ASOIAF Central Mystery Roundup

My ASOIAF studies have outpaced my ASOIAF writings so severely that the only way I can make time to get my ideas and the results of my research out into the world is to sit down in front of the microphone and just start talking. If you want a no-frills, straight to the point crash course on how ASOIAF’s central mysteries resolve, these videos are the only places I’ve shared those ideas. There are more episodes to come, but the first two or three contain the core of ASOIAF’s surprise endings.

Part 1

https://youtu.be/DWnWS3Q967I

Part 2

https://youtu.be/5PyjKyBuA00

Part 3

https://youtu.be/WlIuPobxn7M

Part 4

Will probably be about Elia Martell and/or Rhaella Targaryen.

Part 5

I will show where and how the R+L situation is symbolized throughout the story.

Somewhere along the way I will cover the Trident more thoroughly.

Somewhere along the way I will show where and how the Tower of Joy situation is symbolized throughout the story.

I will update this page with video links when I make new videos in the Central Mysteries series.


Created Sep 20, 2025

Preview of Robert’s Rebellion Symbols

I’m finally on A Storm of Swords in my second read-through of A Song of Ice and Fire. Now that I know the answers to most of the central mysteries, one of the things I’m doing during this reread is I’m finding many places where those answers have been symbolized all along. I’m far from finished, but I thought I would share some of what I have found so far because it’s exciting. Seeing how the secrets of all these mysteries were secretly being shown to us every step of the way is really awe inspiring. It is increasing my awareness of the massive scope and beauty of ASOIAF as a work of symbolism. Anyway without further ado let me give you a glimpse of what I mean.

To understand my notes, you’re going to have to know what some of those secrets are, so I will tell you explicitly now. I used to guard these secrets closely but I don’t have the time to do them the justice I wanted to and nobody believes me anyway so it’s time to set them free.I know much more than this anyway. If you don’t want to be spoiled close out of this page now.

Here are a few of ASOIAF’s most closely guarded secrets about its central mysteries, meaning the mysteries about the various things that happened during Robert’s Rebellion.

1. At the Battle of the Trident, Rhaegar drowned to death because his feet were caught in his stirrups and his horse couldn’t stand up after it took a stray hit and fell over in the water.

2. Lyanna Stark was a skinchanger who skinchanged Rhaegar at the Tourney of Harrenhal, fought in the tournament and won, and placed the crown of blue roses in her own lap.

3. Rhaegar was homosexual.

4. In the riverlands, when Rhaegar and company came to arrest Lyanna for skinchanging him, Lyanna skinchanged Rhaegar again and raped herself with his body, making herself pregnant with his baby.

Mirrors That Rhaegar is Gay

Vaegon Targaryen
Signals a bunch of Rhaegar similarities (targ prince, wine pour, surprise combat training, loves books) to show you that Rhaegar, like Vaegon, was uninterested in women (vaegon = asexual, rhaegar = gay) As with Rhaegar, the audience will say Vaegon was a pervert (used porn scrolls), mirroring when they said Rhaegar was a pervert / pedo who statuatory raped Lyanna.

Gaemon Palehair
Gay man pale hair. enough said. clue that rhaegar like gaemon was being manipulated by a group of whorish power hungry women who were trying to advance feminism (make rhaenys king).

Daemon “The Fiddler” Blackfyre
is gay, mirroring that Rhaegar was gay. See: Mirrors of the Trident Battle: Daemon The Fiddler.

Loras Tyrell
gives a red flower to Sansa Stark at the Hand’s Tourney in King’s Landing. Loras is Rhaegar, Sansa is Lyanna, the red rose is the blue rose crown. Loras being gay is a clue that Rhaegar was gay, and that therefore, in both situations, the giving of the flower/s did not indicate his romantic interest in her. Sansa realizes this later when Loras comes to get her from her room and escort her to meet Olenna.

Mirrors That Lyanna Skinchanged Rhaegar

ACOK Bran I
Bran warged into Summer fighting the old wolf and winning = Lyanna warged into Rhaegar fighting Barristan and winning in the Harrenhal final tilt. Summer being “prince of the green” matches Rhaegar being prince of the kingdom. Tyrion = Lewyn because in both cases that prince is his nephew. Rhaegar is Lewyn’s goodnephew, it matches with Joffrey being Tyrion’s nephew. Bran being in an isolated tower makes this partly a TOJ parallel, because Lyanna was the skinchanger in the Tower of Joy.

Rhaenyra Targaryen and Criston Cole
At the start of the Dance of the Dragons. Rhaenyra paralyzes Criston and rapes him. I think she used the same poison that was used to castrate Varys. Varys says it paralyzes you but you can feel everything. It was probably popular in the sex circles Rhaenyra was running in during her brothel tour with her uncle Daemon.

Joffrey Velaryon
Steals his mom Rhaenyra’s dragon Syrax. Joffrey is Lyanna, she “stole a dragon” when she skinchanged Rhaegar. In FAB. Joffrey is impaled by his own sword, symbolizing when Lyanna impaled herself with her own sword, Rhaegar’s dick. There is a Tower of Joy parallel here too with the 7 queensguard and 3 of them died. 7 and 3 invokes TOJ.

Mirrors of the Trident Battle

Davos
Drowning at the Battle of the Blackwater mirrors Rhaegar drowning at the Trident. Blackwater river = Trident river. Wildfire trap and feet tying trap have trap in common. Tyrion’s chain = Rhaegar’s shoelaces practically LOL!

Dunk vs Lucas “Longinch” Inchfield in The Sworn Sword.
Two men fighting on horseback in a river. Lucas is Robert because he has a two-handed weapon. Dunk is Rhaegar because his horse takes a stray hit from the enemy’s weapon, his horse falls over in the water, Dunk’s foot is stuck in the stirrup, and he almost drowns to death.

Daemon “The Fiddler” Blackfyre
gets defeated in a joust in the rain. They call him “The Brown Dragon” because he’s covered in mud, like the mud that the horses kick up in the Dunk v Lucas scene and the Davos Blackwater scene. Daemon is the symbolic Rhaegar because he’s a Targ prince, like Rhaegar he’s trying to be king, like Rhaegar he’s trying to usurp the current king, like Rhaegar he loses the fight and gets wet and muddy, and like Rhaegar he’s gay.

Mance Rayder
when Stannis attacks the wildlings. Mance is Rhaegar, he goes into battle on a horse and his horse gets hit and goes down and then there’s watery language (steel tide washed over him). It mirrors that Rhaegar’s horse took a hit, went down, and Rhaegar drowned to death. Mance’s tent is a mirror of the TOJ, it’s a shelter that the Rhaegar symbol left to go fight a battle, and where he left a pregnant woman who’s pregnant with his baby (Dalla / Lyanna).

ASOS Samwell I
After escaping the battle at the Fist, Sam is crossing a frozen stream when a Night’s Watch man runs up and pulls him off his horse and steals his horse and rides away. Then Sam’s foot gets stuck in a root and he falls down. It mirrors Rhaegar in the Trident having his foot stuck in his stirrups, falling in the river (Trident) and drowning to death.


Created Jul 4, 2025

Tower of Joy, A Study in Symbolic Interpretation – Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – Nimble Dick Crabb

Previous: Chapter 7 – He Would Have Killed Me But For Howland Reed

Beginning: Chapter 0-4 – Introduction

For this essay chapter, I recommend re-reading the ASOIAF chapter that we’re looking at, AFFC 20 Brienne IV (p280), in order to reacquaint yourself with it so you can get the most out of the essay. AFFC 20 Brienne IV is very enjoyable as a standalone story.

At the end of chapter 5 we learned that Brienne’s engagement with the Ser Galladon story is symbolizing our engagement with the Brienne story. Brienne improved her situation in the Whispers fight by noticing the commonalities between herself and a character in a story (Galladon), by taking feedback from Nimble Dick about what that story means (there’s something wrong with honor and don’t hold back your power when it counts), and changing her mind about not using her own magic sword before entering a dangerous situation at the Whispers. If Brienne is symbolizing us and Brienne had to change her mind to stop being wrong, it bears asking, how do we have to change our minds to stop being wrong? That’s the question we’re going to answer in this essay chapter.

Brienne’s last minute choice to use Oathkeeper was a moment of great character progression for her. For the duration of the whole chapter, Brienne was very mistrustful of Nimble Dick, and then at the end she finally trusted him in a big way by letting him use her steel sword. Brienne was taking a big risk by arming Nimble Dick, because he could have used the sword to backstab her at a moment when she’s vulnerable, such as during the fight. Brienne’s mistrust is understandable when you consider her life experiences of being tormented and looked down upon by men. Because of Brienne’s past, her character progression here is all the more impressive and meaningful. Due to Brienne’s trust in Nimble Dick, Nimble Dick had the means to protect himself in what Brienne correctly thought could be a dangerous situation. So, contrary to Nimble Dick’s criticisms that Brienne is too mistrustful, Brienne proved him wrong by trusting him when it really counts. In the end, it was the “mistrustful maid’s” trust that saved Nimble Dick’s life.

. . . It makes for a heartwarming interpretation. Perhaps in a more conventional series, that would be the deeper meaning behind this sequence of events. But in our story, Nimble Dick’s life was not saved. Conventional storytelling wisdom suggests that GRRM should have written the story so that Nimble Dick was saved. Conventional storytelling wisdom says that GRRM should have written the story so that Nimble Dick uses the sword Brienne lent him to help Brienne win the fight. Better yet, Nimble Dick rather than Podrick Payne should have been the one to save Brienne, with the sword instead of a stone. That way, Brienne’s survival would have been a direct consequence of her moment of character progression. But in our story, Nimble Dick died horribly before he even got to use the sword.

‘So what does that mean about the other stuff?’ I hear you wondering. ‘Are you suggesting all that was wrong?’ No, every sentence was true except the last one or two.

But, there are two basic categories of possibilities for why the story is written this way. The first is that Nimble Dick’s death is meant to convey a theme or lesson about the harshness of life. Though the thematic progress before Nimble Dick’s death was building up to a wholesome message, Nimble Dick’s death afterwards seems to sabotage that message in a strong way that’s hard to ignore. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe the point is that bad things happen and we shouldn’t let that ruin the good things. In this category, readers are likely to remind us that GRRM is notorious for killing off his characters in order to depict the harshness of life alongside the beauty of life. In this category, we’ll hear readers say things that sound much too glad about meaninglessness. ‘Humans are crazy apes on a swirling ball of mud in a void of empty space, so you better wise up to the meaninglessness of life and learn to like it, because that’s the hard truth.’ If that is not a part of ASOIAF’s philosophy, GRRM sure does a good job of making it seem like it is sometimes.

The second category of possibilities is that Nimble Dick’s death, or more specifically the shock of it for the reader, indicates that the wholesome message contained in the build-up was not as wholesome as it seemed, and that we’re profoundly wrong about something in our interpretation of the build-up. Readers who agree with this category of possibilities are likely to draw attention to the tragedy of Nimble Dick’s death, as though a side character should be treated with that much importance. They may seem confused, as though they don’t really know what their main point is. They’re easy to push from one weakly argued point to another, and they can’t really say what it is that we’re all supposedly so wrong about. After listening to these readers long enough, they may seem driven by a shallow desire to be different for the sake of being different.

Which category of possibilities do you find yourself agreeing with more? Is Nimble Dick’s shocking death conveying a lesson about the harshness of life? Or is Nimble Dick’s shocking death showing us that there’s something in our interpretation of the story that we’re getting wrong?

It’s possible to agree with both, because the first one could fairly be a subcategory of the second one. After all, not already knowing that life is harsh could be the thing in our interpretation that we were getting wrong. But, when you try to keep the two possibilities separate, it’s worth noticing which one resonates with you more than the other.

For me, the second one resonates more. One reason is that one of the most thoroughly established ideas in ASOIAF is that perspective is everything. The chapters that make up the entire series are all written from the characters’ perspectives, after all. Learning and remembering that everything written is subject to the narrator’s unreliability is an omnipresent challenge in ASOIAF. When I hear the “harsh reality” possibility and its supporters treating Nimble Dick’s perspective dismissively because he’s not important enough, it’s as if red lights and sirens begin flashing and blaring in my mind, saying ‘Look over here!’

Granted, Nimble Dick Crabb is not a POV character, but at minimum he is a perspective. He has a particular personality, past, and motivational frame that cause him to see situations differently from the way, say, Brienne is seeing them. And since Brienne is the POV character of this chapter, we probably saw situations the same way Brienne did the first time around. ASOIAF has taught me that almost every perspective matters, no matter how unimportant the character seems. With great frequency, the key insights that the reader needs in order to make progress on whatever mystery is at hand are found by looking closely at a perspective that the readers dismissed as unimportant.

So, the more the readers treat Nimble Dick Crabb’s perspective as unimportant, the more I suspect that Nimble Dick Crabb’s perspective is important. This essay chapter is about putting ourselves in Nimble Dick Crabb’s shoes to see what the story looks like to him, and comparing that to what the story looked like to Brienne and ourselves the first time we read it.

This Brienne chapter’s dramatic through-line is the tense relationship between Brienne and Nimble Dick Crabb. Though their relationship is relatively straightforward, it’s crucial to the Whispers≈TOJ parallel because it provides the biggest cues as to what the ever-so-elusive “moral of the story” is, and how we should try approaching the symbols. In the recipe of symbolic interpretation, if the symbols that we’ve been establishing thus far are the ingredients, then the moral of the story is the oven. So let’s take some time to build our oven so we can put our ingredients inside and let them cook.

As Brienne and the gang travel to the Whispers, the reader comes to trust Nimble Dick less and less. Before we meet him, we already know that he tricked somebody (“fooled a fool”). We also know his name, and his name sounds unsavory enough to inspire mistrust, too — Nimble Dick Crabb. When we meet him, his personality inspires mistrust, too. He avoids answering questions, he speaks crudely, he’s proud of swindling the fool by selling him an unhelpful map, and he withholds the information Brienne wants so he can get some money out of her. We mistrust Dick because he apparently tries to steal money from Brienne’s bag while she’s away. We mistrust him because he tries to scare Podrick with a horror story. We mistrust him because the journey is taking too long. We mistrust him because Brienne thinks the reason there’s a badge torn off his clothes is because he’s probably a deserter. We mistrust him because he wants to sleep in the same places where Brienne and Podrick sleep. We mistrust him because he’s the only person in the group who knows the way in and out of this forest. We mistrust him because Brienne mistrusts him.

Maybe you didn’t mistrust Dick for all of these reasons, but Brienne did. Since we received this chapter through the POV of Brienne, we tend to feel the same way about things that she does.

The scene where Brienne and the reader are introduced to Nimble Dick for the first time immediately depicts Nimble Dick as an unseemly man.

Someone was coming down the cellar steps. Brienne pushed her wine aside as a ragged, scrawny, sharp-faced man with dirty brown hair stepped into the Goose. He gave the Tyroshi sailors a quick look and Brienne a longer one, then went up to the plank. “Wine,” he said, “and none o’ your horse piss in it, thank’e.” (AFFC 14 Brienne III)

Nimble Dick is a ragged man with dirty hair who enters the tavern demanding wine and insulting the innkeeper. Right away, we’re given only reasons to dislike him. Brienne feels the same way.

Brienne did not like the way his fingers played with that gold coin. Still … “Six dragons if we find my sister. Two if we only find the fool. Nothing if nothing is what we find.”

Crabb shrugged. “Six is good. Six will serve.”

Too quick. She caught his wrist before he could tuck the gold away. “Do not play me false. You’ll not find me easy meat.”

When she let go, Crabb rubbed his wrist. “Bloody piss,” he muttered. “You hurt my hand.”

“I am sorry for that. My sister is a girl of three-and-ten. I need to find her before—”

“—before some knight gets in her slit. Aye, I hear you. She’s good as saved. Nimble Dick is with you now. Meet me by east gate at first light. I need t’ see this man about a horse.” (AFFC 14 Brienne III)

Nimble Dick’s introduction in AFFC 14 Brienne III ends with Nimble Dick crassly evoking the image of Sansa being raped by a knight. With these words, Nimble Dick burns the image of sexual violence into our minds, establishing him as a man of questionable character (at best). If that wasn’t enough, in the same breath Nimble Dick offends the ideal of knighthood by suggesting that a knight would commit rape. This is the Brienne chapter just before the one with the Whispers fight, so this is what sets the tone about who Nimble Dick is. He’s an uncouth, opportunistic scoundrel. Even before he stepped onto the stage, one of the few things we knew about him was his name, and his name is Nimble Dick Crabb, for crying out loud. It sounds like the name of a C-list male porn star who has a reputation for pinching girls.

Bear in mind that we hardly know anything for certain about Nimble Dick’s character yet. Most of what we know about him is superficial in nature — concerned only with appearances. In our logical minds, we will know that a person having dirty hair doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a bad person. We will know that a person having a sketchy name and nickname doesn’t necessarily mean he has to be sketchy. Dick is short for Richard, which is a perfectly ordinary name. We will know that his regular patronage at a tavern that serves wine doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a drunkard. Having a drink or two every day doesn’t cause drunkenness. We will know that jibes like the one Nimble Dick made to the barkeeper about her wine tasting like horse piss can be part of a friendly rapport rather than an insult, and that bartenders and their regular patrons often develop such a rapport. And we will probably be familiar with the old adage that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, at least not too strongly. People deserve a fair chance. But of course, our logical minds were not in charge the first time we read this chapter, because neither is Brienne’s. First impressions last. Thus, in Nimble Dick Crabb, GRRM has created the perfect disguise for a hustler with a heart of gold.

Brienne spends almost the entirety of this long chapter trusting Nimble Dick as little as possible. To be fair to Brienne, Nimble Dick is rough around the edges. But if you reread the chapter with a critical eye and a mind to defend Nimble Dick, what you may see is that Nimble Dick had more cause to mistrust Brienne than Brienne had to mistrust Nimble Dick.

From the first moment Nimble Dick agreed to be Brienne’s guide, she grabbed his hand threateningly and hurt him.

Crabb shrugged. “Six is good. Six will serve.”

Too quick. She caught his wrist before he could tuck the gold away. “Do not play me false. You’ll not find me easy meat.”

When she let go, Crabb rubbed his wrist. “Bloody piss,” he muttered. “You hurt my hand.” (AFFC 14 Brienne III)

Keep in mind that this is an old man who Brienne described in her thoughts as “scrawny.” Though old age and small size don’t necessarily mean he’s harmless, rereading this chapter leaves me thinking ‘Come on, Brienne. Get real.’ The extent of her mistrust of Nimble Dick is absurd, and it’s inappropriate from a warrior of her size and ability.

At first, Brienne told Nimble Dick that she was looking for her sister. After Nimble Dick said the fool had two girls with him instead of one, Brienne changed her story and said the other girl is her sister, too.

“Those two girls are my sisters.”

“Are they, now? Poor little things. Had a sister once meself.” (AFFC 14 Brienne III)

From Nimble Dick’s point of view, Brienne’s sisters apparently changed from a singularity to a plurality in the space of a minute. Based on this, Nimble Dick could probably tell that Brienne was lying to him about something regarding her relationship to the girls. In contrast, Nimble Dick was upfront about the fact that he never saw the girls himself.

Two girls?” Could the other one be Arya?

“Well,” the man said, “I never seen the little sweets, mind you, but he was wanting passage for three.” (AFFC 14 Brienne III)

At every turn of this journey, Nimble Dick told stories and sang songs. When the eeriness of the forest became overwhelming and nobody felt like singing, Nimble Dick sang anyway, apparently in an attempt to raise the group’s spirits. It didn’t work, but he tried.

Nimble Dick told about the histories of every rock and hill, and he shared the stories of them because this is his homeland. A person could hardly ask for a better guide than this.

Nimble Dick made every effort to be friendly with Brienne, but nothing could soften her heart. He cooperated with her demands even when he disagreed, he suffered the greatest discomforts, risks and privations out of anybody in the group, and he may very well have been telling the truth in the moments when Brienne was certain that he was lying. For instance…

Thiefy McFlour Hands

Crabb showed his true colors the next day, when they stopped to water the horses. Brienne had to step behind some bushes to empty her bladder. As she was squatting, she heard Podrick say, “What are you doing? You get away from there.” She finished her business, hiked up her breeches, and returned to the road to find Nimble Dick wiping flour off his fingers. “You won’t find any dragons in my saddlebags,” she told him. “I keep my gold upon my person.” Some of it was in the pouch at her belt, the rest hidden in a pair of pockets sewn inside her clothing. The fat purse inside her saddlebag was filled with coppers large and small, pennies and halfpennies, groats and stars … and fine white flour, to make it fatter still. She had bought the flour from the cook at the Seven Swords the morning she rode out from Duskendale.

“Dick meant no harm, m’lady.” He wriggled his flour-spotted fingers to show he held no weapon. “I was only looking to see if you had these dragons what you promised me. The world’s full o’ liars, ready to cheat an honest man. Not that you’re one.”

Brienne hoped he was a better guide than he was a thief. “We had best be going.” She mounted up again. (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

While Brienne was away from her horse, Nimble Dick took the opportunity to reach a hand into a coin bag in her saddlebag. Podrick saw him and called out. When Brienne returned, she found Nimble Dick with his hand covered in flour, marking him for a thief. Nimble Dick explained that he was only checking to make sure Brienne had the gold she promised.

I can see that Brienne doesn’t believe him, because in her thoughts she calls him a thief.

Brienne hoped he was a better guide than he was a thief. (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

Brienne’s thoughts explain the flour like this:

“I keep my gold upon my person.” Some of it was in the pouch at her belt, the rest hidden in a pair of pockets sewn inside her clothing. The fat purse inside her saddlebag was filled with coppers large and small, pennies and halfpennies, groats and stars … and fine white flour, to make it fatter still. She had bought the flour from the cook at the Seven Swords the morning she rode out from Duskendale. (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

Based on Brienne’s thoughts here, we can see that Brienne foresaw the possibility that her guide might try to steal from her, even before she met him. She bought the flour the morning when she rode out from Duskendale, but at that point she hadn’t met Nimble Dick yet. Still, she bought the flour as a protective measure against her guide’s thievery. After she met Nimble Dick and bought his guidance to the Whispers, she poured the flour into the coin bag. She kept her least valuable coins in the bag and her most valuable coins on her person.

Because of Brienne’s foresight and preparation, the reader comes away with the impression that Brienne has good judgement about Nimble Dick — he’s an untrustworthy, selfish, sneaky, perverted creep who’s willing to lie, cheat, and steal when he thinks he can get away with it and when there’s something for him to gain. But when you look at the situation from the standpoint of Nimble Dick, his explanation may have actually been the truth. After all, Nimble Dick doesn’t know if Brienne is good for the gold she promised him, because she never showed it to him. It’s a lot of gold to him, and this is a long and uncomfortable journey, so his concern about payment is totally reasonable. Brienne has already paid him two silver and one gold coin for information, but one gold coin is a far cry from six.

Granted, reaching into her coin bag was the wrong way for Nimble Dick to go about learning if Brienne has the gold. He probably should have asked her politely to show him the gold she promised him.

But, imagine that he did. Imagine that Nimble Dick had approached Brienne respectfully and directly asked her to show him the gold to prove her ability to pay him. How do you think Brienne would have responded? Well, probably in the same ways that she responded to everything else Nimble Dick asked of her: By being snappy, short-tempered, prickly, suspicious, and altogether more unpleasant than she was to begin with. It’s no wonder why Nimble Dick thought it would be better to simply check her coin bag while she’s away. That way, she never has to know about it, and he can have peace of mind, knowing that he is not investing himself into a days-long trek through the woods just to be cheated out of payment at the end. She lied about her sisters already, she could lie about gold, too.

Brienne’s line that she “hoped he was a better guide than he was a thief” convicts Dick of attempted thievery. But the equally viable flipside of that observation is that if Dick were truly trying to steal from her, he probably would not have been stupid enough to do it the way he did, in broad daylight while both group members were awake. That Dick checked Brienne’s coin bag in the day time in full view of Podrick Payne while Brienne was awake and within shouting distance may demonstrate that Nimble Dick was not overly concerned with getting caught because he was not intending to steal in the first place. Additionally, inasmuch as getting caught reaching into Brienne’s saddlebag could have resulted in costs of various kinds to Nimble Dick, the fact that he did it anyway can suggest that a counterweighing cost of greater proportion was at stake for Nimble Dick, which alludes to the points I made about six gold coins being a lot more money to Nimble Dick than it is to Brienne of Tarth, and about a days-long trek through the woods being a great investment of time, resources, energy, and opportunity cost for Nimble Dick.

The scene illustrates a problem with being too mistrustful. You can’t learn if a person is trustworthy if you won’t trust him with anything. Dick did everything a person in his situation could have done to assuage Brienne’s worries about him, short of cowtowing, groveling, or flattering. But as a self-respecting man, he simply wouldn’t be cowed. And as the ending shows, nothing except dying could earn him Brienne’s trust. A lot of good her trust did him then!

An Honorable Gesture

Brienne sheathed Oathkeeper, gathered up Dick Crabb, and carried him to the hole. His face was hard to look on. “I’m sorry that I never trusted you. I don’t know how to do that anymore.” (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

After the fight, as Nimble Dick lay dead, Brienne insisted upon burying him out of respect. Her thoughts show that she finally realized that he was trustworthy after all, even though he died before he could do anything in the fight to prove his trustworthiness further than he already had. Dick’s brutal death shocked Brienne into sympathy for him and finally forced her feelings about him to be rejoined with reality.

Podrick helped her lower Nimble Dick into his hole. By the time they were done the moon was rising. Brienne rubbed the dirt from her hands and tossed two dragons down into the grave.

“Why did you do that, my lady? Ser?” asked Pod.

“It was the reward I promised him for finding me the fool.”

Laughter sounded from behind them. She ripped Oathkeeper from her sheath and whirled, expecting more Bloody Mummers … but it was only Hyle Hunt atop the crumbling wall, his legs crossed. “If there are brothels down in hell, the wretch will thank you,” the knight called down. “Elsewise, that’s a waste of good gold.”

“I keep my promises. What are you doing here?” (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

Brienne tossed two gold coins into Nimble Dick’s grave in order to keep her part of the bargain (“Two if we only find the fool.”). It’s a sentimental thing to do. Hyle Hunt laughed at the gesture and said it’s a waste of gold because Nimble Dick can’t use it now. This exchange highlights that Brienne came to her senses about Nimble Dick too late. The futility of the gesture shows that it has nothing to do with helping Nimble Dick and everything to do with making herself feel better. This gesture tracks with the thematic question about honor. Because, while the gesture is undeniably good in spirit, it is useless or counter-productive in practice. So, too, goes the criticism against honor, that’s made by Nimble Dick Crabb and by many readers.

Brienne channels the feelings that scare her through her honor. It’s her way of avoiding processing her emotions so that she doesn’t have to confront them. She feels romantic love for Renly but she fears it will never be returned because she’s outwardly ugly, so she channels her love through honor and commits to protecting him for life. Similarly, she feels romantic love for Jaime but she fears it will never be returned, so she channels it through honor. Brienne swears to redeem Jaime’s honor by finding Sansa and Arya. As with Renly and Jaime, with Nimble Dick Brienne feels a feeling that scares her — guilt for mistrusting Nimble Dick and getting him killed — so she channels that feeling through honor by giving due payment to his corpse. But obvious to most people, protecting Renly will never make Renly love her, redeeming Jaime’s honor will never make Jaime love her, and giving two gold to a corpse she created is no real payment at all.

Brienne knows deep down that she killed Nimble Dick as much as Shagwell did, and that’s what scares her. Had she seen Nimble Dick for who he really is, she would have recognized that rather than giving him a sword so that he can help in the fight, she should have protected him by entering the Whispers alone.

Brienne is not a knight, but inasmuch as she wants to be one, she should have remembered that knights protect the weak and innocent, no matter if the knight doesn’t personally like that person. This was not Nimble Dick’s fight to fight, it was Brienne’s. Nimble Dick promised to take her to the Whispers, and that’s what he did. Brienne did the right thing by sending Podrick away, but she failed to recognize that she needed to protect Nimble Dick, too. Brienne should have sent Nimble Dick away with Podrick, set Nimble Dick to guarding the entrance, the horses, or instructed him to stay out of the fight. What Nimble Dick would have done after that is Nimble Dick’s prerogative, but Brienne needed to try to protect him in one of those ways.

Dick steel sword brienne whispers

Had Brienne not used her magic sword, Nimble Dick never would have known that she had a second sword, and Nimble Dick being unarmed would have been a great pretext for Brienne to use as the reason why he should not enter the Whispers with her. In this way, the magic sword had the power to save a life if only its owner had restrained herself from using it, like her childhood hero Ser Galladon.

Nimble Dick’s presence in the fight did nothing to help Brienne win it. Shagwell killing Nimble Dick didn’t buy Brienne time to fight someone else, because Brienne didn’t spend that time fighting anyone else. After Shagwell killed Nimble Dick, everybody stood around talking for a while before the fight began. Nimble Dick’s knee and face didn’t damage Shagwell’s morningstar. Nimble Dick’s dead body didn’t even obstruct the bad guys from reaching Brienne. The entire situation and fight scene is written in such a way that it renders Nimble Dick’s death absolutely unhelpful in any way to Brienne’s victory. Yet, except for Podrick’s stonethrow, Brienne won the fight by herself anyway. One potential meaning of all this is pretty straightforward in retrospect: Nimble Dick should not have been in the fight to begin with.

A Sword Too Many

It rained all that day. The narrow track they followed soon turned to mud beneath them. What trees they saw were naked, and the steady rain had turned their fallen leaves into a sodden brown mat. Despite its squirrel-skin lining, Dick’s cloak soaked through, and she could see him shivering. Brienne felt a moment’s pity for the man. He has not eaten well, that’s plain. She wondered if there truly was a smugglers’ cove, or a ruined castle called the Whispers. Hungry men do desperate things. This all might be some ploy to cozen her. Suspicion soured her stomach.

For a time it seemed as though the steady wash of rain was the only sound in the world. Nimble Dick plowed on, heedless. She watched closely, noting how he bent his back, as if huddling low in the saddle would keep him dry. This time there was no village close at hand when darkness came upon them. Nor were there any trees to give them shelter. They were forced to camp amongst some rocks, fifty yards above the tideline. The rocks at least would keep the wind off. “Best we keep a watch tonight, m’lady,” Crabb told her, as she was struggling to get a driftwood fire lit. “A place like this, there might be squishers.” (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

Throughout this chapter, we see Brienne see Nimble Dick shivering in the cold, sleeping in the cold, sleeping in the rain, going hungry, and slumping over pitifully in his saddle. Instead of thinking he’s hurting, hungry, and tired, she seems to think he’s stupid.

Feelings of pity for Nimble Dick begin to creep into Brienne’s heart, telling a story of a cold and hungry old man who has been pushed to the limit of what his body can tolerate. But immediately after her pity, it’s as if some hateful propagandist steps into her thoughts to rewrite the story of what’s obviously happening with Dick. Nimble Dick’s shivering, slumping, and hunger are evidence of some great deception he’s doing against her, she thinks. He must be very devoted to the ruse in order to go to all this trouble without complaint, but hungry men do desperate things, after all.

Many of the discomforts Nimble Dick suffered were unnecessary, and they were consequences of Brienne not trusting Nimble Dick enough to let him sleep in better conditions. Despite that, Nimble Dick managed to maintain enough good will to entertain the group with a spooky campfire story about a local monster called squishers. Still, it wasn’t enough to charm Brienne or move her from her mistrust. If anything, the lie of the fable only made her more mistrustful.

Though Brienne finally trusted Nimble Dick at the end in a big way (she gave him a sword at a risky moment), all the mistrust that preceded that moment can cause a discerning reader to wonder if Brienne was really moved by trust at all, or by something else. Perhaps a self-interested wish not to face the danger alone.

I think the right answer is something inbetween. I think trust was not really what moved Brienne to give Nimble Dick the sword, and that Brienne also did not want to face the danger alone. It seems to me that most of the explanation for what happened is that after deciding to wield Oathkeeper, Brienne realized that she had a spare sword, and she saw no reason not to put the spare sword to use by putting it into the hands of Nimble Dick, who by all rights is a man grown.

In that interpretation, the availability of a spare sword is much of what caused Brienne’s misstep. And Brienne’s decision to use Oathkeeper is what created the availability of a sword. So, Nimble Dick’s death relates to what we explored earlier from this chapter involving honor and Ser Galladon of Morne’s magic sword. In a perverse way, it could be said that Nimble Dick sowed the seeds of his own death when he mocked Ser Galladon for not using his magic sword. If only he had known that Brienne would be so easily influenced by his comments. Uprightly, perhaps I should say instead that Brienne should not have been so easily affected by a little bit of mockery. The ease at which she was influenced to abandon her lifelong ideal of honor is constant with what I said about honor being a tool for self-comfort to Brienne.

Yet, there’s another attitude in Brienne that’s impossible to ignore because it features so prominently in this and many of Brienne’s chapters, and I think it was at play in this situation, too. Nimble Dick is not merely a person who Brienne mistrusts, he’s a person who belongs to an identity that Brienne mistrusts collectively.

If Brienne’s encounter with Nimble Dick had been an encounter with Nimble Dick moreso than an encounter with a man, she might have seen him for who he really is — a personable, well-meaning, and amusing old coot who tells it like it is. True enough, some knight getting in Sansa’s slit is an accurate summary of the horrors that can visit a highborn maid who doesn’t have sufficient protection on the road, no matter how offensive Nimble Dick’s language or chivalrous the knight’s vows.

As if to dispel the last doubts about whether Brienne’s adventure with Nimble Dick Crabb is meant to portray Brienne’s mistrust of Nimble Dick Crabb alone or of Men The Collective, Brienne’s mistrust of Nimble Dick Crabb licenses a simple description of this adventure that can scarcely be a coincidence on the part of the author: Brienne doesn’t trust Dick.

In true fantasy form, through Nimble Dick Crabb’s name the voice of the story cheekily transforms into the voice of the author. It’s as if GRRM is claiming the last word in the argument about what this part of the story is really about between Brienne’s mistrust of one man and Brienne’s mistrust of all men. “Dick” can refer to Nimble Dick Crabb, or to men collectively, or to the male sex organ. The sentence remains true no matter which meaning we use. This relates to Brienne’s sexual repression that I alluded to when I said Brienne’s feelings scare her. The underlying recognition is that the author could have chosen any name imaginable for the character who guides Brienne to the Whispers after making a dick first impression of himself, yet he chose Dick, and he nimbly hid it between a Nimble nickname and Crabb — an animal as offputting as the offspring of a tarantula and a scorpion.

In contrast to GRRM’s alleged tropebreaker habits, a surprising element of this recontextualization is that Martin adheres to the fantasy tradition of naming characters what they are, reminiscent of Lewis Carroll’s rabbit White Rabbit, C.S. Lewis’s beaver Mr. Beaver, and J.K. Rowling’s werewolf Professor Lupin.

Helpful Hand Or Murderous Mitt?

When Brienne approached a cliff to look over the edge of it, Nimble Dick walked over to point something out to her.

“That’s the old beacon tower,” said Nimble Dick as he came up behind her. “It fell when I was half as old as Pods here. Used to be steps down to the cove, but when the cliff collapsed they went too. The smugglers stopped landing here after that. Time was, they could row their boats into the cave, but no more. See?” He put one hand on her back, and pointed with the other.

Brienne’s flesh prickled. One shove, and I’ll be down there with the tower. She stepped back. “Keep your hands off me.”

Crabb made a face. “I was only …”

“I don’t care what you were only. Where’s the gate?” (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

This touch caused Brienne’s flesh to prickle, and she thinks to herself “One shove, and I’ll be down there with the tower.” This shows us in certain terms that Brienne thinks Nimble Dick may want to kill her.

Who am I to question Brienne’s intuition? I’m not the one living out her scenario, she is. Surely that makes her a better judge of Nimble Dick than I am.

While that’s a reasonable assumption in general, it’s also reasonable to say that murder is far beyond anything Nimble Dick has done so far. Based on the sum of everything Nimble Dick has yet shown himself to be, Brienne’s fear that he may want to murder her is paranoid. Maybe if Brienne hadn’t treated him so poorly for the whole journey, she wouldn’t have given him as much reason to resent her, and she wouldn’t feel the need to worry so much.

There are two viable interpretations of Nimble Dick that are running through this whole chapter — the one in which Nimble Dick seems suspiciously like he’s trying to lull Brienne into a sense of false security for some nefarious purpose, and the one in which Nimble Dick is genuinely trying to be helpful and friendly but Brienne’s mistrust is inconsolable. The first interpretation is the one a first-time reader will have. The second interpretation may only become visible on a second or later reading, once the reader knows that the chapter ends with the murder of Nimble Dick and Brienne’s guilt about not trusting him.

Brienne The Maid

Brienne paid the villagers a few coppers to allow them to bed down in a hay barn. She claimed the loft for Podrick and herself, and pulled the ladder up after them.

“You leave me down here alone, I could bloody well steal your horses,” Crabb called up from below. “Best you get them up the ladder too, m’lady.” When she ignored him, he went on to say, “It’s going to rain tonight. A cold hard rain. You and Pods will sleep all snug and warm, and poor old Dick will be shivering down here by myself.” He shook his head, muttering, as he made a bed on a pile of hay. “I never knew such a mistrustful maid as you.”

Brienne curled up beneath her cloak, with Podrick yawning at her side. I was not always wary, she might have shouted down at Crabb. When I was a little girl I believed that all men were as noble as my father. (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

Brienne’s mistrust of men the collective is neither entirely misguided nor unsympathetically earned. She had a traumatic experience when Hyle Hunt and his friends played a cruel joke on her, for one thing. And as Nimble Dick himself implied, there are enough bad men in the world that even an elevated class of men who swore vows to protect women and the weak has its share of would-be rapers.

But at the end of the day, those are exceptions to the rule. Much of Brienne’s internal struggle is that she needs to find the balanced medium between fully trusting and fully mistrusting every man she meets. She needs to learn discernment. Until she can do that, the blind spot that’s being portrayed in Brienne in the situation where she got Nimble Dick killed will continue to characterize her experiences wherever they involve men.

A silver lining is that Brienne’s contempt for men does not seem to automatically apply to young men such as her teenage squire Podrick Payne. Maybe, like Howland the shady crannogman and Ned the honor obsessed snow paladin, Podrick Payne will be the unlikely friendship formed that provides the falsification Brienne needs of the misandrist outlook she’s flirting with.

Galladon’s Honor, Tower of Joy Cues

To summarize what we’ve covered so far, let’s put it all together as it relates to the Whispers≈TOJ parallel we’re working on.

  • Brienne’s contempt for Nimble Dick prevents her from having compassion for him.
  • Brienne’s contempt for Nimble Dick prevents her from being honorable.
  • Being a man and named Dick, Nimble Dick is symbolic of men collectively.
  • Therefore, Brienne’s contempt for Nimble Dick is symbolic of Brienne’s contempt for men collectively.
  • Because we agreed with Brienne at first, Brienne is symbolic of the audience.
  • Therefore, Brienne’s contempt for Nimble Dick is symbolic of the audience’s contempt for men collectively.

Because the reader didn’t notice the first time around that Brienne’s mistrust of Nimble Dick comes from her hatred of men, it can fairly be said that what the story is suggesting is that, like Brienne, the audience has a deeply ingrained hatred of men, and that that’s what prevents us from noticing that Nimble Dick is a trustworthy fellow, from making progress on the Tower of Joy mystery, and perhaps from making progress on other mysteries, too. Likewise, the story is suggesting that our hatred of men is what prevents us from understanding what’s wrong with honor in the hypothetical match-up between Ser Galladon of Morne and Ser Clarence Crabb.

It’s time we tie a bow on a thread we wove in Chapter 5. ‘What’s the matter with honor, then?’

The problem with Ser Galladon’s honor is that, actually, there is nothing wrong with Ser Galladon’s honor. Rather, there is something wrong with Brienne’s (and the reader’s) understanding of Ser Galladon’s honor.

When Nimble Dick challenged Brienne about Ser Galladon not using his magic sword, Brienne answered “honor.”

Crabb thought that was hilarious. “The Perfect Knight? The Perfect Fool, he sounds like. What’s the point o’ having some magic sword if you don’t bloody well use it?”

“Honor,” she said. “The point is honor.” (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

Honor is the correct answer, so Brienne’s intuition is good. But describing how the answer is correct is more difficult. Like Brienne, we may have a sense of certainty that honor is a good and worthwhile thing to strive for and that ultimately it pays off well, even for the person who’s being honorable, but we may not be able to persuasively describe how that happens in a given situation.

To describe it, I’ll draw from my background of video gaming. Indeed, I think much of my ability to work the literary puzzles in ASOIAF was developed when I was playing video games through my childhood and teens, and most people are familiar with video games these days, so I may as well do homage to the hobby.

Some video games allow you to select the difficulty level of the game. Typically, these difficulty levels are called Easy Mode, Normal Mode, and Hard Mode. Some games expand these options to four, five, or more, but these three are enough to make my point. Ser Galladon’s decision to not use the Just Maid against mortals is like Ser Galladon choosing to play the game on Hard Mode. What do you think will happen to Ser Galladon’s fighting skills when he gets used to playing on Hard Mode? Probably the same thing that happens to my skills when I change the difficulty level of a video game from normal to hard — his skills will improve in order to win.

As the tale goes, Ser Galladon of Morne is depicted as a world class fighter in his time. Needless to say, becoming a world class fighter is hard, and you know you’re never going to do the things you need to do in order to achieve it unless you have to. So, if you’re wise, you arrange your circumstances so that you have to. That’s what Galladon was doing when he decided never to use the Just Maid against mortals.

sword Just Maid galladon

Increasing the difficulty of anything can be dangerous if it isn’t done selectively. After all, if Galladon were to restrain himself from using his magic sword while his opponent is an immortal, Galladon would surely be killed. Almost by definition, a fight against an immortal is not a winnable fight for a mortal. So, the principle should only be applied in situations that pose a survivable amount of danger. The risk of misusing the principle this way is why the principle tends to be intuitive to men and unintuitive to women. Men on average are more willing to take risks than women on average. But, when the principle is applied with wisdom, it is greatly productive. By neglecting to use his magic sword against mortals, Ser Galladon subjected himself to the maximum amount of danger that mortals can pose. Because of that, the only thing left to protect Galladon from defeat was his will to win and live. That’s how Galladon’s honor was the source of Galladon’s valor, and that’s one mechanism by which honor pays off in the end despite its cost early on.

This description of honor fits well with other details of the Ser Galladon story. In Ser Galladon’s story, the Maiden fell in love with Galladon for his valor and rewarded him with the Just Maid. To put it another way, the reason Galladon received a magic sword was not that the Maiden fell in love with him, it was that he had valor. The Maiden just happened to be attracted to valor. Once he received the magic sword, he knew its potency would degrade his valor if he became dependent on it, so that’s why he refused to use it except against immortals.

The lesson Brienne took from the Ser Galladon of Morne story was approximately ‘Forget honor, don’t hold back your power when it really counts.’ The irony of the situation is that if Brienne had not allowed herself to be persuaded off the code of honor that made her hero Ser Galladon honorable, then Ser Galladon’s story would have prevented Brienne from getting Nimble Dick killed by giving him a spare sword.

Recall the story of Ser Goodwin’s lesson to Brienne.

It may be that I will need to kill him [mysterious follower Hyle Hunt], she told herself one night as she paced about the camp. The notion made her queasy. Her old master-at-arms had always questioned whether she was hard enough for battle. “You have a man’s strength in your arms,” Ser Goodwin had said to her, more than once, “but your heart is as soft as any maid’s. It is one thing to train in the yard with a blunted sword in hand, and another to drive a foot of sharpened steel into a man’s gut and see the light go out of his eyes.” To toughen her, Ser Goodwin used to send her to her father’s butcher to slaughter lambs and suckling pigs. The piglets squealed and the lambs screamed like frightened children. By the time the butchering was done Brienne had been blind with tears, her clothes so bloody that she had given them to her maid to burn. But Ser Goodwin still had doubts. “A piglet is a piglet. It is different with a man. When I was a squire young as you, I had a friend who was strong and quick and agile, a champion in the yard. We all knew that one day he would be a splendid knight. Then war came to the Stepstones. I saw my friend drive his foeman to his knees and knock the axe from his hand, but when he might have finished he held back for half a heartbeat. In battle half a heartbeat is a lifetime. The man slipped out his dirk and found a chink in my friend’s armor. His strength, his speed, his valor, all his hard-won skill … it was worth less than a mummer’s fart, because he flinched from killing. Remember that, girl.”

I will, she promised his shade, there in the piney wood. She sat down on a rock, took out her sword, and began to hone its edge. I will remember, and I pray I will not flinch. (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

Brienne’s memory of Ser Goodwin’s lesson served as a tie-breaker opinion on whether Ser Galladon is honorable or foolish to not use his magic sword against mortal men. So, Ser Goodwin is one reason Brienne didn’t get the “good win.” She won the fight, but it was a bad win because she got an innocent killed and she betrayed the ideal that her hero Ser Galladon stood for.

‘But aren’t you being too hard on Brienne?’ I hear you saying. Indeed, Brienne was against three enemies at the same time. They were armed with some serious weaponry such as the spear and morningstar. They even had some scraps of armor. These three men are battle hardened from their time in the War of the Five Kings, so they probably have experience fighting. Additionally, the “magic” of Brienne’s magic sword made a difference in the fight. As we can see in Brienne’s attack against Pyg, Oathkeeper’s exceptional sharpness is what allowed Oathkeeper to bite through all of Pyg’s protection.

He jerked his broken blade up to protect his face, but as he went high she went low. Oathkeeper bit through leather, wool, skin, and muscle, into the sellsword’s thigh. Pyg cut back wildly as his leg went out from under him. His broken sword scraped against her chain mail before he landed on his back. Brienne stabbed him through the throat, (…) (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

And as we can see in Brienne’s fight against Timeon, Oathkeeper’s exceptional sharpness is what allowed Oathkeeper to pierce Timeon’s chain mail byrnie, and maybe his spear head, too.

She flew at Timeon.

He was better than Pyg, but he had only a short throwing spear, and she had a Valyrian steel blade. Oathkeeper was alive in her hands. She had never been so quick. The blade became a grey blur. He wounded her in the shoulder as she came at him, but she slashed off his ear and half his cheek, hacked the head off his spear, and put a foot of rippled steel into his belly through the links of the chain mail byrnie he was wearing.

Timeon was still trying to fight as she pulled her blade from him, its fullers running red with blood. He clawed at his belt and came up with a dagger, so Brienne cut his hand off. That one was for Jaime. “Mother have mercy,” the Dornishman gasped, the blood bubbling from his mouth and spurting from his wrist. “Finish it. Send me back to Dorne, you bloody bitch.”

She did. (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

Brienne didn’t use her sword against Shagwell, she killed him with a dagger, so there’s no sword magic to see there.

So there! Oathkeeper’s magical sharpness had a verifiable effect on the outcome of at least three things: The attacks against Pyg’s leather, Timeon’s chain mail, and Timeon’s spear head. Oathkeeper’s magical speed also certainly had an effect on the outcome of every swing, making each attack faster than it would have been if Brienne had used the sword made of regular steel.

However, at the end of all these Valyrian steel observations, the pertinent question is not really answered, is it?

The pertinent question is ‘Would Brienne have won the fight without permanent injury if she had used the regular steel sword instead of the Valyrian steel sword?’ I don’t know the answer to that. And more to the point, neither does Brienne. The only way to know was to try it, and Brienne didn’t try it.

Like my feelings about myself after I beat a video game on Normal Mode, a careful examination of Brienne’s victory in the Whispers fight leaves me with the feeling that Brienne probably could have won reasonably well on Hard Mode, too, if she had tried. Thus, the victory loses some of its savor.

How much more skillful, knowledgeable, faster and precise do I become at a video game after I played it on Hard Mode compared to after I played it on Normal Mode? The difference in my abilities is quite noticeable when I do it, but that does require me to actually do it. Likewise, how much faster, stronger, knowledgeable, precise, and dare I say “valiant” would Brienne become if she were not using her magic sword against mortal foes? As in Galladon’s irresistible valor, the difference is probably quite noticeable when she does it… but that does require her to actually do it.

‘But aren’t you being too hard on Ser Goodwin?’ I don’t hear you saying. Indeed, Ser Goodwin was probably not trying to teach Brienne a cynical lesson that brutality is a virtue in men. He was probably trying to scare her away from what he considers a young Tarth princess’s foolish fixation on becoming a warrior. The intended message of Ser Goodwin’s story may likely have been as straightforward as ‘War is nasty business. You think you want to be a warrior, but you don’t.’ But as we acknowledged earlier about honor, describing the mechanism by which something is good and right is sometimes more difficult than knowing deep down that it is. With things as old and important as war and honor, the knowing is often within us long before a description arrives to justify it.

The Moral of the Story

In the end, Brienne should not have used her magic sword in this fight, after all. She failed to uphold the knightly oath to protect the weak and innocent when she included Nimble Dick in the fight, because since Nimble Dick was a man and she didn’t like him, she didn’t recognize that he’s somebody she ought to protect. Being no knight, it’s an oath she never swore, so her hands are technically clean. Still, it’s enough to render Lord Randyll Tarly’s words prophetic by mortal standards.

“I have been sent to look for … for …” She hesitated.

“How will you find him if you do not know his name? Did you slay Lord Renly?”

“No.”

Tarly weighed the word. He is judging me, as he judged those others. “No,” he said at last, “you only let him die.” (AFFC 14 Brienne III)

In essay chapter 5, I said well-done symbolic interpretation is uniquely marked by its explanatory power over not just the things in the story but also the story’s effect on its audience. Symbolic interpretation’s explanatory power over the story is not unique. Other kinds of interpretation can explain things in the story just fine. But there are some questions only symbolic interpretation can answer, and those tend to be the questions the audience is mostly asking. They’re the story’s mysteries, like “What do the Others want?”, “Who is Azor Ahai?”, and “What’s up with Rhaegar?” So what really distinguishes symbolic interpretation from other kinds of interpretation is its explanatory power over the story’s effect on the audience. It explains the story through its explanation of the audience.

For each reader, the most accessible part of the audience is him or her self. I have a depth of access to what I’m thinking and feeling that I can never have to what another person is thinking and feeling. The value of this access can be sabotaged, however, by not paying attention to myself or not being honest with myself. Accessing the answers to ASOIAF’s most famous mysteries demands an amount of attention to and honesty with oneself that is rare, and that usually takes a long time to cultivate.

For instance, Brienne first told Dick that she was looking for her sister, and then after Dick said there were two girls instead of one, Brienne changed her story so that she’s looking for her two sisters. Ask yourself if you noticed before I pointed it out that Brienne changed her story. Don’t answer me, answer yourself. Did you really notice that? I didn’t notice it until I reread these chapters with the specific goal in mind to look at situations from Dick’s perspective instead of Brienne’s. If you didn’t notice it, are you able to admit that to yourself? Does your mind try to deny that you didn’t notice it? Is it grasping for a rationalization? Is it making up a story or an excuse? Those are all things that my mind likes to do when it learns that it’s guilty of some oversight or misapprehension, especially if the oversight reflects poorly on my values.

To find the answers to ASOIAF’s mysteries, at minimum you have to be the kind of person who can admit to himself when his thoughts, feelings or expectations about the story were wrong. For better results, you also have to actively seek evidence in the story that you’re wrong. For even better results, you have to do that when you’re mostly right and only a little wrong. Your interpretive errors are perhaps your most potent clues about what the “moral of the story” might be, and that applies no matter how big or small the piece of the story you’re handling is — one little sentence or the whole kit and caboodle.

After noticing that Brienne’s easily detectable lie was probably noticed by Nimble Dick, too, and how it gives Nimble Dick reason to mistrust Brienne, and that I failed to notice it the first time around, that’s enough of a cue from the story for me to start considering that this chapter’s lesson to me, or “moral”, has something to do with my failure to notice that Nimble Dick has good reason to mistrust Brienne. In a chapter that seems like it’s about Brienne having good reasons to mistrust Nimble Dick, Nimble Dick having a good reason to mistrust Brienne is quite the reversal of my first impression. For a reader who’s actively seeking evidence that he’s wrong about something, this stands out in a big way. For a reader who isn’t, it’s easy to write it off.

‘Maybe Brienne learned just now from Nimble Dick that her second sister is missing, too. Nimble Dick wouldn’t be able to know she’s lying.’ Perhaps not, but then again, how could Brienne know the second girl is her sister too if she had no reason to think her second sister was lost before now? If before now Brienne apparently thought her second sister was safe and accounted for, wouldn’t she have wondered at the identity of the girl her sister is traveling with? Some companion chance met on the road, most like. No matter how we look at it, Brienne’s change of story should be more than a little fishy from the perspective of Nimble Dick.

Symbols Preserved in the Crypt: Nimble Dick Crabb≈Lord Dustin

Since this interpretation recontextualizes Brienne as less heroic than we thought, (which is another way of saying more villainous than we thought), and since Brienne is symbolic of Ned in the overarching Whispers≈TOJ symbol, this suggests that our feelings about Ned will be recontextualized the same way when we learn all there is to learn about the Tower of Joy.

As if to hint of a villainous recontextualization of Ned’s actions at the Tower of Joy, Barbrey Dustin’s anger toward Ned for getting her husband killed at the Tower of Joy became observable to the reader in ADWD, during her conversation with Theon in the Winterfell crypt.

“Ned Stark returned the horse to me on his way back home to Winterfell. He told me that my lord had died an honorable death, that his body had been laid to rest beneath the red mountains of Dorne. He brought his sister’s bones back north, though, and there she rests … but I promise you, Lord Eddard’s bones will never rest beside hers. I mean to feed them to my dogs.” (ADWD 41 The Turncloak)

This recontextualization of Ned is also present in this Whispers situation with our Ned symbol, Brienne. Just as Barbrey’s perspective rubs against the reader’s admiration of Ned for including someone in the fight at the Tower of Joy who died and was buried there, so does Nimble Dick’s perspective rub against the reader’s admiration of Brienne for including Nimble Dick in the fight at the Tower of Joy symbol, the Whispers, who died and was buried there.

In this way, our TOJ symbols successfully predicted the story again. And my analysis of it too, it would seem. I did not notice this connection to House Dustin until I was writing this essay chapter. Before then, Barbrey Dustin was the furthest character from my mind while handling the Whispers and Tower of Joy parallel. The frequency at which connections like this one occur to me used to shock me. But now, a couple of years after I’ve worked out most of ASOIAF’s philosophy and mysteries, they occur to me almost every time I read a chapter. They’re bound to occur to you more frequently too if you continue studying the story. But as you may now understand better from this essay chapter, you won’t like everything you learn. My only promises are that my analysis and the answers therein will be true, will give you a greater understanding of the story, will accurately predict the future of the story, and will stand the test of time. I make no promise that they will be popular.

In my original interpretation, Brienne’s decision to give Nimble Dick a sword was her moment of character progression. Ostensibly, Brienne had overcome her mistrust of men the collective and finally trusted man an individual. She was able to put aside the hatreds and resentments that cause her to see a collective when looking at an individual, and that’s why she was able to see the individual for who he really is. But now that I know Brienne’s decision was a failure of honor, which resulted in Nimble Dick’s death, it puts a major damper on the character progression interpretation. By now we should be questioning if putting aside her hatred for men was really what caused Brienne to give Nimble Dick a sword at all.

Did Brienne really see Nimble Dick for the disagreeable yet ultimately trustworthy individual he is? Or was she compelled to give him a sword by some other reason?

There are two other main possibilities that I see for why Brienne gave Nimble Dick the sword. The first possibility is that Brienne was compelled to give him the sword by her fear of facing a scary situation alone. Descriptions of fear setting into Brienne are readily available to suit this possibility. For example, she begins to imagine that the eerie sounds that are coming from beneath the ground are indeed the severed heads from the Ser Clarence Crabb story, despite the fact that she invalidated those same fears when Podrick Payne voiced them. For another example, she gets a creepy feeling that causes her to hesitate just before she enters the Whispers.

The postern door resisted for a moment, then jerked open, its hinges screaming protest. The sound made the hairs on the back of Brienne’s neck stand up. She drew her sword. Even in mail and boiled leather, she felt naked. (AFFC 20 Brienne IV)

The second possibility is that Brienne was compelled to give Nimble Dick the sword because she considered him too weak to be able to harm her much with it anyway. I think this possibility is closer to the truth, because the order of events suggests that Brienne did trust in something about Nimble Dick. After all, Brienne gave him the sword before Podrick Payne had arrived with Oathkeeper. That means that Brienne gave Nimble Dick a sword while she was not yet armed with a sword of her own. What Brienne trusted in was Nimble Dick’s weakness or incompetence with a sword — that he wouldn’t be able to hurt her even if he wanted to and even while she’s swordless. If that’s the right explanation for why Brienne gave Nimble Dick a sword even before she had Oathkeeper in hand, then her size, strength, armor, and dagger may likely have factored into her decision, too.

Still, if Brienne thought Nimble Dick was so weak and useless with a sword, it’s a wonder what she expected him to contribute in a fight. Because of this contradiction, Brienne appears to have little regard for Nimble Dick’s life, because she’s willing to put him in a great amount of danger for a small amount of advantage. What’s more, because a sword is as much for self defense as for attack, she can comfortably deceive herself by telling herself that she’s doing it to protect Nimble Dick.

If the lesson Brienne needs to learn is to overcome her hatred of men, and Brienne is symbolic of us, maybe we need to learn the same lesson to make progress on the Whispers≈TOJ parallel and then the Tower of Joy mystery.

However, you don’t have to take that lesson. You could take a different lesson entirely. You could say it’s not your fault that you didn’t consider Nimble Dick’s perspective because GRRM tricked you by writing the story a certain way. You could even say you disagree with my interpretation, denounce me as a fraud, and swear to never read my work again. That’s all perfectly good and well.

One of the brilliant features of this chapter’s design is that because the shock of Nimble Dick’s recontextualization from creepy betrayer to tragic victim happens to the reader through Brienne, there is never a moment in the audience when readers are especially split between those who trash Nimble Dick and those who defend him. It’s a rare monster who would speak ill of the innocent dead. Because we never had to confront the fact that we were wrong about Nimble Dick just like Brienne was, our wrongness is never exposed to other people, and we can hide it even from ourselves. In this way, the secrets that the situation has to teach us about ASOIAF are reserved for those rare readers who are genuinely seeking how the story got them to be wrong, in order to retrieve a moral of the story.

But independent of me, the fact remains that if you can’t take a lesson from a story, and more specifically the right lesson, you’re unlikely to ever solve its mysteries. And the degree to which an idea can imply accurate predictions about the story, particularly its future such as in answers to unresolved mysteries, is the degree to which the idea is right. That’s all just a fancy way of saying I expect my analysis to mold in obscurity for a long time before the accuracy of the predictions contained within them are measured against the events in The Winds of Winter and A Dream of Spring and found to be majorly correct.

For those who are still reading, we know enough now about the moral of the chapter’s story to return to applying our symbols between the Whispers and the Tower of Joy, and to learn much of what happened in the Tower of Joy fight. That’s up next.

Next: Chapter 9 – The Fight and Fighters II

Beginning: Chapter 0-4 – Introduction


Acclaim

Thank you for these valuable deep dives! I wish we had a devoted ASOIAF subreddit for this kind of stuff, as it can get lost among the memes and griping on here.
It’s a lot to digest, but worth it. —u/4thBG


Created Jul 18, 2024
Updated Aug 24, 2024 – minor changes, additions
Updated Aug 30, 2024 – changes and adds
Updated May 17, 2025 – small changes
Updated Jul 1, 2025 – small add, like galladon

ADWD 15 Davos II

Queen Selyse had feasted Salla and his captains, the night before the fleet had set sail. Cotter Pyke had joined them, and four other high officers of the Night’s Watch. Princess Shireen had been allowed to attend as well. As the salmon was being served, Ser Axell Florent had entertained the table with the tale of a Targaryen princeling who kept an ape as a pet. This prince liked to dress the creature in his dead son’s clothes and pretend he was a child, Ser Axell claimed, and from time to time he would propose marriages for him. The lords so honored always declined politely, but of course they did decline. “Even dressed in silk and velvet, an ape remains an ape,” Ser Axell said. “A wiser prince would have known that you cannot send an ape to do a man’s work.” The queen’s men laughed, and several grinned at Davos. I am no ape, he’d thought. I am as much a lord as you, and a better man. But the memory still stung. (ADWD Davos II)

I think the metatext of this passage is that it’s an example of a character, in this case Axell Florent, interpreting a story wrong. And it’s funny because it’s his own story. More specifically and I think importantly, it’s showing the way he’s interpreting the story wrong.

Axell’s last comment frames the situation as though the ape is being sent to do a man’s work. But that interpretation reveals that Axell hasn’t adequately put himself in the mind of the Targaryen prince. To the prince, the ape is his son rather than an ape. And the prince is not trying to send the ape to do work (marriage / sex), rather, the prince is trying to attract human women to marry his son. Then Axell’s audience / the reader / Davos are able to translate “son” back to “ape”, because we aren’t delusional like the prince.

So the first part of Axell’s interpretation is perfect, and the second part is contrived, apparently for the purpose of insulting Davos, who, unlike the ape, was actually “sent” by Stannis to do a “man’s work” (find allies for Stannis).

In the process of looking closely at Axell’s interpretation of a story, we’re able to identify the motivation and impulses within Axell that are driving his interpretation.

Perhaps a metatext of this passage is that it directs the reader to do a better job of putting himself into the mind and situation of the characters in the story.

Perhaps another metatext is that the passage directs the reader to look closely at the interpretations he himself and the other readers make of the story, with a mind to sussing out the reader’s underlying motivations and impulses that are driving the interpretation.


Created Nov 24, 2022

AGOT 13 Tyrion II

I recorded an audio reading of this chapter with my own voice just to try it. Here’s that.


They had left Winterfell on the same day as the king, amidst all the commotion of the royal departure, riding out to the sound of men shouting and horses snorting, to the rattle of wagons and the groaning of the queen’s huge wheelhouse, as a light snow flurried about them.

George R.R. Martin is a master speedpainter with words. It never ceases to amaze me how fast he can immerse me in this world.


I’m noticing a trend with this story in which many of the chapters are structured like an optical illusion. My first impression of a chapter will be one thing, and it tends to be a resilient impression that’s difficult for me to challenge. But after I’ve challenged it seriously, my new impression is opposite or nearly opposite to the first one, yet even more resilient.

The first impression that Tyrion and Jon’s conversation leaves me with is one of disillusionment. Jon is being disillusioned by Tyrion about the venerable Night’s Watch, the fabled monsters beyond the Wall, and ultimately about his lot in life as a bastard. But the Others in the prologue give the lie to Tyrion’s assertion that the monsters beyond the Wall are not real. So do the direwolves, which are monsters in their own right.

It suggests that, while Jon may have been harboring illusions that his noble uncle Benjen is representative of most of the men in the Night’s Watch, Tyrion is harboring illusions of his own.

Tyrion’s illusions are not simply pertaining to the threats beyond the Wall, but also to the very attitudes and impulses in Tyrion that compelled him to inflate the truth beyond the limits of his knowledge. Tyrion has no first-hand knowledge of what lies beyond the Wall, because he has never been beyond the Wall, so he has less credibility on the matter than characters like Benjen and the deserter, who have both traveled beyond the Wall and attested to the existence of the Others.

So in my new interpretation, I’m left with the faint impression that maybe it’s Tyrion, rather than Jon, who is more profoundly illusioned about the world.

Jon’s illusions will last only as long as it takes him to learn that the shabby and foul-mouthed thieves, rapists and murderers who populate the Night’s Watch are also capable of great feats of loyalty, bravery, valor and honor, recontextualizing even the worst lives that mankind has to offer as redeemable, and recontextualizing the Night’s Watch as the catalyst for that redemption, and therefore as a truly noble calling after all.

The illusion that causes Tyrion, on the other hand, to believe that it’s appropriate to propel other people toward cynicism and nihilism at the earliest opportunity, seems like the kind of illusion that will be more difficult to dispel than Jon’s illusions are. I think that impulse is rooted in a deep-seeded desire in Tyrion to prove to himself, through Jon’s false enlightenment and perhaps his development and life, that life is meaningless, thereby alleviating himself of his own responsibility to embody the hero. Because if life is fundamentally meaningless, then it’s meaningless no matter what you do. And then there’s no reason in particular to do anything other than to seek cheap self-gratification, which is exactly what Tyrion does with his life.

I think one way of thinking about what it means to embody the hero is that it involves a recognition that life is arbitrary, followed by a conscious decision to do everything in one’s power to impart meaning to life anyway. 

Suddenly, absurdly, Tyrion felt guilty. He took a step forward, intending to give the boy a reassuring pat on the shoulder or mutter some word of apology.

Tyrion’s guilt being sudden and absurd evokes the question of its explanation. I think Tyrion’s guilt comes from a perhaps subconscious recognition that there’s something about his message to Jon that misses the mark, and that therefore Tyrion isn’t fulfilling the second part of that description of being a hero.


Benjen Stark seemed to share his brother’s distaste for Lannisters,

I wonder if this is partly a situation where the little brother has adopted the views of his big brother. It’s possible that Ned’s distaste for Lannisters is partly misguided. Jaime later reveals that Aerys intended to burn King’s Landing, and that detail certainly stands in judgement of Ned’s distaste for Jaime. There are other reasons Ned dislikes House Lannister, but the kingslaying is one of them.

Then, since Benjen is the youngest brother, it seems likely that he would have looked up to Ned the way little brothers do. That usually includes adopting the older brother’s views and attitudes, often unchallenged and unexamined. Not that Benjen had any better access to Jaime’s side of the story than Ned did. 


Perhaps he had learned a lesson. The Lannisters never declined, graciously or otherwise. The Lannisters took what was offered.

These are a few peculiar little lines, aren’t they? It’s hard to be sure what prompted them in Tyrion. Perhaps it shows his awareness of the way House Lannister interprets and acts in the world. From an authorial point of view, it seems like these lines stake out the Lannister philosophy. I think it’s useful to examine the competition of characters and their Houses as a landscape of competing philosophies about life and how to behave in it. So the Lannister philosophy includes taking every advantage life offers you, as opposed to foregoing some advantages that could be taken.

It’s a philosophy that is already shown to be different than the Stark philosophy, even at this early stage in the story. For example, Ned Stark was hesitant to allow the kids to keep the direwolf pups, and he considered it carefully and listened to the opinions of people around him before making a decision.

The “learned a lesson” part could mean a few different things. On the surface, it seems like Tyrion is proud of at least this part of his Lannisterness, which would suggest that he agrees with the Lannister philosophy of opportunism.

But in consideration of the fact that Tyrion hates his family, maybe the tone of this line is disdainful of the Lannister philosophy, rather than proud, which would suggest that Tyrion doesn’t agree with the Lannister philosophy of opportunism.

So there’s a question of which tone is mostly at work, here, the prideful one or the disdainful one? And the answer may be demonstrated in Tyrion’s advising of Jon, as well as the guilt he feels after. Because Tyrion’s advising of Jon was an instance of Tyrion acting out the Lannister philosophy of opportunism by seizing the opportunity to proliferate his nihilism by attaching it to some useful lessons like a Trojan horse. I think he agrees with the Lannister philosophy consciously, but his guilt reveals a subconscious disagreement with it. 


As black as onyx, polished smooth, so the bone seemed to shimmer in the light of his torch. They liked the fire, he sensed. He’d thrust the torch into the mouth of one of the larger skulls and made the shadows leap and dance on the wall behind him. The teeth were long, curving knives of black diamond. The flame of the torch was nothing to them; they had bathed in the heat of far greater fires. When he had moved away, Tyrion could have sworn that the beast’s empty eye sockets had watched him go.

As with Viserys and Ned’s personifications of the dragon skulls, Tyrion’s personification has unique implications, too. There’s a strong sense of wonder, awe, and perhaps even longing in Tyrion regarding the skulls. Ned was discomforted by the gaze of the skulls, but Tyrion almost seems to like it. Tyrion’s earlier comment makes it clear why dragons appeal to him.

“Oh, yes. Even a stunted, twisted, ugly little boy can look down over the world when he’s seated on a dragon’s back.”

To Tyrion, a dragon’s back is a place from which to look down over the world, an ultimate way to correct for an inequality that he inherited at birth: His dwarfism. Not one man among the near four thousand men who burned on the Field of Fire would have been any less dead if the riders of Vhagar, Meraxes and Balerion had been dwarves.

It was the only time that Vhaghar, Meraxes, and Balerion were all unleashed at once. The singers called it the Field of Fire.

Near four thousand men had burned that day, among them King Mern of the Reach. King Loren had escaped, and lived long enough to surrender, pledge his fealty to the Targaryens, and beget a son, for which Tyrion was duly grateful.

In other words, if it weren’t for the subjugation of Tyrion’s ancestor King Loren, Aegon’s Conquest would have deprived Tyrion of his very existence. It’s a detail of Tyrion’s heritage that places his obsession with dragons in an ironic and self-destructive light. It suggests that he’s currently on a path that will ultimately end with him stuck at a crossroads, with subjugation on one hand and death on the other. 

References to Aegon’s Conquest throughout the story are accompanied by an air of reverence, both for Aegon himself and for his measured domination of the continent of Westeros.

For a few moments, the chroniclers wrote, the conquest was at an end . . . but only for those few moments, before Aegon Targaryen and his sisters joined the battle.

Aegon’s Conquest is presented by the chroniclers in the form of a narrative that paints Aegon as an underdog who won against the odds. However, an alternative picture of Aegon’s Conquest is hinted in the juxtaposition between Tyrion’s romanticized idea of dragons as symbols of his personal liberation, and the inescapably brutal reality of flesh-and-blood human beings having feebly burned to death in dragonflame by the thousands.

If that picture of Aegon’s Conquest happens to be a more truthful characterization of history than the perhaps romanticized version that the characters and readers are led to believe, then Tyrion’s apparent role in the story as a misunderstood good guy is hinted, here, to be incomplete, with the nature of his ending perhaps hinged upon the question of whether or not he will manage to dispel the illusions that blind him to the terrible alternative picture that the symbols of his personal liberation represent. The feeling I’m left with is that Tyrion’s apparent desire for personal liberation is really disguising a desire for existential revenge.


all that remained of the last two hatchlings born on Dragonstone. They were the last of the Targaryen dragons, perhaps the last dragons anywhere, and they had not lived very long.

Viserys and Dany foreshadowing?


Jon Snow’s albino direwolf pricked up his ears at the nightly howling, but never raised his own voice in reply. There was something very unsettling about that animal, Tyrion thought.

Another reminder that Ghost is a mute.

Ghost’s muteness stands in curious contradiction to the way in which Jon discovered Ghost. Jon discovered Ghost by hearing a noise which was presumably made by Ghost. But none of the other characters seemed to hear the noise. It’s the first and major hint that the direwolves have a psychic connection with the Starks.

What these reminders are saying to the reader is “Hey, there’s a mystery you missed.” Because when I read the direwolf chapter for the first time, I didn’t know that Ghost was a mute. And even after I know it, the noise and Jon hearing it seem easily explainable in mundane terms. Jon simply heard a faint noise that the other characters didn’t. It’s the kind of thing that happens in life once in a while, so it isn’t that strange.

But as the story goes on, the evidence of a psychic connection between direwolves and Starks gradually piles up. The greatest piece of evidence is that Ghost is a mute. If Ghost never ever makes a sound, then what did Jon hear in the first non-prologue chapter of the series? There are dozens of mildly strange situations throughout the story just like that first situation between Jon and Ghost. To name another that I saw in the reread so far, Nymeria acts out Arya’s subconscious desire to stay with Jon when she follows Jon and then turns around realizing that Arya is not following him.

Based on any individual strange event, it would be difficult to make a wholly convincing case that the direwolves have a psychic connection with the Starks. But as the little oddities pile up, the pile becomes so large that the intentions of the story and the author are revealed.

The biggest problem that deniers of the direwolf-Stark psychic connection will encounter in this discussion is that, while they may be able to explain each event individually using a variety of materialistic, non-magic, non-extraordinary reasons, they will corner themselves by shrinking the possible explanations for the pattern that exists across all the events, as well as the pattern that exists across an enormous portion of readers like me, down to one possible explanation.

The pattern that exists across all the events is that, in every event, there is structural and intentional ambiguity written into the event regarding the explanation for how the direwolf knows what it appears to know. IE. If the author didn’t want any ambiguity in the event, he could have written it a different way. He could have written it so that Bran and the other characters heard the noise, too.

The pattern that exists across the readers is that a large portion of the audience interprets the direwolves to clearly have some kind of psychic connection with the Starks. I would estimate no less than half of the audience is in agreement about that.

The singular explanation that the denier is forced to use at that point is that the pattern does not really exist in the story itself. It only exists in your head and the heads of half of the audience. He discredits his interpretation of the story by proving that his interpretation cannot account for the author’s repeated behavior of creating ambiguity around the issue, and cannot account for the match between half or more of the audience’s interpretations without calling them all crazy. 


Created Sep 8, 2021
Updated Sep 22, 2021 – Added Ghost
Updated Sep 24, 2021 – Added Benjen, Lannister

AGOT 12 Eddard II

“No, no, no,” Robert said. His breath steamed with every word. “The camp is full of ears. Besides, I want to ride out and taste this country of yours.” Ser Boros and Ser Meryn waited behind him with a dozen guardsmen, Ned saw.

The chapter starts out with Robert wanting to talk to Ned very privately. Not even Ned’s tent is private enough for whatever it is Robert wants to talk about. Boros and Meryn and a dozen guards are with him, which is kind of funny because it makes me wonder: Why did Robert bring so many people if he wanted to talk privately? The observation suggests that Ned noticed the same contradiction, because we’re in Ned’s POV, and observations are as good as thoughts as long as it’s reasonable to think the POV character understands the implications of what he’s observing.

Considering that the Kingsguard are sworn to protect the king, the situation suggests that the king may have told them to stay behind, or told them that he wants to go alone, but that they followed him anyway. So I think maybe it shows that the king has difficulty getting a private word with anybody.

When I consider that Robert spends most of his time in the Red Keep, which is full of eavesdroppers, political players and secret tunnels, maybe over the years Robert has developed a sense that he can’t be sure when his private words are actually private. So my impression is that Robert has identified this rural environment as a rare opportunity to have a conversation that he can be absolutely sure is private.

By then the guard had fallen back a small distance, safely out of earshot, but still Robert would not slow.

It seems like Robert is really trying to make sure the conversation is private. It’s unclear whether that’s what Robert is actually doing now, or if he’s just overcome with an urge to ride and enjoy nature. But judging by his earlier comment about ears, I think it’s a bit of both.

I also wonder if Robert’s monologue about the joy of riding is partly a performance meant to distract from his behavior — behavior which he’s afraid could appear to Ned to be paranoia. Maybe it alludes to one of the not-so-mad ways that the Mad King became paranoid when he was king, too.

The guard had reined up well behind them, at the bottom of the ridge. “Well, I did not bring you out here to talk of graves or bicker about your bastard. There was a rider in the night, from Lord Varys in King’s Landing. Here.” The king pulled a paper from his belt and handed it to Ned.

Ned still has his eyes on the guard, suggesting that his mind is still on Robert’s secrecy, which keeps the reader’s mind on Robert’s secrecy, too.

So what I’m trying to highlight is that the chapter builds up a context of secrecy and privacy. They ride out to the middle of nowhere, the wind is blowing noisily, Robert is being secretive, Ned and the reader are wondering why, we learn that one of the people in Dany’s retinue is a spy, and we even learn that there’s somebody in the king’s service known as a “master of whisperers”. So the perception being built up in the reader is: Privacy, secrecy, privacy, secrecy. We’re absolutely certain that nobody can hear what Ned and Robert are saying except Ned and Robert.

Then look what happens at the end as the conversation is winding down.

The king threw back his head and roared. His laughter startled a flight of crows from the tall brown grass.

Crows. Maybe this conversation wasn’t as private as it seemed. It’s a bit of comedy and magic that only has a chance of occurring to the reader on a re-read, after I already know that skinchanging is a part of the story.

When I think back to the handful of chapters I’ve read so far in this re-read, I can remember crows in the scene when Jaime pushed Bran from the tower. It’s still early in the story to judge for sure, but so far it seems like the crows have a knack for witnessing and hearing key events and conversations.


“The barrows of the First Men.”

Robert frowned. “Have we ridden onto a graveyard?”

“There are barrows everywhere in the north, Your Grace,” Ned told him. “This land is old.”

I didn’t really know what a barrow was. From context I thought it was a hill, but Robert seems to think it’s a graveyard. It turns out it’s kind of both. Here’s a definition I found.

a large mound of earth or stones over the remains of the dead

I thought it was mildly noteworthy that both of the conversations between Robert and Ned happened at a burial place — first in the Winterfell crypts and now in the barrowlands. I have no ideas for what the significance of that might be. Both characters die by the end of the book, so that’s good enough, I guess. It seems lacking to me, though, and my tendency is to think there’s a better answer that I haven’t found yet.


“Do you remember Ser Jorah Mormont?”

“Would that I might forget him,” Ned said bluntly. The Mormonts of Bear Island were an old house, proud and honorable, but their lands were cold and distant and poor. Ser Jorah had tried to swell the family coffers by selling some poachers to a Tyroshi slaver. As the Mormonts were bannermen to the Starks, his crime had dishonored the north. Ned had made the long journey west to Bear Island, only to find when he arrived that Jorah had taken ship beyond the reach of Ice and the king’s justice. Five years had passed since then.

I was surprised that that happened five years ago. I always assumed it happened more recently. It makes me wonder what Jorah has been doing for those fives years. Apparently he has spent enough time among the Dothraki to earn a trusted place in Khal Drogo’s inner circle. It’s maybe a little strange, considering the Dothraki stigma against wearing armor. They think wearing armor is cowardly. So as beneficial as the armor is in combat, I would’ve expected the stigma to raise the cost of wearing it among the Dothraki high enough to outweigh those benefits. Come to think of it, I think maybe Jorah does wear leather or something, and he only puts on his metal armor when he has a duty to protect someone else. I’m not sure about that but I’ll keep an eye out for what Jorah wears.

Jorah’s presence among the Dothraki is more than a little suspicious, too, considering the Westerosi stigmas against rape and slavery. I don’t think it’s fair to call what the Dothraki do with each other rape or slavery, because there are a lot of meanings in those two words for me that do not actually describe what the Dothraki are doing when they do those things. It would be like saying the horses are raping when the horses mate. But I think those meanings do hold true in the conscience of someone who wasn’t raised in Dothraki culture. It seems like Jorah may have come to live among the Dothraki to fight and fuck his way into an early grave, perhaps having given up on redemption.


“So the slaver has become a spy,” Ned said with distaste. He handed the letter back. “I would rather he become a corpse.”

“Varys tells me that spies are more useful than corpses,” Robert said.

Yeah but if Ned didn’t want Jorah dead, Jorah wouldn’t be a spy, either. Ned wanting Jorah dead was the reason Jorah had to flee.


“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.”

Ned knew better than to defy him when the wrath was on him. If the years had not quenched Robert’s thirst for revenge, no words of his would help.

People tend to divide the world into good and evil, and I think that tendency, both in the characters and in the reader, is the fundamental critique that ASOIAF makes. Robert divides the world into good and evil when it comes to Targaryens. He thinks Targaryens as a collective are evil and nothing can change his mind about that. Getting Robert to look at the Targaryens as individuals, each with a unique perspective that warrants sympathetic consideration, is an impossible feat even for Ned and Jon Arryn.

So I gather that part of my job as the reader is to identify when and where the characters are dividing the world into good people and evil people. That informs me where their blind spots are likely to be, and therefore where I need to search to find what the character is missing. In the case of Rhaegar Targaryen, Robert is missing the glaringly obvious possibility that Lyanna went with Rhaegar willingly.

The act of dividing the world into good vs evil is something I sometimes refer to as moralizing or moralization. It will probably come up again, so this seemed like a good opportunity to explain what I mean by it.


“You can’t get your hands on this one, can you?” he said quietly.

The king’s mouth twisted in a bitter grimace. “No, gods be cursed. Some pox-ridden Pentoshi cheesemonger had her brother and her walled up on his estate with pointyhatted eunuchs all around them, and now he’s handed them over to the Dothraki. I should have had them both killed years ago, when it was easy to get at them, but Jon was as bad as you. More fool I, I listened to him.”

I wonder if Illyrio became aware of Robert’s hired knives lurking around his mance. If he did, maybe Illyrio was trying to protect Dany by marrying her to the Dothraki. She might be safer with the Dothraki than with Illyrio.

It’s so contrary to my initial impression of the Dothraki, but it makes sense in a lot of ways after I’ve taken a close look at Dothraki society. Hardly anybody who isn’t Dothraki themselves can infiltrate Dothraki society. Their existence is too harsh for most people to manage it. Dothraki are also virtually impossible to bribe because of the way their psychology develops in their culture. As khaleesi, Dany will be surrounded by protectors for the rest of her life, because even in the worst case scenarios the khaleesis are protected and escorted to Vaes Dothraki. Once in Vaes Dothrak they’re safe too, because they’re surrounded by the visiting Dothraki, and it’s forbidden to carry a blade in the city.

It may be too favorable a reading of Illyrio, who, according to Dany, profited enough from his part in her marriage that no additional explanation for Illyrio’s motivations is necessary. Still, Illyrio’s motivations are a constant mystery throughout the story, so I think it’s good to be on the lookout for alternate explanations.


“The barbarians have no ships. They hate and fear the open sea.”

Ned is right about that. The Dothraki fear of the sea is strong enough to prevent them from ever sailing for Westeros. If Robert’s decision to send the wine poisoner after Dany can fairly be thought of as Robert trying to prevent the Dothraki from crossing the sea, then Robert trying to prevent the Dothraki from crossing the sea caused them to decide to cross the sea.


Stannis proved himself at the siege of Storm’s End, surely.”

He let the name hang there for a moment. The king frowned and said nothing. He looked uncomfortable.

Why is Robert uncomfortable? This part made me want to know more about Robert and Stannis’s relationship. I remember that Stannis is not well liked by his brothers. Maybe that’s all this is, but it feels like it could be something more.


“The Others take your honor!” Robert swore.

This is the fifth use of “The Others take” curse in the books. I’ll try to remember to make a list of them as I re-read.

It’s a little interesting that this old curse still lingers so long after the Faith of the Seven has replaced the Old Gods religion in most places in Westeros. It’s similar to the common uses of “God” by non-theists in the curses of people in the real world. On one hand, these sayings are simply habits leftover from a time when people were more religious. On the other hand, it’s a paradox that shows the way that the culture into which we’re born can deeply characterize our behaviors, attitudes and values even when we think we’ve chosen different values.

“The Others take his eyes,” he swore. (AGOT 1 Bran I)
—Robb to Jon regarding deserter
“The Others take your mild snows,” Robert swore. (AGOT 4 Eddard I)
—Robert to Ned
“The Others take my wife,” Robert muttered sourly, (AGOT 4 Eddard I)
—Robert to Ned
“The Others take both of you,” Ned muttered darkly. (AGOT 6 Catelyn II)
—Ned to Catelyn and Luwin regarding going south
“The Others take your honor!” Robert swore. (AGOT 12 Eddard II)
—Robert to Ned regarding Lannisters


“The Others take your honor!” Robert swore. “What did any Targaryen ever know of honor? Go down into your crypt and ask Lyanna about the dragon’s honor!”

“You avenged Lyanna at the Trident,” Ned said, halting beside the king. Promise me, Ned, she had whispered.

At the beginning of the chapter there was a good example of the way the context of a situation can help me figure out what a character is thinking.

Ned was thinking about the contradiction between Robert wanting to speak privately and Robert having a bunch of guards with him. It alluded to a hidden story in which the guards may be disobeying the king in order to fulfill their duty to protect him, and perhaps to protect themselves from the repercussions they might likely suffer in the event that some tragedy befalls the king while the guards are absent, regardless of Robert’s wish to be unguarded.

These lines about Lyanna are a good example of the way a character’s thinking can help me figure out the context of a situation.

In isolation, the “promise me” sentence is completely mysterious. There’s no way to get any clues about what the promise was by looking at that one sentence. But in the context of Ned and Robert’s argument, I’m able to get some clues.

Ned is arguing that Jaime shouldn’t be made Warden of the East because the Lannisters are dishonorable because they sacked King’s Landing treacherously. Robert strongly implies that the Targaryens have no honor, citing Rhaegar’s rape and murder of Lyanna as evidence of that. Robert’s point isn’t particularly strong because it’s a two-wrongs-make-a-right argument. Ned wants to rebutt that point as strongly as he can, but the rebuttal Ned gives is weak too, in a way. He says that Robert already avenged Lyanna. It’s weak because it doesn’t contradict Robert’s point that the Targaryens have no honor. The point merely begs Robert to let go of his grudge against Targaryens as a collective, which we and Ned already know is something Robert has never been able to do.

So when Lyanna’s “promise me” line intrudes in Ned’s thoughts, it’s as though Ned is reminding himself to keep the promise. It suggests that the difficulty of keeping the promise has just surged for some reason. In the heat of the argument, that reason might likely be that Ned has a much stronger point he could have made, here, if only he were willing to break his promise to Lyanna.

For example: ‘Actually, Robert… Rhaegar didn’t rape and kill Lyanna. Lyanna chose Rhaegar over you. They had a baby and she died from childbirth.’


“I cannot answer for the gods, Your Grace . . . only for what I found when I rode into the throne room that day,” Ned said. “Aerys was dead on the floor, drowned in his own blood. His dragon skulls stared down from the walls. Lannister’s men were everywhere. Jaime wore the white cloak of the Kingsguard over his golden armor. I can see him still. Even his sword was gilded. He was seated on the Iron Throne, high above his knights, wearing a helm fashioned in the shape of a lion’s head. How he glittered!”

“This is well known,” the king complained.

This is good. I get to compare Ned’s version of the story to Dany’s version of the story from AGOT 3 Daenerys I. Here it is again.

Yet sometimes Dany would picture the way it had been, so often had her brother told her the stories. The midnight flight to Dragonstone, moonlight shimmering on the ship’s black sails. Her brother Rhaegar battling the Usurper in the bloody waters of the Trident and dying for the woman he loved. The sack of King’s Landing by the ones Viserys called the Usurper’s dogs, the lords Lannister and Stark. Princess Elia of Dorne pleading for mercy as Rhaegar’s heir was ripped from her breast and murdered before her eyes. The polished skulls of the last dragons staring down sightlessly from the walls of the throne room while the Kingslayer opened Father’s throat with a golden sword. (AGOT 3 Daenerys I)

Dany presumably heard the story from Viserys, so this is Viserys’s version of the story.

Ned’s version is more reliable in some ways. For example, I was skeptical that Jaime’s sword was golden until I heard it from Ned. Ned is giving a first-hand account of the event, and I’ve seen that Ned is an honest person. Viserys and Dany’s accounts are second- and third-hand accounts, because neither of them were actually there at the time to witness what happened in the throne room.

There were also a bunch of soldiers in the throne room by the time Ned arrived, so that’s probably how certain details of the story travelled, such as Jaime’s sword being golden.

Both versions of the story personify the dragon skulls, describing them as if they’re alive and watching.

The polished skulls of the last dragons staring down sightlessly from the walls of the throne room

“His dragon skulls stared down from the walls.”

“I rode the length of the hall in silence, between the long rows of dragon skulls. It felt as though they were watching me, somehow.”

I wouldn’t have expected that from Ned’s version. I would have guessed that the skulls in Viserys’s version were dramatized because the skulls have more meaning to him as a Targaryen. But Ned is not a Targaryen, yet the personification is present in his version too. So maybe it means Ned is a Targaryen! Just kidding.

Maybe the author is just reusing the personification for no great reason in particular. Then it doesn’t really mean anything. That’s certainly possible. But, to me, it’s the least interesting explanation, and this author does a great job of making his story interesting. So it seems less reasonable to suppose that the similarity means nothing than it does to suppose that it means something more than, say, authorial laziness, descriptive consistency or idle coincidence.

It’s a very specific kind of similarity. Viserys and Ned aren’t merely noting that there were dragon skulls on the walls, they’re both personifying them as if the dragons are watching the murder of King Aerys and what is ultimately the fall of the Targaryen dynasty. Since the dragon is the sigil of House Targaryen, the skulls could be symbolic of dead Targaryen ancestors. I think the personification of the dragon skulls evokes the idea that the Targaryen ancestors are watching and judging.

It breathes life into all kinds of questions, like:

  • What would Targaryen ancestors think of Aerys?
  • What would they think of Jaime killing him?

Each Targaryen ancestor might think differently about those things.

  • Would things have turned out differently if House Targaryen’s dragons were still alive?

One thing that might have turned out differently is the killing of Aerys. But the quality of Aerys’s reign is another thing that might have turned out differently, because dragons would have had a major effect on the outcome of certain events and challenges that Aerys faced. Even Aerys’s development as a child is one of the things that might have turned out differently, because growing up in a family with living dragons would have been different than growing up in a family with dead dragons.

So the personification of the dragon skulls causes my imagination to reach into many other aspects of the story. And if this is what it does to me, then it gives me insight into what is happening in the minds of Viserys and Ned.

Viserys is entertaining thoughts of revenge. He’s probably thinking that the Kingslayer never would have dared to depose a Targaryen king if the dragons were still alive. Viserys may be imagining what harm a dragon could do to the likes of Jaime, Robert, Ned and Tywin.

Ned’s thoughts, on the other hand, are somewhere between ominous and respectful. There’s a sense of superstitious dread regarding the dragon’s judgement of Ned and Jaime below, as Ned walks the entire length of the throne room. And there’s also a sense that Ned has respect for the dynasty that he has helped to overthrow. Ned’s respect is apparent in the fact that Ned included the dragon skulls in his description. It’s a subtle confession of his uneasiness under the stare of the skulls and therefore their power to influence him. After a Targaryen reign that lasted nearly three-hundred years, the gravity of a moment like this would bear heavily on any rebel who has some sense.

Maybe Viserys and Ned’s matching personified descriptions of the dragon skulls are the story’s way of announcing that ASOIAF is a story where two identical observations can have different implications when made by different people.


Created Jun 23, 2021

Dany’s First Dream

This is a deep analytical dive into Dany’s first dream in AGOT 11 Daenerys II that I did during a re-read. As with most things, it is best read after reading the chapter. But rejoice, for there be dragon in it. Enjoy!

Yet that night she dreamt of one. Viserys was hitting her, hurting her. She was naked, clumsy with fear. She ran from him, but her body seemed thick and ungainly. He struck her again. She stumbled and fell. “You woke the dragon,” he screamed as he kicked her. “You woke the dragon, you woke the dragon.” Her thighs were slick with blood. She closed her eyes and whimpered. As if in answer, there was a hideous ripping sound and the crackling of some great fire. When she looked again, Viserys was gone, great columns of flame rose all around, and in the midst of them was the dragon. It turned its great head slowly. When its molten eyes found hers, she woke, shaking and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. She had never been so afraid . . .

I’m a big lover of metaphor and symbolism. I like to abstract what the words mean a lot. But I’ve learned that I tend to get too abstract too fast. Usually I find that a grounded look at the dream or prophecy has more information in it than I found before I became ungrounded in my thinking and began looking for symbolic meanings. I find that the grounded interpretation provides invaluable starting points and guard rails to prevent me from wandering too far into abstract nonsense. So now I try to start as grounded as I can be.

The first question I have is: Are the events in the dream connected? Because maybe they aren’t. Maybe they’re flashes of random images, memories or events that don’t necessarily relate to one another. There’s a pivotal phrase in the dream that actually answers that question for me:

As if in answer,

It ties the second half of the dream to the first half, even if only through suggestion. Dreams are made of suggestion, so suggestion is plenty to go on. The second half is presented as potentially a consequence of the first half. And it inherently creates a mystery. The mystery is: Was the dragon a response to something Dany did? Like closing her eyes and whimpering?

So the parts of the dream are related, and it’s a causal relationship, which suggests that the dream is chronological too, because an effect can only occur after its cause.

So the dream tells a story. It’s a simple story, but I think it provides the overarching framework for how to approach it. The story is roughly: Dany is being abused by Viserys, then a dragon appears and rescues her from Viserys. There’s room to quibble about the details, like maybe the dragon is motivated by hunger rather than rescue, but that’s a good enough starting point. If I get stuck later I can return to this spot and challenge assumptions like that that I’ve made.

Viserys was hitting her, hurting her. She was naked, clumsy with fear. She ran from him, but her body seemed thick and ungainly. He struck her again. She stumbled and fell. “You woke the dragon,” he screamed as he kicked her. “You woke the dragon, you woke the dragon.” Her thighs were slick with blood.

The next question I have is whether or not the first part of the dream is something that really happened. After all, a dream that depicts an event that really happened in Dany’s past would be a dream that’s more grounded in reality and lends itself more to literal interpretation than a dream that depicts an event that didn’t really happen in Dany’s past and lends itself more to symbolic interpretation. So I would like to start with the most literal interpretation to see how it holds up.

When I recall the previous Daenerys chapter, AGOT Daenerys I, I find a line that confirms that the abuse that Viserys is visiting upon Dany in the first half of the dream has already happened in reality.

His anger was a terrible thing when roused. Viserys called it “waking the dragon.” (AGOT Daenerys I)

So as it turns out, I was asking the wrong question. I asked whether or not the first part of the dream is something that really happened, but given as fact that it has really happened already, the question I should ask now is how much sense it makes to suppose that the first half of the dream is not depicting it? It’s the kind of abuse that is so traumatic and memorable that the idea that the dream is not depicting it is revealed to make little or no sense at all.

So the first half of the dream is in fact a real memory — or majorly derived from one — of something that happened to Dany in the past.

There’s one part of it that actually tells me when it happened. And it might even give me a big hint about why it happened.

Her thighs were slick with blood.

Remember, I learned in AGOT Daenerys I that Dany has already “had her blood.”

“She has had her blood. She is old enough for the khal,” Illyrio told him, not for the first time. (AGOT Daenerys I)

So maybe Dany received this attack when she had her blood. And maybe the reason for the attack had something to do with her having her blood.

There are a number of questions that can come out of that, like: Did Viserys not want Dany to have her blood yet? If so, why not? Did Dany say or do something that set him off? What is that likely to be? Then I can look at Viserys’s character and his rampages to see what kind of things actually set him off, to help me make a better guess at what set him off in the past. But I’ll shelve that for now so I can finish the dream.

She was naked, clumsy with fear.

Dany being naked in the dream could mean Dany was actually naked at the time of this attack, or it could be a manifestation of Dany’s feelings of vulnerability from the day/time when she’s having the dream. But the second one is a symbolic interpretation, and I’m trying to stay grounded. So I’ll suppose that Dany is actually naked in the dream and at the time of the attack.

“Clumsy with fear” also seems to track with vulnerability.

She ran from him, but her body seemed thick and ungainly.

“Thick and ungainly” tracks with vulnerability too. She’s trying to run away from Viserys but she’s immobilized by her body. Maybe “having her blood” is what slowed down her body.

He struck her again. She stumbled and fell. “You woke the dragon,” he screamed as he kicked her. “You woke the dragon, you woke the dragon.”

Then Viserys strikes Dany again and she stumbles and falls while he kicks her and screams “You woke the dragon.” More rampage, more vulnerability.

The first half of the dream was pretty easy to understand. I think if I had launched into metaphorical interpretation too quickly, I would have missed the possibility that the first half of it was something that really happened.

Onto the second half!

She closed her eyes and whimpered. As if in answer, there was a hideous ripping sound and the crackling of some great fire. When she looked again, Viserys was gone, great columns of flame rose all around, and in the midst of them was the dragon. It turned its great head slowly. When its molten eyes found hers, she woke, shaking and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. She had never been so afraid . . .

Dany closes her eyes and whimpers, no doubt a response to being kicked and shouted at. I want to point out that each sentence logically follows from the one before it, and that’s how I can tell that the events are all happening in the same scene and chronologically, rather than being random flashes of unrelated or loosely related images. I don’t have any reason in particular to think that Dany closing her eyes and whimpering is not caused by Viserys’s rampage, or that “As if in answer” is not referring to Dany closing her eyes and whimpering.

there was a hideous ripping sound and the crackling of some great fire.

Dany’s eyes are closed now. I’ve seen everywhere else in the story that the story sticks to a POV writing style in which the amount of information that the reader is allowed to perceive is strictly limited to what the POV character can perceive. So when Dany closes her eyes, she loses vision, and so do I. Instead, there are only sounds to go by.

As of this line, there’s nothing I’ve seen yet that could reasonably explain these two sounds. Neither Viserys nor Dany are the sort of things that would make a hideous ripping sound or a fire sound. So the line immediately creates a question of: What the heck is going on out there, beyond Dany’s closed eyes?

When she looked again, Viserys was gone, great columns of flame rose all around, and in the midst of them was the dragon.

Dany opens her eyes, and I see some big clues to help me answer the question. Viserys is gone and there’s a dragon where he was standing, surrounded by great columns of flame that presumably surround Dany, too.

So maybe the hideous ripping sound was the dragon eating Viserys. Maybe it was the dragon’s wings when he flew in. Maybe it was the sound of the dragon magically appearing, as things can do in a dream. Or maybe it was Viserys transforming into a dragon. Those are a few ideas that occur to me.

Considering that Viserys was attacking Dany, I feel safe to assume that Viserys was facing Dany. And since Viserys was facing Dany, I think the dragon is not Viserys, because the dragon had to turn its head to look at Dany.

It turned its great head slowly.

So that strongly suggests that the dragon was not facing her, and so the dragon is not a transformed Viserys. With that possibility ruled out, I can see that the only possibilities remaining that make sense to me are the ones in which the dragon got rid of Viserys. Maybe he squashed him, burned him, or ate him, I don’t know. But Viserys is definitely gone, so is Dany’s problem, and the dragon definitely did it.dragon flying 200

When its molten eyes found hers, she woke, shaking and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. She had never been so afraid . . .

The dragon looks Dany in the eyes, and then she wakes up. Here I learn that the dragon’s eyes are molten. His molten eyes and great head are the only identifying characteristics I get to see. Since there are only a few known living dragons in the story, as of ADWD, that’s plenty of information for me to narrow down the possibilities.

  • Viserion: When Dany passed his eyes came open, two pools of molten gold. (ADWD Daenerys I)
  • Drogon: His scales were black, his eyes and horns and spinal plates blood red. (ADWD Daenerys IX)
  • Drogon: His eyes were molten. I am looking into hell, but I dare not look away. (ADWD Daenerys IX)
  • Drogon: In the smoldering red pits of Drogon’s eyes, Dany saw her own reflection. (ADWD Daenerys IX)

Two of Dany’s dragons have eyes that are described as molten. Since the dream doesn’t say gold, and since Drogon is Dany’s main dragon and largest dragon, I think the dragon in the dream is most likely Drogon.

As an aside, that gives me an idea of how long this story is willing to withhold some of its secrets. The color of Drogon’s eyes aren’t given until ADWD, that I could find. So if the dragon is Drogon, the identity of a dream dragon in the first book is held in ambiguity until the fifth book.

she woke, shaking and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. She had never been so afraid . . .

When Dany woke she was shaking, sweaty and she had never been so afraid. It doesn’t seem like part of the dream, but since dreams are made of suggestion I think it’s fair to say that the way she feels in the dream is part of the dream. And when the way she feels immediately after the dream matches with the way she felt in the dream, it’s fair to say that is a product of the dream and therefore part of the dream, too, at least for my purpose of trying to understand it.

Phew. So that is the most grounded version of my interpretation of Dany’s dream. So far, I haven’t tried to explore symbolic meanings of the dragon, of Viserys, of the blood or anything. The dragon is very much a dragon, not three dragons or a symbolic representation of power or anything like that. Viserys is very much Viserys, not Drogo.

But when I look at the dream in the context of the chapter, I can see why I would tend to want to interpret the dream in the context of Dany’s marriage to Drogo. The marriage is the premiere event of the chapter. It’s certainly where Dany’s fear is placed in the chapter. Look what the story is doing immediately after the dream.

She had never been so afraid . . .

. . . until the day of her wedding came at last.

The ceremony began at dawn (…)

The story deliberately pulls my attention back to the wedding before I’ve had time to give the dream due attention in the context of Viserys’s actual death and the greater story.

Our author is a sly man, indeed. But don’t let me jump the gun. I’m not finished with this dream yet!

Using the powers bestowed upon me by Daenerys V, I can see that this dream foreshadows a whole lot about Viserys’s death. Viserys wasn’t killed by Drogon, but he did die, and that’s significant enough to call this dream foreshadowing of it. What catches my attention the most is how Dany’s role in the dream mirrors her role in Viserys’s death.

In both situations, there’s an impenetrable layer of ambiguity regarding the question of Dany’s involvement with Viserys’s death. In the dream, the ambiguity is created with the phrase “As if in answer.” At least a few questions come out of that, like: Did Dany somehow summon the dragon? Did she want it to kill Viserys? How does she feel about it afterwards?

At Viserys’s execution, the ambiguity is created in a number of ways, and the same questions are present.

  • Did Dany somehow summon Drogo? — Dany translated Viserys’s damning insults and threats from the common tongue to the Dothraki tongue for Drogo, and the reader is left in the dark about whether or not Dany used the opportunity to try to save Viserys’s life, or at least earn him a less painful execution, by softening or changing Viserys’s words through the translation.
  • Did Dany want Drogo to kill Viserys? — Another layer of ambiguity is the question of to what extent, if any, a khaleesi is culpable when her khal executes her brother.
  • How does Dany feel about it afterwards? — And another layer of ambiguity is the question of why Dany insisted on watching the execution when Jorah advised her to look away.

He was no dragon, Dany thought, curiously calm. Fire cannot kill a dragon. (AGOT Daenerys V)

So what the dream and Viserys’s execution have in common is ambiguity surrounding Dany’s involvement in Viserys’s death. That ambiguity may very well be another thing that the dream foreshadows.

When I look at Viserys’s death in Daenerys V, an obvious symbolism grabs my attention. Drogo is the person who killed Viserys, and Drogon is named for Drogo. So that seems to retroactively confirm that the identity of the dragon is Drogon.

Taking a step back, my initial tendency, based on the context of the chapter, was to see Viserys in the dream as a symbolic representation of Drogo, because Dany is afraid of marrying Drogo, and Dany is afraid of Viserys, so the most obvious relationship between Drogo and Viserys is that Dany is afraid of both of them. But when I consider the dream in context of a greater portion of the story, it turns out that the dragon is a symbolic Drogo, and that Drogo plays a more protective role in the dream than a threatening one.

This is one of countless expressions of the Good and Evil theme that I’ve stumbled across in my journeys analyzing this story . It was my prejudgement that “Drogo is a scary bad guy” that blinded me to the possibility that “Drogo is a protective good guy” in the dream.

Looking back on the whole investigation, I can see the way that my revelation with the dream mirrors my revelation with this chapter. Drogo is built up in Dany’s thoughts as a scary figure who might hurt her.

“I am the blood of the dragon,” she whispered aloud as she followed, trying to keep her courage up.

I’m instilled with a sense of dread for the consummation of the marriage, because Dany is understandably afraid of it throughout the chapter and leading up to it.

“No?” he said, and she knew it was a question.

When Drogo asks the question, it shows that Drogo cares about Dany’s feelings and respects her freedom to refuse him if she wants to.

Dany recognized it as a question and therefore as respect for her feelings, driving home the loudest implication of the whole sex scene from beginning to end: “You and Dany were wrong about Drogo!” Drogo’s every Dothraki word and touch stands in contradiction to Dany’s and the reader’s expectations of him.

She took his hand and moved it down to the wetness between her thighs. “Yes,” she whispered as she put his finger inside her.

And that’s why Dany became comfortable enough with Drogo to become aroused and consent to sex in unmistakable terms. The lesson of the chapter is “You and Dany were wrong about Drogo.” The lesson of the dream is the very same one. I think it’s a good example of the way the story conceals its bigger mysteries, such as those found in the symbolic images of dreams and prophecies, by hiding them in the fog created by the reader’s unchallenged perceptions.

Another thing I notice is that my adherence to a grounded interpretation was, in the end, rewarded with some pretty awesome and resilient symbolism. (Dragon=Drogo) I think that’s a pattern in the story too. The story seems to reward the reader for walking a middle path between taking things too symbolically and taking things too literally.

That’s all I have for now. Thanks for reading!


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Created Jun 15, 2021
Updated Dec 1, 2021 – Clarified some parts

AGOT 11 Daenerys II

for the Dothraki believed that all things of importance in a man’s life must be done beneath the open sky.

The story communicates so much about the Dothraki with just one line. Dothraki place a lot of value in their traditional beliefs, ceremonies, manhood, and they like the outdoors. They also may worship the sky, or a god in the sky, or maybe there’s more to it. Since light comes from the sun, moon and stars, a roof would block out the light. So maybe it has something to do with a relationship between light and truth. Being able to see everything clearly would be a good idea during the most important moments of my life. I don’t know if that’s right, but I’m intrigued by different cultures. It’s fun to try to figure out why groups can develop such different belief systems.


“Best we get Princess Daenerys wedded quickly before they hand half the wealth of Pentos away to sellswords and bravos,” Ser Jorah Mormont jested. (…)

Magister Illyrio laughed lightly through his forked beard, but Viserys did not so much as smile. “He can have her tomorrow, if he likes,” her brother said. He glanced over at Dany, and she lowered her eyes. “So long as he pays the price.”

In my strained attempts to see things from Viserys’s point of view in a sympathetic way, I was thinking…

Viserys takes on the attitude that he doesn’t care about Dany or what happens to her. But the attitude is so extreme that it seems absurd, unnaturally so. The “and their horses too” line is the pinnacle of that. Now that I re-read the part above, it seems like Viserys’s I-don’t-care-about-her attitude is actually a way that Viserys is trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care about her, as a way to cope with losing her.

Viserys grew up with the expectation that Dany was going to be his wife. He has been taking care of Dany since he was eight years old, taking her along with him everywhere he goes, making sure she’s taken care of, teaching her about their family history and so on. He started to blame Dany for his mother’s death, and he became abusive toward her. Implicit in the abuse is a lie that his problems are Dany’s fault. So that’s a really old lie that Viserys has been acting out for a long time. He scapegoated her. But now that he’s facing the actuality of losing her, his genuine feelings for Dany are at odds with his self-delusional narrative that she’s the problem. So the strength of Viserys’s insistence that he doesn’t care about Dany is proportionate to the strength with which his deep seeded love for Dany is flaring up at the prospect of losing her to Drogo. He’s losing her as a sibling companion, a wife, and a scapegoat. 

Considering that, it’s no wonder why Viserys is so offended that he has to wait to be “paid” for her. He didn’t realize how much he valued what he had until he already agreed to losing her.


I analyzed Dany’s dream, but the analysis got kind of long and took on a life of its own, so I put it on its own page here: Dany’s First Dream 


I’m trying to track the way chapters shape and control the reader’s perceptions, so this is a list of lines that do that. They drive a sense of dread for the marriage and consummation. It’s a perception that’s built up constantly throughout the chapter, and then subverted at the end when Drogo’s gentleness, patience and respect stand in criticism of ours and Dany’s expectations of him.

  • Daenerys Targaryen wed Khal Drogo with fear and barbaric splendor (…)
  • (…) Illyrio said. “He will have the girl first, (…)
  • She had never been so afraid . . .
    . . . until the day of her wedding came at last.
  • She did her best to hide them, knowing how angry Viserys would be if he saw her crying, terrified of how Khal Drogo might react.
  • I am blood of the dragon, she told herself. I am Daenerys Stormborn, Princess of Dragonstone, of the blood and seed of Aegon the Conqueror.
  • Drogo watched without expression, but his eyes followed their movements, and from time to time he would toss down a bronze medallion for the women to fight over.
  • (…) pushed her down to the ground, and mounted her right there, as a stallion mounts a mare.
  • (…) the winner took hold of the nearest woman— not even the one they had been quarreling over—and had her there and then.
  • As the hours passed, the terror grew in Dany, (…)
  • She was afraid of the Dothraki, whose ways seemed alien and monstrous, as if they were beasts in human skins and not true men at all. 
  • Most of all, she was afraid of what would happen tonight under the stars, when her brother gave her up to the hulking giant who sat drinking beside her with a face as still and cruel as a bronze mask.
  • I am the blood of the dragon, she told herself again.
  • And after the gifts, she knew, after the sun had gone down, it would be time for the first ride and the consummation of her marriage. Dany tried to put the thought aside, but it would not leave her. She hugged herself to try to keep from shaking.
  • He lifted her up as easily as if she were a child and set her on the thin Dothraki saddle, (…)
  • “Please him, sweet sister, or I swear, you will see the dragon wake as it has never woken before.”
  • The fear came back to her then, with her brother’s words. She felt like a child once more, only thirteen and all alone, not ready for what was about to happen to her.
  • “I am the blood of the dragon,” she whispered aloud as she followed, trying to keep her courage up. “I am the blood of the dragon. I am the blood of the dragon.” The dragon was never afraid.
  • She felt as fragile as glass in his hands, her limbs as weak as water. She stood there helpless and trembling in her wedding silks while he secured the horses, and when he turned to look at her, she began to cry.

I have a lot to say about Dany’s three weapon bride gifts, but it seems I have already said it! It can be found in Dothraki Superstition: Bride Gifts. 


And for the first time in hours, she forgot to be afraid. Or perhaps it was for the first time ever.

Great line. Among other things, I think it’s a clue that Dany’s fear is chronic, being derived from her life with her brother, and therefore somewhat unreliable.


I have a pretty strong Dany bias, and it has taken me a long time to get to a point where I can look at her character with as critical an eye as I can with other characters. So what I’m trying to do in this re-read is to make a concerted effort to disconfirm that bias. I’m deliberately trying to see things through lenses that are critical of Dany. It’s a difficult thing for me to manage, but I gather that the story challenges the reader to do it, in order to find a more complete picture of the story.

So that’s why I’m not spending much time looking at Dany through a sympathetic lens. I’m already very sympathetic to her. In fact, not many types of characters or people are more sympathetic to me than a young girl. There’s a protective feature in me and in most men (that some people are all too eager to conflate with sexual motivations.) But I think my greater sympathies for females, young people, and young females are part of the reason why my favorite characters tend to be young girls: Arya and Dany. Even Sansa has grown on me in this re-read. Another reason is common interest and personality. Dany and Sansa are very interested in stories, Arya is very interested in people, and I’m very interested in stories and people. 

One problem with making criticism primary in my approach to something is that it inevitably causes me to overshoot the target. I’ll tend to veer into too-critical interpretation, overcompensating for my bias.

So I haven’t actually solved the bias problem by trying to disconfirm my Dany bias. All I’ve done is adopt a new bias. But that’s the only way to do it, because that’s how the human mind works. It’s really good at championing one idea and trying to make everything else fit into it.

Because of that, I fully expect my criticisms of Dany to go a little too far once in a while, because there’s no other way to do it. If I allow my sympathetic eye to interfere with my critical eye then I’ll sabotage my ability to see the most substantial of the critical interpretations that I haven’t seen yet. 

So the best, truest and most complete interpretations live at the midpoint between those two biases. After I’ve allowed both the sympathetic eye and the critical eye to have their turn, then I still have to weigh the two interpretations against each other, negotiate the differences to figure out what it is, exactly, that I really think about the character or the situation. Doing that properly becomes less impossible only gradually over the days, months and years that pass as the critical or sympathetic attitude’s possession over me subsides. This is definitely a kind of story where the reader’s interpretation is meant to evolve and mature along with him. 

In Dany’s first chapter, I did a little bit of testing of the idea that Dany is ungrateful for the marriage. I went through the chapter and gathered up lists of all the gifts she received as a consequence of the betrothal, and all the slaves and servants who served her in some way. So I’m going to make the same kind of lists for this chapter. Dany’s gifts, treasures, servants and slaves could stand in criticism of her fear, attitudes and faulty assumptions about the wedding, Drogo, the Dothraki people and things like that, both in the past and in the future. I predict that I’ll be glad to have these lists for future reference.

Three handmaids: Irri, Jhiqui, Doreah
Small stack of books: Westerosi histories and songs
Great cedar chest bound in bronze
Piles of the finest velvets and damasks the Free Cities could produce
Three petrified dragon eggs
Slippers
Jewels
Silver rings for her hair
Medallion belts
Painted vests
Soft furs
Sandsilks
Jars of scent
Needles and feathers and tiny bottles of purple glass
A gown made from the skin of a thousand mice
A prized horse: Silver

Noteworthy quotes:

The gifts mounted up around her in great piles, more gifts than she could possibly imagine, more gifts than she could want or use.

When he returned, the dense press of Dothraki giftgivers parted before him, and he led the horse to her.

Food was brought to her, steaming joints of meat and thick black sausages and (…)


Created Jun 14, 2021
Updated Jun 15, 2021 – Small clarifications and expansions, moved Dany’s dream
Updated Jun 19, 2021 – Expanded

AGOT 9 Tyrion I

Here was something about Sansa and Joffrey that was neat.

“Send a dog to kill a dog!” he exclaimed.

“Winterfell is so infested with wolves, the Starks would never miss one.”

Tyrion hopped off the last step onto the yard. “I beg to differ, nephew,” he said. “The Starks can count past six. Unlike some princes I might name.”

Joffrey had the grace at least to blush. (AGOT 9 Tyrion I)

In passing, the line can be read as though Tyrion is making a baseless insult simply to hurt Joffrey’s feelings.

But upon further consideration, Tyrion is shown to be a witty character, and a baseless insult would not be very witty at all. Additionally, Joffrey is shown to be haughty and egotistical, which do not seem like characteristics of somebody who can be made to blush with a baseless insult. So the initial ‘baseless insult’ interpretation is not holding up to scrutiny.

The reader has just enough information to figure out that the baseless-insult interpretation actually makes less sense than if there exists some missing background information about Joffrey and Tyrion, in which Joffrey has shown himself to be incompetent with numbers, and Tyrion has noticed it. Over the years, an uncle might have overheard his nephew during lessons, from time to time, or heard reports from the Maesters who instruct Joffrey, or noticed the young prince’s ineptitude at counting during his day-to-day interactions with him.

So, hidden behind my initial interpretation, there was a more complex and colorful interpretation that makes more sense than my first one. It evoked my imagination, causing it to fill out the missing information with scenes and stories that give A Song of Ice and Fire depth and life. And it emerged out of mere suggestion — the subtle clues in the characters’ choices of words, their reactions, personalities and attitudes.

But there’s still more to see.

It hurt that the one thing Arya could do better than her sister was ride a horse. Well, that and manage a household. Sansa had never had much of a head for figures. If she did marry Prince Joff, Arya hoped for his sake that he had a good steward. (AGOT 7 Arya I)

Two chapters earlier, I learned from Arya that Sansa is not very good with numbers. Her thoughts draw attention to the potential for a minor comical tragedy if Joffrey is bad with numbers, too, because Sansa is supposed to marry Joffrey, and a household headed by two people who are bad with numbers might be in a lot of trouble. Hopefully they would have an honest and mathematically inclined steward around to do the numbers for them.

So the revelation that Joffrey is, in fact, bad with numbers is something funny for the reader to find. More than comedy, however, it might also be understood as foreshadowing that Joffrey will be a bad match for Sansa.

And of course, as you’ll already know from having read the story before, Joffrey turns out to be a horrible person who enjoys tormenting Sansa. Thus, the potential foreshadowing gets imbued with consequence, and we get to call it actual foreshadowing.

So, which interpretation did you like better? The one where Tyrion was making a baseless insult? Or the one that challenged us to interrogate the story, evoked our imaginations, created a funny irony in Joffrey and Sansa’s betrothal, and foreshadowed future events?

The degree to which the interpretation stimulates me, awes me, grows tendrils that reach into, enrich and illuminate other parts of the story is the strongest evidence that can exist that the interpretation is more correct than others.

That’s a fact about stories that is unbelievably difficult to teach to people who do not automatically understand it.

And that’s a difference between people that the story draws attention to all the time. I’ve taken to calling it the Story theme, though I haven’t worked out how to explain it very well yet. I guess this was practice.

The sellsword grew more serious. “There’s a moneylender from Braavos, holding fancy papers and the like, requests to see the king about payment on some loan.”

“As if Joff could count past twenty. Send the man to Littlefinger, he’ll find a way to put him off.” (ACOK Tyrion IV)

I found this quote in ACOK. I wonder if there’s some hidden greater significance to Joffrey’s ineptitude with numbers that I haven’t noticed yet…


The queen shuddered. “There is something unnatural about those animals,” she said. “They are dangerous. I will not have any of them coming south with us.”

Jaime said, “You’ll have a hard time stopping them, sister. They follow those girls everywhere.”

In light of future events, it seems like Cersei did actually manage to stop the direwolves coming south, in various ways. She definitely played a big role in stopping Summer, Lady and Nymeria from coming south. It doesn’t lead me anywhere, but it’s a neat bit of dramatic irony when a character says something early on that seems insignificant or unlikely, and then I don’t realize that it came true until I reread the story with the middle and end in mind. Same thing happened with Viserys’s comment in AGOT Daenerys I when he said Dany would learn to like Drogo in time.

But I should point out that I don’t take it as an indication that ‘The bad guys win in ASOIAF,’ as many readers seem to do. Nor as ‘The bad guys are really the good guys.’ They can be, but being right about something doesn’t necessarily mean they’re good, either. I take it as ‘The bad guys don’t have to be wrong about everything in ASOIAF.’ Sometimes they can be more right than the ‘good guys.’ And often the thing they’re right about goes overlooked by the good guy and the reader, specifically because I’m wearing blinders of one kind or another. And in many cases, the blinders are that I have prematurely decided that this is a good guy and that is a bad guy. George R.R. Martin is using his knowledge of us and our expectations about stories to surprise us, teach us, and also to explore the dilemmas in the story himself.


“The prince will remember that, little lord,” the Hound warned him. The helm turned his laugh into a hollow rumble.

“I pray he does,” Tyrion Lannister replied. “If he forgets, be a good dog and remind him.” (AGOT Tyrion I)

This is a great example of one of the ways Power Corrupts powerful people. Sandor points out that Tyrion is taking a big risk by slapping Joffrey. The implication is that one day Joffrey will be king, and he will remember how Tyrion treated him and then make Tyrion’s life a living hell in retaliation for it. Tyrion doesn’t seem very worried about it, which might be a little foolish considering how poorly behaved Joffrey is, but I think it’s more brave and wise than foolish.

The problems that the noble family invites upon themselves and all of Westeros by neglecting to discipline their future kings easily outstrips whatever Joffrey might do to Tyrion when he becomes king. Royal children being deprived of the harsher teachings they need in order to develop into strong people is a kind of corruption that occurs most severely in this environment of power.

I compare it to my own family or to the commoner families in Westeros, where children are not given authority over adults. I imagine how I would have acted as a kid if I had authority over adults who were too afraid to tell me no or punish me when I did something wrong. It would have utterly ruined the development of child and teenage me. The prince’s power and future power is what causes the adults around him to be too afraid to discipline him so that he can develop into the kind of person he, his family and the kingdom need him to be. 

It seems to me that the story is trying to expand and sophisticate our understanding of the corruption when we say that power “corrupts.” I often hear corruption discussed as though there’s some threshold of evilness that the ruler crosses by committing one atrocious deed or another, at which point he suddenly transitions from non-corrupt to corrupt. It’s a binary and simplistic view of corruption that squashes discussion of the wide array of nuanced and covert ways that power ruins the lives of powerful people. It’s a process that happens incrementally over time, usually beginning with the way the person is raised and the environment he was raised in. It is often produced by the beliefs and practices that are widely accepted in environments of power, taken for granted as normal and appropriate, such as giving royal children power over adults. 

 


Created Jun 9, 2021
Update Sep 11, 2022 – Bad with numbers, Tyrion ACOK