, too, after seventeen or more years gone. It’s no wonder, then, that Jon’s return is perceived by Westerosi commoners as a rebirth. They thought he was dead, but now he’s alive.

And they think of him as The Griffin because, in the minds of the commoners, the noble people belong to a category comparable to that occupied in our own minds by the rich and powerful leaders in our own world. If I meet a celebrity like George R.R. Martin or a political leader, I’m liable to ask for an autograph, a picture and to tell the story of the meeting to my friends for days or years to come. I can imagine that a member of House Connington is looked upon in a similarly mythologized way by the commoners of Westeros, particularly in the stormlands where House Connington’s castle Griffin’s Roost is seated.

ADWD 62 The Sacrifice (Asha III)

ADWD 64 The Ugly Little Girl (Arya II)

ADWD 67 The Kingbreaker (Barristan III)

The Kingbreaker is the chapter that I think most strongly gives away the identity of the voice of the chapter titles. Because the first thing I think when I read this chapter title is:

‘Who the hell could this be? Maybe it’s Jaime Lannister.’

It’s a reasonable thing to think, considering that Jaime Lannister is known as The Kingslayer, and Kingslayer is the closest thing to Kingbreaker that I’ve seen in the story. After I realize the POV character is Barristan, the next thing I think is:

‘How the heck is Barristan a Kingbreaker? Who is the king? Did Barristan kill Tommen?’

After I read the chapter, I’m able to see that the titular king is Hizdhar. But up until now, I haven’t thought of Hizdhar as a king at all. I’ve thought of him as the pampered Meereen noble who Dany unfortunately had to marry. So the title forces me to recognize that, yes, as a matter of fact, Hizdhar is a King. Since Dany is the Queen, and Dany married Hizdhar, then Hizdhar must be the King.

Although “King” is far from the role Hizdhar has occupied in my mind so far, this chapter title forces upon me a recognition that King is precisely the role that Hizdhar occupies in the minds of most of the Meereenese people.

Characters such as Reznak mo Reznak, the Green Grace and Hizdahr himself petitioned for a long time that Daenerys should marry a Meereenese noble.

A very limber man was Hizdahr zo Loraq.

He might be handsome, but for that silly hair. Reznak and the Green Grace had been urging Dany to take a Meereenese noble for her husband, to reconcile the city to her rule. Hizdahr zo Loraq might be worth a careful look. (ADWD Daenerys )

The Meereenese people, former slaves and masters alike all want a leader who shares a heritage and culture with them, so that Meereenese perspectives, attitudes, customs and culture won’t be so harshly ignored in the new system of values and governance that Dany is forcing upon them. For example, the fighting pits are one part of Meereenese culture that Dany wants to abolish.

“Old arguments,” Hizdahr admitted, “new words. Lovely words, and courteous, more apt to move a queen.”

“It is your cause I find wanting, not your courtesies. I have heard your arguments so often I could plead your case myself. Shall I?” Dany leaned forward. “The fighting pits have been a part of Meereen since the city was founded. The combats are profoundly religious in nature, a blood sacrifice to the gods of Ghis. The mortal art of Ghis is not mere butchery but a display of courage, skill, and strength most pleasing to your gods.

“Victorious fighters are pampered and acclaimed, and the slain are honored and remembered. By reopening the pits I would show the people of Meereen that I respect their ways and customs.” (ADWD Daenerys I)

Dany sardonically recites Hizdhar’s own arguments at him, demonstrating the very disrespect and disregard for Meereen’s culture that its people fear.

Though he dealt harshly with rebels and traitors, he was open-handed with former foes who bent the knee. (TWOIAF)

“Yield now,” Aegon began, “and you may remain as Lord of the Iron Islands. Yield now, and your sons will live to rule after you. I have eight thousand men outside your walls.” (TWOIAF)

Having taken a dozen castles and secured the mouth of the Blackwater Rush on both sides of the river, he commanded the lords he had defeated to attend him. There they laid their swords at his feet, and Aegon raised them up and confirmed them in their lands and titles. (TWOIAF)

ADWD 68 The Dragontamer (Quentyn IV)

ADWD 70 The Queen’s Hand (Barristan IV)


Created Aug 9, 2022 – WIP, AFFC 1 40 ADWD 24 38 61 67