Prince Mud: The Quentyn Martell Reread Project

[Raving Stark the Mad]

This reminded me of HP and the Goblet of Fire, book that is mostly about first discovering girls and love, as Harry has his first crush. He mentions he would rather face another dragon than actually invite one out to date. Of course, Harry here has 14 years old and not 18.

I have to wonder if Quentyn trying to steal a dragon also means the fact he actually rather returns to Dorne with a dragon instead of a woman because he's more terrified of marrying such woman that his sister and cousins will meet than the Dragon... in the level of scary things vaginas > dragons.

I think you are probably right. I have to admit there was a point in my life that I felt more confident facing a machine gun nest than facing the prospect of propositioning a woman. Machine gun nests were easy, you just need the right tools and the right know-how. I had that, but I hadn't yet gathered the necessary know how on approaching women. But I think the one thing he feared most of all was failure. As you mentioned, his survivors guilt and self esteem is so wrapped up in doing his "duty" that he preferred such risk to failure.

That was Quentyn's main fault here. He wanted to ACT NOW. After you fail, and that's something we adults have learned through many years of failing, you need to retreat and regroup. And then, "attack" again. Retreat is not wrong. It's a valid acceptable manouvre. We have a saying here: "Más vale aquí corrió que aquí murió". Better saying he escaped here than he died here.

Fabian tactics take a special kind of individual. Generals like Wart Nose, Washington, and Kutuzov are rare. The equivalent english idiom is "he who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day", supposedly originating from the sayings of Demosthenes after fleeing from the field of Chaeronea.

I think it's more than that. I think that Quentyn and Arianne, and pretty much every other Martell and average Dornish has grown up believing Dorne is special because the Dragons never got them by conquest.

Dornish exceptionalism? I admit the Dornish are known for their pride and stubbornness. Yet, we all basically agree that not every Dornishman or Martell would attempt a suicide mission. The question is what makes Quent the exception among the Martells and the Dornish. I don't think he's a huge exception, but he is different than his sister, uncle, and father.

How curious their first letters are Q and A. Quentyn questions and ponders like his father, while Arianne is more likely to act and answer immediately.

That's an interesting catch.

[Raving Stark the Mad]

So, I want to examine this idea that Quentyn misinterprets "fire and blood," and the question of whether Dany herself is the prize. I guess I'm not so sure that Quentyn is wrong to follow the logic that he does. After his initial interview with Dany, it's quite clear that straightforward wooing is no longer an option. And on the night of Dany's pre-wedding feast, Quent takes in a lot of information that seems to cause him to re-vision his entire understanding of his mission. I think his visit with Dany to the pit is his point of entry into the Targaryen mythos.

I think that Dany shows that she understands the goals of the Martells, and their hoped methodology, than Quentyn does. I believe that Dany has come to the conclusion that what the Martells really want is vengeance/justice, and their method of achieving this vengeance is war. Dany, the Targaryens, the Dragons, all of it.....they are means to an end. The end is the death of the people who have wronged the Martells. Dany understands this. She has to have asked herself, "why the Martells"? "Why did they make this pact"? "Why me, why now"? The answers to all these things are war and vengeance. When Dany says "I know what you want... Fire and Blood", she is talking about vengeance and death to the enemies of the Martells through war. Having an alliance with the Targaryens is simply a legal justification and an ally.

I think what Dany was trying to get across to Quentyn was "Hey look, I may not be marrying you, but you Martells may still get everything you want except a Martell as consort". The whole test with the dragons was simply a means of testing Quentyn to see if he was marriage/partner material, seeing how she was alluding to either polygamy or a dragon rider slot.

Quentyn missed everything! Dany is what is important and the army, not the damn lizards. Dany is what gives the entire rebellion a certain legitimacy. As long as Doran Martell can point to Dany and say "hey, look, I have the TRUE heir of the IT", he's going to draw disgruntled lords and Targ loyalists from across the seven kingdoms. Without Dany, it's simply a Dornish rebellion or move for the IT. What Dany is trying to get across is that they can still get all of that without a marriage.

[JonCon's Red Beard]

So, I want to examine this idea that Quentyn misinterprets "fire and blood," and the question of whether Dany herself is the prize. I guess I'm not so sure that Quentyn is wrong to follow the logic that he does. After his initial interview with Dany, it's quite clear that straightforward wooing is no longer an option. And on the night of Dany's pre-wedding feast, Quent takes in a lot of information that seems to cause him to re-vision his entire understanding of his mission. I think his visit with Dany to the pit is his point of entry into the Targaryen mythos.

Dany is the one who verbalizes that it is not her that has brought him to Meereen, that he has come for fire and blood. Now, we've heard Doran use these words, and I completely agree with Chebyshov's interpretation of what Doran means by those words. But Doran's Targaryens did not have dragons, there is a symbolic power associated with the Targaryens, but Doran has been playing a game in which magic isn't on the table. Maybe he shared his thoughts with Quentyn, maybe he didn't (Quent certainly gives us no insight into any conversations they might have had). But for Doran, it's all a straightforward political game, may the most cunning, long-sighted, strategically-brilliant player win. Yes, Quent, bring us back our heart's desire: an alliance with a now-powerful Targaryen, we'll show those Lannisters. [Hah, and Doran probably just gave him some cryptic fire and blood speech anyway, and sent him on his way.]

Quentyn missed everything! Dany is what is important and the army, not the damn lizards. Dany is what gives the entire rebellion a certain legitimacy. As long as Doran Martell can point to Dany and say "hey, look, I have the TRUE heir of the IT", he's going to draw disgruntled lords and Targ loyalists from across the seven kingdoms. Without Dany, it's simply a Dornish rebellion or move for the IT. What Dany is trying to get across is that they can still get all of that without a marriage.

There is a moment in which Victarion doubts if all of those tales about Dany and her dragons are in fact true. Doran, being the smart man that he is, might have considered the same, because being realistic, there was a high chance it was not true. So, let's say that having Dany, as he hoped to get Viserys, was the objective. The dragons were the bonus.

I also agree that "Fire and Blood" has an important meaning, but it's pretty ambiguous. Putting the division of the books and the timeline of the Martell chapters aside, the first time we hear about it is during Doran and Arianne meeting and discussing Dorne. We find out that Doran had been plotting forever to destroy the Lannisters. He wants Fire and Blood literally and figuratively. Literally because he probably wants to restore everything in order as it should have been and put a Targaryen on the throne with a Martell next to him/her. Remember that, during this time in history, the Martells are very much Targaryens as well, as they descend from a Targ Princess as much as they descend from Nymeria. And the current Targaryens heirs (as did Rhaegar) also have Martell blood. So, while Westeros looks up to the Targaryens, they look at them to the eyes. And second, he wants to bring the fire and blood that only a revengeful Targaryen can bring. Because he knows that his own pain is also the Targaryens: the Lannisters killed Rhaegar's babies, so, they have that goal in common and the same need to payback.

But for that he needs a Targaryen. Because a Targaryen means what the current throne fears the most: a restoration. Remember as well that Robert was still called an "Usurper". Who knows how many Targaryen loyalists Doran knows. After all, Rhaegar's "rebellion" was being planned in Dorne probably (ToJ) and had Arthur as one of the conspirators. If it was indeed the case of Rhaegar counting with Doran to back him up to take the throne from Aerys, maybe Doran knows who was also involved and, he's hoping to call them back in name of Rhaegar's sister to remove Robert.

Now, was Quent the guy to enter the magical story? Maybe not, we're certainly told that he doesn't seem to be the Frog Prince. But I happen to think that he grasped the magical logic, and understood that if the "easy" route of gaining "fire and blood" by marrying Dany was closed to him, then he'd have to grasp the fire and blood himself.

The answer to the first question is not. That's something I've been analyising for my Dany/Cersei parallel. In this specific story (ASOIAF) we have two different lines: the political arc, and the magic. And we know something: the game of thrones is a distraction. It's the magic the one that, at some point, will prevail, and not every character will be able to deal with it. Cersei couldn't deal with the magic, as proven by how her life has been fucked up by only having a small fortune about her future being told. Because having your fortune being told via prophecies is the path of a hero, not an ordinary person. That's something that book 5 tries to introduces too: not everybody is meant to dance with dragons.

I think you are probably right. I have to admit there was a point in my life that I felt more confident facing a machine gun nest than facing the prospect of propositioning a woman. Machine gun nests were easy, you just need the right tools and the right know-how. I had that, but I hadn't yet gathered the necessary know how on approaching women. But I think the one thing he feared most of all was failure. As you mentioned, his survivors guilt and self esteem is so wrapped up in doing his "duty" that he preferred such risk to failure.

I think it's a more specific fear of failure. It's a failure as a man that he's fearing he'll have to deal with when he returns home. And maybe that's why he's clinging to Dany's answer of "your hopes are not done". He NEEDS to believe that he has caused an impression. But he doesn't actually want it to. No one wants to be rejected, but at the same time, and in his case of being a virgin, he doesn't really know how to act about any kind of attraction.

Dornish exceptionalism? I admit the Dornish are known for their pride and stubbornness. Yet, we all basically agree that not every Dornishman or Martell would attempt a suicide mission. The question is what makes Quent the exception among the Martells and the Dornish. I don't think he's a huge exception, but he is different than his sister, uncle, and father.

Well, it's his own personality what makes him different. It's like when people say Ashara slept with X guys because she was Dornish or septa Lemore is her because she baths in public like Dornish would do. Arthur Dayne was also Dornish and he was very much also celibate. And Lewyn was not.

I think what Dany was trying to get across to Quentyn was "Hey look, I may not be marrying you, but you Martells may still get everything you want except a Martell as consort". The whole test with the dragons was simply a means of testing Quentyn to see if he was marriage/partner material, seeing how she was alluding to either polygamy or a dragon rider slot.

It was Jorah who introduced the idea of Dany having two dragonriders as husbands. Or that her husbands should be dragonriders. I think this is something that Dany NEEDS to do at some point, having a consort that can deal with the dragons, something Hizdhar is unable to do (and what was proven when he asked to kill them during the pit fight). But sadly, it's more likely that Jorah ends up riding a dragon than Quentyn (he doesnt' freak out when they're around).

As I said above, the trope of the knight proving his love for a lady by doing some heroic action is not strange to romantic/fantastic fiction. Look at this scene during The Last Unicorn. Lir is desperate to get Amaltea's affection that he went and killed a dragon to impress her, not knowing that Amaltea is in fact a magical creature as well. Dany is not a "magical" creature per se, but she's magical, and the dragons are her children. Her test was to being able to bond with them and he failed. That's kind of a clever subversion by George. He needed to friend the monsters, not kill them.

[Summer Is Coming!]

But something that I would like to point out is that, while Quentyn and Doran are compared often, Doran was able to make QUITE the impression in Mellario, a foreigner who had no reasons to know he was a Prince. Doran was maybe also "mud" be he was in red, gold and orange, which are not only Martell colours, they are TARGARYEN colours as well. Those were the colours Rhaegar, hottest guy ever, used in his helmet. Also did Aerion in his own sigil.

One difference between the Doran and Mellario vs. Quentyn and Dany is that Dany has grown up hearing Viserys repeat tales of Westeros, of the Targaryen mystique, of betrayal and rebellion. She has an entire schema developed for what Westeros is. Although her understanding has changed from interactions with Barristan and Jorah, Quentyn has to be measured against at least some of the tales of Viserys and even Barristan and Jorah. Doran had to measure against whatever idea Mellario had of Westeros, and her expectations were surely very different from Dany's.

Quentyn is one of the three suitors of Dany in Dance, and this is something I mentioned in previous posts. He's the worst of her suitors because, while he's the only one who has interacted with her (so far) she doesn't get Dany. Many say that Doran failed on sending Quentyn to Dany, but the true is that Doran probably never expected her to be a conquering Queen but a fearful child with three small lizards. I think Quentyn was enough for that: "Oh, sweet Dany. I have ships and Dorne to your service!". ACOK DAny would have jumped into Quentyn's arms. But ACOK Dany died when she burnt the slavers in Astapor and crucified 163 of them in Dorne.

I agree, this is not due to Doran being a poor planner. Quentyn is unprepared because he sets off with a full complement of allies and resources but meets difficulties at every turn, losing most of the advantages he initially had. Instead of being able to present Dany with a chained maester from the Citadel of Westeros and a group of noble warriors, he his left with a "scoundrel" friend and Arch, who is bald and probably looks somewhat strange. When Quentyn leaves, the rumors about Dany and her dragons are still fairly vague, but her experience in Meereen and Jorah's betrayal have changed her into a completely different person than someone Quentyn can "rescue" and bring home to Westeros in triumph.

[SeanF]

I think you are probably right. I have to admit there was a point in my life that I felt more confident facing a machine gun nest than facing the prospect of propositioning a woman. Machine gun nests were easy, you just need the right tools and the right know-how. I had that, but I hadn't yet gathered the necessary know how on approaching women. But I think the one thing he feared most of all was failure. As you mentioned, his survivors guilt and self esteem is so wrapped up in doing his "duty" that he preferred such risk to failure.

Quite so. I was Quentyn at the age of 18. Women were a different (and terrifying) species for me.

[JonCon's Red Beard]

Quite so. I was Quentyn at the age of 18. Women were a different (and terrifying) species for me.

I have the feelign it was the same for GRRM.

[Summer Is Coming!]

Quite so. I was Quentyn at the age of 18. Women were a different (and terrifying) species for me.

I have the feelign it was the same for GRRM.

Martin's short stories from the 1970s and even later definitely reflect some serious romantic anxiety. I'm thinking specifically of "The Second Kind on Loneliness". Do Quentyn's thoughts about the Yronwood girls reinforce this? I think that the prospect of approaching a Targaryen princess/Queen is very different from approaching a Dornish girl he's known for many years.

[SeanF]

I have the feelign it was the same for GRRM.

I think GRRM has said that Samwell is the character who's most like him. But, he has much the same attitude towards Gilly that Quentyn has towards girls. Fortunately, Gilly took the initiative.

[Justin Amey]

Here is my thing about Quentyn Martell. I believe his whole story was just to show what could of or would of happened. He was a Character strictly for the readers benefit concerning Aegon. Quentyn went to Dany hoping to marry Dany and get her army and dragons, but instead gets rejected. Quentyn gets butt hurt and desperate, his desperation leads to his agonizing death.

Tyrion rips Aegon a new one telling him to quit thinking all optimistic like and tells him he might not taking as he is now. Aegon get butt hurt but take the advised and goes to Westeros.

If Aegon would have just appeared and took Quentyn's Journey To Merren Trying to get Dany, he might have suffered Quentyn's fate and she would truly be the last Targ.

Now to a reader, Aegon going to Westeros with the dragon would seem stupid but after Quentyen foolishness, it make more sense.

P.S: I may have spelled Quentyn name wrong multiple times don't kill me.

[SeanF]

I have the feelign it was the same for GRRM.

Genuine question. Are there 18 year old girls who are as shy as Quentyn?

[Hrafntýr]

The Dragon Tamer

Quentyn felt light-headed. None of this seemed quite real. One moment it felt like a game, the next like some nightmare, like a bad dream where he found himself opening a dark door, knowing that horror and death waited on the other side, yet somehow powerless to stop himself.

Summary

After a sleepless night, Quentyn enacts his plan to take possession of Dany’s dragons, to disastrous results.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The chapter opens with Quentyn, alone and apprehensive.

The prince lay abed, staring at his ceiling, dreaming without sleeping, remembering, imagining, twisting beneath his linen coverlet, his mind feverish with thoughts of fire and blood.

Getting up to pour himself a drink or two, he stares at the candle on the table before him, and lowers his hand to the flame:

It took every bit of will he had to lower it until the fire touched his flesh, and when it did he snatched his hand back with a cry of pain.

This quote telescopes the chapter, and kind of the whole mission, in a nutshell: Quentyn is forcing himself to do something that he knows is foolish and that can only end in pain.

He is joined by Gerris, who asks:

“Quentyn, are you mad?”

No, just scared. I do not want to burn.

Gerris tries to alter the mood, suggesting that they go to visit the Temple of the Graces to have sex with the Red Graces. Quentyn notices the falling rain, and offers it as an excuse, to cut off the discussion of a visit to what he refers to as “whores.” Gerris continues his attempt at lightheartedness, suggesting they should console the Graces who are left waiting in the rain.

“They could console me, is what you mean.”

“That too.”

“That is not the sort of consolation I require.”

We might ask: what sort of consolation does Quentyn require? Perhaps the consolation that he’s been good and dutiful, attempting to fulfill his mission despite his ill-suitedness for the task. Perhaps he wants to be consoled for stepping into what he fears will be his death. Or perhaps he wants not consolation but absolution, to be released from the obligation to carry out this ill-considered mission. But that’s not an absolution he would allow himself.

This opening section features Quentyn attempting to rationalize or to convince himself that this is what he has to do. We’ve talked a lot in the reread about Quentyn as dutiful, and there’s no doubt that he is. But two interrelated points emerge here: First, Quentyn has heretofore used “duty” as an excuse to leave his own desires and ideas unexamined: what he wants isn’t supposed to matter; he is Dorne, and must act as and for Dorne. But here, facing the likelihood that he will die, Quentyn’s thoughts seem to turn, at last, to his own desires:

Quentyn did not want to die at all. I want to go back to Yronwood and kiss both your sisters, marry Gwyneth Yronwood, watch her flower into beauty, have a child by her. I want to ride in tourneys, hawk and hunt, visit with my mother in Norvos, read some of those books my father sends me. I want Cletus and Will and Maester Kedry to be alive again.

I should have kissed one of the Drinkwater twins, or maybe both of them. I should have kissed them whilst I could. I should have gone to Norvos to see my mother and the place that gave her birth, so she would know that I had not forgotten her.

To say that we see a clash between duty and desire here might be too strong, since there’s not a lot of conflict in Quentyn’s thoughts on these points. It’s more a sad nod in the direction of what will never be.

Second, duty only takes you so far as a guideline for action, it doesn’t necessarily provide concrete answers for the question of how to proceed in specific circumstances. For Quentyn, being dutiful has been expressed as obedience, carrying out the orders of his father. He never stops to consider duty in any sense other than this of obedience, for example by asking whether Dorne might not be better served by having him return alive, something suggested by Barristan’s “Quentyn the Wise” moniker.

The wild inconsistencies in Quentyn’s internal and verbalized dialogue here reveal just how fuzzy is Quentyn’s certainty that he’s doing the right thing. To every argument raised by Gerris against the plan, Quentyn can provide an answer, but the answers don’t at all jibe with one another: in one breath, Quentyn says that it’s not necessary personally to please Dany to marry her, in the next that Dany might look favorably upon him because she doesn’t love Hizdahr.

The conversation with Gerris is another fine example of MCDS™. Gerris is actually providing an opportunity for Quentyn to discuss his fears and doubts, about Daenerys and about their plan to steal dragons, but Quentyn can only respond to Gerris’ statements as if they are a critique that must be set aside; they are, after all, irrelevant, for if you must do your duty, what’s the point of exploring your doubts and fears? Or so Quentyn seems to feel. Poor Quentyn can never become emotionally invested in what he does, as he consistently dismisses his feelings as beside the point.

And he immediately uses as his “defense” the perceptions and judgments of others: when Gerris suggests he might not wish to die a virgin, Quentyn’s thoughts do, in fact, turn toward personal desire, even romantic desire, but what he says is that Daenerys would disapprove were she to learn he’d slept with a whore. When Gerris says maybe Daenerys would rather he had some sexual experience, Quentyn’s thoughts are of his feelings of being an inexperienced boy before the experienced woman Daenerys, but what he says is that Doran sent him to marry Daenerys, not to please her in the bedchamber. When Gerris notes that Daenerys is already married, Quentyn says, “She does not love Hizdahr zo Loraq.” When Gerris points out the failure of Doran’s love marriage, Quentyn’s thoughts acknowledge the fact and Doran’s fallibility, but what he says is this is his duty, his destiny. And he thinks:

You are supposed to be my friend, Gerris. Why must you mock my hopes? I have doubts enough without your throwing oil on the fire of my fear.

But Gerris isn’t mocking him, and anyway, are the things he says aloud really his hopes? Basically, Quentyn experiences the attempt at conversation not just as critique but even mockery, the same sort of mockery he expected would come if he returned to Dorne “with his tail between his legs” having failed to win Daenerys. Quentyn is not only completely motivated by how others will perceive him, but he may have quite unrealistic ideas about those perceptions.

When Gerris blatantly states the risk of dying, Quentyn thinks:

He was not wrong. That was in the stories too. The hero sets out with his friends and companions, faces dangers, comes home triumphant. Only some of his companions don’t return at all. The hero never dies, though, I must be the hero.

This last line is often quoted as evidence of Quentyn’s foolishness, his naiveté, his failure to grasp the reality of the situation. But the thing is, he’s not exactly wrong. Someone will end up being the hero, and it’s not always the person we expect. The novels powerfully emphasize the gap between the existential reality of living in a story as it unfolds vs. how matters will appear at the end, i.e. how posterity is likely to remember actors who are in fact making things up as they go along, always subject to chance and forces outside their control. Had Quentyn succeeded, he wouldn’t be remembered as shy Quentyn Martell with the honest face and lack of charisma always second-guessing himself, rather his plan would be praised to high heavens, his story would have been legend, nobody would be saying how foolish he was, they would have been saying, “hmm, why didn’t anybody try to steal a dragon before this?” He would have been the hero. And he comes sort of close.

Incidentally, it’s here that we get some glimpse of Quentyn’s intentions with this dragonnapping plan: to seek out and find the lost Daenerys from dragonback. And when I do, she will look at me the way she looks at her sellsword. Once I have proven myself worthy of her.

Having heard enough of Gerris’ “mockery,” Quentyn dismisses him: “I’ll hear no more of this. You have my leave to go. Find a ship and run home, Gerris.” Ahh, that famous Martell Guilt™, here being dished out instead of taken.

After a light breakfast, Quentyn, Gerris and Arch put on their Brazen Beast disguises; Quentyn’s includes a whip, which he intends to use in imitation of Dany’s taming of Drogon in Daznak’s Pit. After accessing the pyramid with the guards’ password, they rendezvous with their six partners from the Windblown, one of whom is Pretty Meris, and enter the pyramid along with a mule-drawn cart of meat intended lull the dragons into torpor so that they can be chained up for transport out of the pyramid. Unbeknownst to the dragonnappers, another conspiracy is unfolding this night, one consequence of which is that the Brazen Beast password supplied by the Tattered Prince reveals them as interlopers to the guards of the dragonpit. A fight ensues, during which Quentyn is paralyzed with shock, and all four guards are killed. Quentyn can’t seem to process the situation, but Meris sharply sets him back on task, “Do what you came to do.”

The dragons, Prince Quentyn thought. Yes. We came for the dragons. He felt as though he might be sick. What am I doing here? Father, why? Four men dead in as many heartbeats, and for what? “Fire and blood,” he whispered, “blood and fire.”

Arch breaks the lock on the door (a door which is partially melted and ominously dinted by something trying to get out). Quentyn steps inside:

Warrior, grant me courage, he prayed. He did not want to do this, but he saw no other way. Why else would Daenerys have shown me the dragons? She wants me to prove myself to her.

He encounters Rhaegal first, and has a brief relapse to his Frog persona, managing only to croak Rhaegal’s name. He orders the food to be brought in, and Rhaegal is fed. Arch asks after the second dragon (would Quent have remembered on his own?!?), and Quent recalls that Rhaegal had been chained last time, but that Viserion had been hanging from the ceiling. He scans the ceiling, and locates Viserion’s burrow, with Viserion uncurling him(?)self from inside. “All of Quent’s plans had fled his head,” though his companions seem to be proceeding with other parts of the plan. Upon Viserion’s arrival, Gerris tries to argue that the plan will not work, but Quent wrenches free of Gerris’ grip, and proceeds with his attempt to tame a dragon, Viserion.

And when push comes to shove, Quentyn is brave as hell. To my mind, he almost succeeds in his undertaking. Compare Quentyn’s encounter with Viserion to Dany’s with Drogon

Daenerys:

“Drogon,” she screamed. “Drogon.”

His head turned. Smoke rose between his teeth. His blood was smoking too, where it dripped upon the ground. He beat his wings again, sending up a choking storm of scarlet sand. Dany stumbled into the hot red cloud, coughing. He snapped.

"No" was all that she had time to say. No, not me, don't you know me? The black teeth closed inches from her face. He meant to tear my head off….

…Drogon roared. The sound filled the pit. A furnace wind engulfed her. The dragon’s long scaled neck stretched toward her. When his mouth opened, she could see bits of broken bone and charred flesh between his black teeth. His eyes were molten. I am looking into hell, but I dare not look away. She had never been so certain of anything. If I run from him, he will burn me and devour me….

In the smoldering red pits of Drogon's eyes, Dany saw her own reflection. How small she looked, how weak and frail and scared. I cannot let him see my fear. She scrabbled in the sand, pushing against the pitmaster's corpse, and her fingers brushed against the handle of his whip. Touching it made her feel braver. The leather was warm, alive. Drogon roared again, the sound so loud that she almost dropped the whip. His teeth snapped at her.

Dany hit him. "No," she screamed, swinging the lash with all the strength that she had in her. The dragon jerked his head back. "No," she screamed again. "NO! " The barbs raked along his snout. Drogon rose, his wings covering her in shadow. Dany swung the lash at his scaled belly, back and forth until her arm began to ache. His long serpentine neck bent like an archer's bow. With a hisssssss, he spat black fire down at her. Dany darted underneath the flames, swinging the whip and shouting, "No, no, no. Get DOWN!" His answering roar was full of fear and fury, full of pain. His wings beat once, twice …

…and folded.

Quentyn:

Use their names, command them, speak to them calmly but sternly. The girl had been alone, clad in wisps of silk, but fearless. I must not be afraid. She did it, so can I. The main thing was to show no fear….

... “Viserion,” he called. The white one is Viserion. For half a heartbeat he was afraid he’d gotten it wrong. “Viserion,” he called again, fumbling for the whip hanging from his belt. She cowed the black on with a whip. I need to do the same.

The dragon knew his name. His head turned, and his gaze lingered on the Dornish prince for three long heartbeats. Pale fires burned behind the shining black daggers of his teeth. His eyes were lakes of molten gold, and smoke rose from his nostrils.

“Down,” Quentyn said. The he coughed, and coughed again.

The air was thick with smoke and the sulfur stench was choking.

[Viserion loses interest, and scrabbles with unbelievable speed for the door. This provokes a Windblown to loose a crossbow at Viserion, which incites Viserion to attack and burn him alive. The Windblown pull back.]

Quentyn let his whip uncoil. “Viserion,” he called, louder this time. He could do this, he would do this, his father had sent him to the far ends of the earth for this, he would not fail him. “VISERION!” He snapped the whip in the air with a crack that echoed of the blackened walls.

The pale head rose. The great gold eyes narrowed. Wisps of smoke spiraled upward from the dragon’s nostrils.

“Down,” the prince commanded. You must not let him smell your fear. “Down, down, down.” He brought the whip around and laid a lash across the dragon’s face. Viserion hissed.”

There’s enough similarity in the two descriptions that we can at least wonder if Quentyn wasn’t going to succeed in taming Viserion. There are differences of course, too (e.g. Drogon is more aggressive), and it’s interesting to note that Quentyn perceived Dany as having been fearless in Daznak’s Pit, when we know from her point of view that she is as frightened as Quentyn, and like him chooses to hide her fear.

But it’s at just this point that Rhaegal comes from behind, and Quentyn’s companions shout to warn him of the danger.

Quentyn turned and threw his left arm across his face to shield his eyes from the furnace wind. Rhaegal, he reminded himself, the green one is Rhaegal.

When he raised his whip, he saw that the lash was burning. His hand as well. All of him, all of him was burning.

Oh, he thought. Then he began to scream.

:frown5:

Analysis:

Fire and Blood:

I argued in our discussion of the last chapter that Quentyn doesn’t misinterpret Dany’s words about fire and blood (for all that he misinterprets Doran’s wishes, though who can blame him if Doran just gave him some dramatic and cryptic “fire and blood” speech). I think that Doran misinterprets fire and blood. To my mind, Quentyn’s arc changes our perception of the larger Dornish arc. Where Doran’s “fire and blood” line, complete with onyx dragon, was all spine-tingly, making us anticipate a story of a long-planned vendetta coming to dramatic, fiery and bloody fruition, Quentyn’s story should give us pause, and cause us to rethink our anticipation that the Dornish plan will go as expected, or that fire and blood is the key to Dornish victory.

Fire and blood are not just house words, they are powerful, unruly forces. Even Dany doesn’t have full control over Drogon, but has to work sympathetically with him, according to the mysterious force of the dragonbond. Quentyn’s story reveals the horror and violence of fire and blood, their otherness, and their association with unanticipated consequences. To my mind this foreshadows things going horribly wrong with Doran’s plan. Incidentally, the fact that Quentyn had to work with the Windblown, an unsavory alliance he might rather have avoided, might also be suggestive of Dornish mésalliances down the road.

Arianne comparison:

An obvious comparison can be made between this chapter and Arianne’s Queenmaker chapter.

• Both concern plans conceived and put into motion by the siblings, plans which in both cases fail dramatically.
  
• In both, the siblings mythologize their plan:
  

Seven riders on their way to glory. One day the singers will make all of us immortal.

That was in the stories too. The hero sets out with his friends and companions, faces dangers, comes home triumphant. Only some of his companions don’t return at all. The hero never dies, though. I must be the hero.

Years from now, when I am dead, this will be the song they sing of me.

• While both siblings have loyal companions for their plots, both also have an ally of uncertain loyalty, though Darkstar’s betrayal emerges dramatically and unexpectedly for Arianne, while the Windblown end up staying true to their agreement. The status of those allies, though, remains an open question (i.e. we’re going to see a Darkstar hunt, and we have no idea if there will be consequences to Quentyn’s agreement with the Tattered Prince).
  

• Contrastingly, in the Queenmaker, it is others who pay the price for the failure of Arianne’s plot, while the main victim in Quentyn’s plot is Quentyn himself (and those 4 guards at the door, and one of Tatters’ men).
  
• Arianne’s thoughts turn to Quentyn several times during her chapter, and they are competitive thoughts, full of her sense that she is winning back her birthright that he had stolen. By contrast, Quentyn doesn’t think of Arianne. In fact, he hardly thinks of her at all throughout the course of his chapters, barring that mention that she would be scornful if he returned to Dorne empty-handed.
  
• For Arianne, what she wants is what Dorne must want, what’s good for her is also what is good for Dorne, despite it being what her father doesn’t want. For Quentyn, what is good for Dorne, as defined by his father, is what he should want, his own desires are irrelevant. This chapter is pretty much the first and only time that we get a glimpse of his desires, other than the basic desire to not have to carry out the entire mission at all.
  

There are also interesting resemblances between this chapter and Arianne’s “The Princess in the Tower” chapter.

• Both feature the theme of regrets. Arianne’s regrets are retrospective, full of self-blame, and concern the harm that came to others through her plan: the loss of Arys’ life, the maiming of Myrcella, the imprisonment or punishment of her co-conspirators. Quentyn’s regrets are sort of proleptic: they concern the loss of things that might have been in the future but now will never be.
  
• Both show the siblings questioning their father’s intentions toward them: for Arianne it is trying to reassure herself that her father doesn’t intend to kill her or to keep her locked up for life, and working to keep alive her sense that she's been treated unfairly; for Quentyn it is a more subtle, “What am I doing here? Father, why?” Both siblings, of course, are subject to that powerful Martell Guilt™, but Arianne can experience and express a wider range of emotions in relation to her father, including anger and resentment, while Quentyn at most can painfully question why his father would do this to him.
  
• Both show the siblings reflecting upon the subject of marriage, and the interplay between the arranged marriages expected of a prince or princess of Dorne and the siblings’ own desires. For Arianne, these thoughts are full of resentment over the string of old men her father had considered for her hand, versus the cases of Daemon Sand and Willas Tyrell, who were not her father's choices. For Quentyn, these thoughts tend more toward what he must do in order to bring about the arranged marriage with Daenerys, versus the preferred alignment with Gwyneth Yronwood.
  
• Both siblings share the key Dornish trait of stubbornness, as identified by Ser Barristan. It comes to the fore in these two chapters: Arianne’s determination not to relinquish her claim and to overcome the setback of the failure of her plot, alongside Quentyn’s determination to see things through to the end, no matter what, even if he knows it’s doomed.
  
• Contrastingly, “The Princess in the Tower” features Arianne subject to “Her Father’s Idea of Torment”; we see Arianne broken down before she can build herself back up again. “The Dragontamer,” it seems to me, shows us a Quentyn more autonomous than in any of his prior chapters.
  

It struck me, too, that Quentyn might be compared to Arys Oakheart, insofar as both are motivated by a sense of duty, chivalrous, inexperienced with women, and prepared to die a noble fool. Of course, Arys is famously manipulated by Arianne, so the likeness between Quentyn and Arys might suggest something about how Arianne and Quentyn stand in relation to one another.

Sex: the psychoanalytic interpretation redux

“The thought of bedding her terrified him almost as much as her dragons had.”

Over in the Dornish Debates thread, we had some discussion of Quentyn’s penis-phobia, which we linked to castration-anxiety and the Oedipus complex. We also raised the possibility that dragon=penis, and dragon=vagina. I do think that such a line of interpretation sheds some light on Quentyn’s character, but feel free to skip this section if Freudian/Lacanian psychoanalysis isn’t your thing!

We know that Arianne assumes that it’s Quentyn’s penis that makes Doran select him as heir and cast her aside. Quentyn may well have the same assumption, so that his penis comes to stand for political power, and the Law of the Father; he has notable ambivalence about claiming these things for himself. This ambivalence has justifiable cause: his penis might be responsible for why he was sent away to House Yronwood, why he’s named heir, and then why he’s sent off to Essos to marry the Targaryen Queen, rumored to be sexually voracious.

It’s easy to read this as an Oedipal drama, with two main variants. First, Quentyn’s removal from Sunspear to Yronwood could be fantasized by Quentyn as his removal as a sexual rival to Doran for Mellario. This is a straightforward Oedipal conflict, and the imposition of Doran’s decision would be Quentyn’s symbolic castration. But there’s a complication in our case, in that Mellario leaves Doran after this event [And as an aside: is there a Lady Yronwood? Is his second mommy missing too?]. On the one hand, Mellario’s departure could represent for Quentyn, fantastically, that Mellario prefers him to Doran, so that Quentyn’s Oedipus conflict isn’t resolved, but instead he can maintain the fantasy that he can be or regain that which would satisfy the mother; his attempt to possess the dragons would accordingly represent his attempt to regain the phallus so that he can satisfy the mother. [Here Daenerys can stand in symbolically as the Mother as well.]

But on the other hand, Mellario’s departure might result in an alternate fantasy configuration: Mellario has been taken away not just from Quentyn but also from Doran, because Doran, too, has lost the phallus. Accordingly, Quentyn’s quest to “regain” the dragon-as-phallus can be justified as an attempt to restore it to the Father, with whom Quentyn would thus be identified/aligned in the phallic order. This attempt to win dragons for his father (as Quentyn's ego substitute) does seem to be the dominant narrative that drives Quentyn, at least in his conscious thoughts.

It is striking that finally, at the end, Quentyn’s thoughts turn to girls, and take a form unlike those we’ve seen in his previous chapters. We’ve noted how his earlier thoughts of women are full of anxiety, but now:

I want to go back to Yronwood and kiss both your sisters, marry Gwyneth Yronwood, watch her flower into beauty, have a child by her. I want to ride in tourneys, hawk and hunt, visit with my mother in Norvos, read some of those books my father sends me. I want Cletus and Will and Maester Kedry to be alive again.

I should have kissed one of the Drinkwater twins, or maybe both of them. I should have kissed them whilst I could. I should have gone to Norvos to see my mother and the place that gave her birth, so she would know that I had not forgotten her.

Note the "I want"s in the first passage, the first time that Quentyn asserts himself as the subject of desire. Are these genuine regrets, a realization that he actually wanted kisses, marriage, sex? Does it signify that he has accepted the promise that there could be substitutes for his first lost love object, i.e Mellario? Or is it that he allows himself to think these things only once he knows that they will never happen, keeping intact his primary attachment to the mother?

I’ll just point out that Quentyn’s fantasy thoughts above follow a certain sequence: first the girls he ought to have kissed, and then his mother.

Another interesting little line:

The woman, Quentyn realized. He knows that she is female. He is looking for Daenerys. He wants his mother and does not understand why she’s not here.

Is this projection?

Back when Quentyn first thought of the Drinkwater twins, and we discussed why he was so averse to the thought of a sexual relationship with them, I half-joking referred ahead to Quentyn’s demise, suggesting that while you’re kissing one of them the other one sneaks up behind you and burns you to a crisp. I do find it a fun little coincidence that doubling plays a role in Quentyn’s story in this way: the two terrifying Drinkwater twins, his two daddies, and then finally the disastrous consequences of the fact that there are two dragons.

A few final questions:

We’ve reached the end of the line with Quentyn, at least in terms of his own point of view. We’re never going to know more about his own thoughts and feelings. I think for me some of the force of his chapters comes from what he never thought about. For example, there was never anything in Quentyn’s head about the Iron Throne, about the prospect being King of Westeros instead of heir to Dorne. It’s surprising that with his frequent “I am Dorne” assertions, he never reflects upon the fact that all his prior expectations of his own future have been turned around. Though heck, we don’t even really get confirmation that he had considered himself heir previously, that the infamous letter was ever delivered. Relatedly, we never get any recollections of Doran, nothing of what Doran has or hasn’t told him (beyond the one statement of caution, that what he’s doing is committing treason, that he should listen to his maester), let alone of how Quentyn might have responded to his father; Doran is just The Father, sitting in judgment, whom he cannot fail. And as I noted above, Quentyn also barely thinks of Arianne. Why is it that Doran and Arianne seem completely caught up in family drama, but Quentyn has only his abstract sense of duty, no emotional investment in his future? Is it simply a product of his fostering? Is the fact that Quentyn's chapters never bear his name may be an indicator that he never actually came into his own identity?

Most critics of the Quentyn chapters, those who say they are “pointless,” gesture to this chapter as the only reason that Quentyn was included: to release the dragons, and to set up a potential conflict between Dany and Dorne (and most of those critics think this is insufficient justification for his chapters). I’m sure we’ll be talking more about the latter in next week’s discussion, but I wonder if you all have ideas about the overall value and implications of Quentyn’s pov as a pov. I offered above my reading of “fire and blood” in Quentyn’s narrative and how it illuminates the Dornish arc. People often talk about Quentyn’s story as a “deconstruction of the hero narrative” insofar as his story demolishes the Frog Prince motif, the unassuming underdog who surprises everyone by becoming the hero. I think that his story might also offer a critique of duty alone as a motivation for action, though to be honest I don’t think that the failure of his mission means that we’re supposed to judge him negatively: lots of different kinds of people fail and die in these books. What’s the takeaway from Quentyn’s pov?

[Chebyshov]

Oh my, oh my! Thank you, Hrafntýr for that fantastic read. This is just so-so good, and really gets at Quentyn's cognition in a great way. I gotta love the mentions of MCDS™ and Martell Guilt™ which featured oh-so-strongly in Quentyn's final moments. I mean, hell, his "Four men dead in as many heartbeats, and for what?" as he's calling the mission into question, and it's that question, that guilt that spurs him on. Tragic.

Fire and Blood:
Fire and blood are not just house words, they are powerful, unruly forces. Even Dany doesn’t have full control over Drogon, but has to work sympathetically with him, according to the mysterious force of the dragonbond. Quentyn’s story reveals the horror and violence of fire and blood, their otherness, and their association with unanticipated consequences. To my mind this foreshadows things going horribly wrong with Doran’s plan. Incidentally, the fact that Quentyn had to work with the Windblown, an unsavory alliance he might rather have avoided, might also be suggestive of Dornish mésalliances down the road.

Oh boy. Maybe this is why is why I argued for Quentyn misinterpreting Doran’s intent. I don’t think the Dornish have an easy road forward, by any means, but if Quentyn’s arc does serve as foreshadowing in this explicit of a way…

My own want is to view the “purpose” of Quentyn’s story more as a parallel to Arianne’s. It’s like he was the son raised with “everything,” but at a distance, whereas Arianne was raised with “nothing” (due to her threatened birthright), yet around Doran. And how her arc, her plans, which originally put her in opposition of Doran landed her in perfect synchrony with him, whereas Quentyn, following Doran’s plan, ended up deviating…to his demise.

I’ll flesh that more out once we hit his last chapter, but that was just some logorrhea for the time being.

Arianne comparison
…
While both siblings have loyal companions for their plots, both also have an ally of uncertain loyalty, though Darkstar’s betrayal emerges dramatically and unexpectedly for Arianne, while the Windblown end up staying true to their agreement. The status of those allies, though, remains an open question (i.e. we’re going to see a Darkstar hunt, and we have no idea if there will be consequences to Quentyn’s agreement with the Tattered Prince).

Oooh, this is making me think Pentos will be a bigger sticking point, despite Barry’s offer next chapter. Sorry, Julia, I’ll save that for you. I could scream about Pentos for awhile.

Contrastingly, in the Queenmaker, it is others who pay the price for the failure of Arianne’s plot, while the main victim in Quentyn’s plot is Quentyn himself (and those 4 guards at the door, and one of Tatters’ men).

And the 3 men who died on the voyage over that Quentyn always thinks about. But yeah, Gerris and Arch are okayish. I do want to note that Quentyn gets upset by those 4 guards, and we see Arianne obviously concerned for Cedra in her “Princess in the Tower” scene. So both seem like compassionate individuals?

Arianne’s thoughts turn to Quentyn several times during her chapter, and they are competitive thoughts, full of her sense that she is winning back her birthright that he had stolen. By contrast, Quentyn doesn’t think of Arianne. In fact, he hardly thinks of her at all throughout the course of his chapters, barring that mention that she would be scornful if he returned to Dorne empty-handed.

I wanted to ramble about this last week. I may still ramble about it now. Did he know she was to be queen? If Doran sent that letter to Quentyn, then yeah. But he never once thinks about Arianne as the ruler of Dorne? This is so questionable given Doran’s ailing condition. Just a thought.

For Arianne, what she wants is what Dorne must want, what’s good for her is also what is good for Dorne, despite it being what her father doesn’t want. For Quentyn, what is good for Dorne, as defined by his father, is what he should want, his own desires are irrelevant. This chapter is pretty much the first and only time that we get a glimpse of his desires, other than the basic desire to not have to carry out the entire mission at all.

His desires are all about Yronwood too. And his mother. I found that notable, because he doesn’t once think about Sunspear or his dad when he’s reflecting on what he wishes he could do instead. Both of their commitments to Dorne is striking though. That is some strong national pride. This just makes me think even more that people are making a mountain out of a molehill with their framing of “Yronwood vs. Martell.”

Both feature the theme of regrets. Arianne’s regrets are retrospective, full of self-blame, and concern the harm that came to others through her plan: the loss of Arys’ life, the maiming of Myrcella, the imprisonment or punishment of her co-conspirators. Quentyn’s regrets are sort of proleptic: they concern the loss of things that might have been in the future but now will never be.

It’s interesting, because they’re both self-deprecating, but in different ways. Arianne wants to know only what happened to her friends, and even tells her father to kill her if he won’t speak the truth, at some point. To her, her future is gone, but she wants to reflect on any wrongs in her life that were her doing. Quentyn, though he did feel guilty about Kendry, Cletus, and Wells’s deaths for some time, is now focusing on himself and his missed opportunities, because it seems like he never allowed himself distractions or pleasures. Arianne meanwhile knows that her taking of pleasures can be used as a weapon against her, and ends up using it to be unassuming.

Both show the siblings questioning their father’s intentions toward them: for Arianne it is trying to reassure herself that her father doesn’t intend to kill her or to keep her locked up for life, and working to keep alive her sense that she's been treated unfairly; for Quentyn it is a more subtle, “What am I doing here? Father, why?” Both siblings, of course, are subject to that powerful Martell Guilt™, but Arianne can experience and express a wider range of emotions in relation to her father, including anger and resentment, while Quentyn at most can painfully question why his father would do this to him.

Doran’s hold over Arianne makes sense, because his actions hurt her deeply. But Quentyn’s guilt is curious and deeply ingrained. I wonder if he blames himself for his parents’ split, hence the two thoughts of Mellario in the chapter? Just my own weird musing.

Both show the siblings reflecting upon the subject of marriage, and the interplay between the arranged marriages expected of a prince or princess of Dorne and the siblings’ own desires. For Arianne, these thoughts are full of resentment over the string of old men her father had considered for her hand, versus the cases of Daemon Sand and Willas Tyrell, who were not her father's choices. For Quentyn, these thoughts tend more toward what he must do in order to bring about the arranged marriage with Daenerys, versus the preferred alignment with Gwyneth Yronwood.

Who had terrified him previously. Notably he fears sex in the marriage (listing it as his primary concern), whereas Arianne not only felt that her father’s matches were insults to her (they were), but also major turn-offs. Solution: Arianne should have been sent to woo Dany.

Contrastingly, “The Princess in the Tower” features Arianne subject to “Her Father’s Idea of Torment”; we see Arianne broken down before she can build herself back up again. “The Dragontamer,” it seems to me, shows us a Quentyn more autonomous than in any of his prior chapters.

Yeah, I saw that too. He’s actually coming into his own a little bit, nonchalantly lying to the guards and acting in a role we’ve only seen Gerris fill before. It’s bravado, but also Quentyn’s the only one who wants to go through with this…

Anyway, sex and musings on his overall narrative will come later! Had to get in on the Arianne comparison tonight though ;)

[JonCon's Red Beard]

We know that Arianne assumes that it’s Quentyn’s penis that makes Doran select him as heir and cast her aside. Quentyn may well have the same assumption, so that his penis comes to stand for political power, and the Law of the Father; he has notable ambivalence about claiming these things for himself. This ambivalence has justifiable cause: his penis might be responsible for why he was sent away to House Yronwood, why he’s named heir, and then why he’s sent off to Essos to marry the Targaryen Queen, rumored to be sexually voracious.

It’s easy to read this as an Oedipal drama, with two main variants. First, Quentyn’s removal from Sunspear to Yronwood could be fantasized by Quentyn as his removal as a sexual rival to Doran for Mellario. This is a straightforward Oedipal conflict, and the imposition of Doran’s decision would be Quentyn’s symbolic castration. But there’s a complication in our case, in that Mellario leaves Doran after this event [And as an aside: is there a Lady Yronwood? Is his second mommy missing too?]. On the one hand, Mellario’s departure could represent for Quentyn, fantastically, that Mellario prefers him to Doran, so that Quentyn’s Oedipus conflict isn’t resolved, but instead he can maintain the fantasy that he can be or regain that which would satisfy the mother; his attempt to possess the dragons would accordingly represent his attempt to regain the phallus so that he can satisfy the mother. [Here Daenerys can stand in symbolically as the Mother as well.]

But on the other hand, Mellario’s departure might result in an alternate fantasy configuration: Mellario has been taken away not just from Quentyn but also from Doran, because Doran, too, has lost the phallus. Accordingly, Quentyn’s quest to “regain” the dragon-as-phallus can be justified as an attempt to restore it to the Father, with whom Quentyn would thus be identified/aligned in the phallic order. This attempt to win dragons for his father (as Quentyn's ego substitute) does seem to be the dominant narrative that drives Quentyn, at least in his conscious thoughts.

Without entering a discussion about the need of a mother in growing up, I think that Quentyn is one of those cases in which the lack of a mother has "ruined" his future relationship with women. Or at least, has affected him badly, something that I also see in Jaime, although in an opposite way. Jaime has been removed by his mother after he was discovered performing as a "man" with his sister. Shortly after that, she dies and he lost that image forever. Yet, while he keeps calling Cersei his "other half", and sees in her the figure of the lover, he has never trusted her with his deepest secrets and remorse, which is maybe due to her denying him the right to call his children as such, hence, not seeing her as a mother. It's Catelyn, probably the most "materal" figure in ASOIAF, who he first opens up about his traumatic experiences in KL. And later, Brienne, who is gentle and kind (and who Hyle Hunt qualifies as wanting a child of her own. Foreshadowing? Ok, OT). For Jaime, the lack of a mother is him losing a part of femininity that represents tenderness, protectiveness and trust. What does the lack of a mother represent for Quentyn, then? I suppose is the fact that he doesn't even know how to behave in front of women because he doesn't exactly know what they represent. After all, mothers are also object of desire (otherwise we wouldn't exist) while we also see them as a divine untouchable figure (no one likes to be reminded of mothers as sexual beings). Is that combination that Quentyn can't really figure out, it seems. He's extra polite with women as it's expected for him while also knowing that he should, at some point, bed a few (or one).

Also, Dorne is one of those places when we can see equality being a real thing in Westeros, and while they still have gender roles in their society, the line is very very blurred for the Dornishmen: women can rule and fight just as good as any man. The figure of the damsel in distress is not something that one would see very often in Dorne like in the rest of Westeros, in which many ladies are raised to be wooed by men and believe they're the great thing because they have a penis and rights. Women in Dorne aren't as easily impressed.

Yet, Dorne is still part of their society. Quentyn still has to live knowing that he's not like other young sons of mayor houses of his same age. For example, Edmure is younger than Lysa and Cat, yet, he's going to be an heir just because he's a man. The fact Quentyn is also a man matters little in Dorne. He does not resent it, but I wonder how many would believe him less or inappropriate just for that little detail.

Oh boy. Maybe this is why is why I argued for Quentyn misinterpreting Doran’s intent. I don’t think the Dornish have an easy road forward, by any means, but if Quentyn’s arc does serve as foreshadowing in this explicit of a way…

I agree on Dorne not having an easy road, but I think that, at the end, the will succeed. As Julia said in another thread, GRRM has some love for old guys who people underestimate. Doran is one of the most underestimated characters from the books.

I have to admit, that the new characters presented in Feast and Dance, which is, as I see it, the "second part" of the story, are HIGHLY underestimated by readers, and due to (#fuck)HBO, they are easily labelled as "meaningless" or "useless" or "replaceable". At least Doran survived the purge, and not his children. Believing Doran won't be a mayor player in the next books is just fooling themselves.

[Hrafntýr]

Oh my, oh my! Thank you, Hrafntýr for that fantastic read. This is just so-so good, and really gets at Quentyn's cognition in a great way. I gotta love the mentions of MCDS™ and Martell Guilt™ which featured oh-so-strongly in Quentyn's final moments. I mean, hell, his "Four men dead in as many heartbeats, and for what?" as he's calling the mission into question, and it's that question, that guilt that spurs him on. Tragic.

Thanks so much, Chebyshov, I'm glad that you enjoyed it!

And the 3 men who died on the voyage over that Quentyn always thinks about. But yeah, Gerris and Arch are okayish. I do want to note that Quentyn gets upset by those 4 guards, and we see Arianne obviously concerned for Cedra in her “Princess in the Tower” scene. So both seem like compassionate individuals?

Absolutely they are both compassionate individuals; I just thought that the theme of Arianne's remorse, and the fuller view of her compassion, comes more in to play in "Princess in the Tower," though I guess that there is an interesting comparison to be drawn between Arianne collapsing in sickness when things go terribly wrong in the Queenmaker, and the fact that her first instinct (rightfully, I'd say) was to yield, and Quentyn's bolstering himself and forging on to the bitter end

I wanted to ramble about this last week. I may still ramble about it now. Did he know she was to be queen? If Doran sent that letter to Quentyn, then yeah. But he never once thinks about Arianne as the ruler of Dorne? This is so questionable given Doran’s ailing condition. Just a thought.

Right? It is just so baffling, as I said later in my post, it's one of the most outstanding features of Quentyn's chapters, that he never thinks of the political framework back home into which his mission is supposed to fit. Is it just because he's myopic?

His desires are all about Yronwood too. And his mother. I found that notable, because he doesn’t once think about Sunspear or his dad when he’s reflecting on what he wishes he could do instead. Both of their commitments to Dorne is striking though. That is some strong national pride. This just makes me think even more that people are making a mountain out of a molehill with their framing of “Yronwood vs. Martell.”

I'm inclined to agree, after doing this re-read. I do wonder if Drink and Arch will make it back home, and what they're going to say. But I'm sure we'll be talking about that next week!

It’s interesting, because they’re both self-deprecating, but in different ways. Arianne wants to know only what happened to her friends, and even tells her father to kill her if he won’t speak the truth, at some point. To her, her future is gone, but she wants to reflect on any wrongs in her life that were her doing. Quentyn, though he did feel guilty about Kendry, Cletus, and Wells’s deaths for some time, is now focusing on himself and his missed opportunities, because it seems like he never allowed himself distractions or pleasures. Arianne meanwhile knows that her taking of pleasures can be used as a weapon against her, and ends up using it to be unassuming.

It is just so striking, the way that Arianne wants so much, she is just so full of will, so independent, whereas really, it's only in the final hours of his life that we ever see Quentyn articulate an independent desire.

Doran’s hold over Arianne makes sense, because his actions hurt her deeply. But Quentyn’s guilt is curious and deeply ingrained. I wonder if he blames himself for his parents’ split, hence the two thoughts of Mellario in the chapter? Just my own weird musing.

I don't think that's a weird musing at all, I think it's really very plausible. It's somehow bound up with his profound sense of inadequacy. It's hard not to suppose that he thinks his father somehow found him inadequate or disposable, given the events surrounding the decision to foster him, which must have been really confusing in combination with the letter about being heir, if he ever got the letter.

Who had terrified him previously. Notably he fears sex in the marriage (listing it as his primary concern), whereas Arianne not only felt that her father’s matches were insults to her (they were), but also major turn-offs. Solution: Arianne should have been sent to woo Dany.

Indeed. There's a way in which to be sexy you've got to feel sexy.

Yeah, I saw that too. He’s actually coming into his own a little bit, nonchalantly lying to the guards and acting in a role we’ve only seen Gerris fill before. It’s bravado, but also Quentyn’s the only one who wants to go through with this…

Anyway, sex and musings on his overall narrative will come later! Had to get in on the Arianne comparison tonight though ;)

Now, as for Fire and Blood:

Oh boy. Maybe this is why is why I argued for Quentyn misinterpreting Doran’s intent. I don’t think the Dornish have an easy road forward, by any means, but if Quentyn’s arc does serve as foreshadowing in this explicit of a way…

My own want is to view the “purpose” of Quentyn’s story more as a parallel to Arianne’s. It’s like he was the son raised with “everything,” but at a distance, whereas Arianne was raised with “nothing” (due to her threatened birthright), yet around Doran. And how her arc, her plans, which originally put her in opposition of Doran landed her in perfect synchrony with him, whereas Quentyn, following Doran’s plan, ended up deviating…to his demise.

I agree on Dorne not having an easy road, but I think that, at the end, the will succeed. As Julia said in another thread, GRRM has some love for old guys who people underestimate. Doran is one of the most underestimated characters from the books.

I have to admit, that the new characters presented in Feast and Dance, which is, as I see it, the "second part" of the story, are HIGHLY underestimated by readers, and due to (#fuck)HBO, they are easily labelled as "meaningless" or "useless" or "replaceable". At least Doran survived the purge, and not his children. Believing Doran won't be a mayor player in the next books is just fooling themselves.

Oh guys, believe me when I say that I was not happy to be writing my thoughts about the implications of Fire and Blood in Quentyn's narrative. Before doing this reread, I was so on-board with Doran as mastermind par excellence, certain that he had a lot more up his sleeve. But damn, this reread has given me a terrible, sinking feeling that Doran has misjudged the situation. I realized that my expectations of a positive outcome for Doran's scheming were based on a superficial reading of Quentyn's story, and most especially of the role of "fire and blood" in his chapters. I really hope that you guys are right, of course, and that Quentyn is the one who misunderstood the nature of fire and blood, misunderstood what Dany had shown him. But Quentyn is the only Martell who has had direct interaction with Dany and with the dragons, and I think that he has shown us all too clearly what fire and blood means.

Though Chebyshov, I really like what you say about Quentyn's arc and characterization being intended as a parallel/comparison to Arianne's, which of course would have been even more transparent had AFfC and ADwD been one book, as originally intended. Maybe I'll try to latch onto that possibility as a way out of my depressing line of thought!

JCRB: I'll get back to your excellent thoughts about mothers after I get home from work today!

[Hrafntýr]

Without entering a discussion about the need of a mother in growing up, I think that Quentyn is one of those cases in which the lack of a mother has "ruined" his future relationship with women. Or at least, has affected him badly, something that I also see in Jaime, although in an opposite way. Jaime has been removed by his mother after he was discovered performing as a "man" with his sister. Shortly after that, she dies and he lost that image forever. Yet, while he keeps calling Cersei his "other half", and sees in her the figure of the lover, he has never trusted her with his deepest secrets and remorse, which is maybe due to her denying him the right to call his children as such, hence, not seeing her as a mother. It's Catelyn, probably the most "materal" figure in ASOIAF, who he first opens up about his traumatic experiences in KL. And later, Brienne, who is gentle and kind (and who Hyle Hunt qualifies as wanting a child of her own. Foreshadowing? Ok, OT). For Jaime, the lack of a mother is him losing a part of femininity that represents tenderness, protectiveness and trust. What does the lack of a mother represent for Quentyn, then? I suppose is the fact that he doesn't even know how to behave in front of women because he doesn't exactly know what they represent. After all, mothers are also object of desire (otherwise we wouldn't exist) while we also see them as a divine untouchable figure (no one likes to be reminded of mothers as sexual beings). Is that combination that Quentyn can't really figure out, it seems. He's extra polite with women as it's expected for him while also knowing that he should, at some point, bed a few (or one).

Also, Dorne is one of those places when we can see equality being a real thing in Westeros, and while they still have gender roles in their society, the line is very very blurred for the Dornishmen: women can rule and fight just as good as any man. The figure of the damsel in distress is not something that one would see very often in Dorne like in the rest of Westeros, in which many ladies are raised to be wooed by men and believe they're the great thing because they have a penis and rights. Women in Dorne aren't as easily impressed.

Yet, Dorne is still part of their society. Quentyn still has to live knowing that he's not like other young sons of mayor houses of his same age. For example, Edmure is younger than Lysa and Cat, yet, he's going to be an heir just because he's a man. The fact Quentyn is also a man matters little in Dorne. He does not resent it, but I wonder how many would believe him less or inappropriate just for that little detail.

<snip>

I really enjoyed these reflections on the importance of mothers, and the absence of mothers, JCRB. You did a beautiful job drawing out the ways in which Joanna's death, and in particular its timing, affects Jaime's psyche; her appearance in his weirwood dream is striking, in that it allows him to confront his deep wounds about not having lived up to his youthful knightly ideals; it seems as if with Cersei he always kept the mask of being blithely unaffected by the things he had done, his failure to live up to his oaths, and I think we saw that Cersei's love is not unconditional in the way that a mother's love is supposed to be. Jaime can't show his vulnerability to Cersei. And I think it's interesting that when Brienne does the things that a mother would do for a helpless child, washing him and feeding him and cleaning his shit and all, that he can expose his deep secrets and pain.

And yes, I think you're right that this can be usefully compared to Quentyn's case, that Quentyn suffers from a similar loss that has had consequences for his ability to acknowledge his own doubts and hopes and fears (at least not until the eve of walking into what he fears will be his death, which is also when he starts thinking about girls in an interested way). Both men also have distant fathers, and both sons likely perceive themselves as being treated as tools in their father's political machinations, which no doubt affects their own relationship to their own masculinity and what it means, despite the differing gender relations in Dorne. [And on this point, it's interesting to recall Arianne's comments to Arys about Quentyn's foster father, for all that they should be taken with a grain of salt, given the context: "Anders Yronwood is Criston Cole reborn. He whispers in my brother's ear that he should rule after my father, that it is not right for men to kneel to women ... that Arianne especially is unfit to rule, being the willful wanton that she is."] Now it may be that those different gender norms in Dorne has meant that historically speaking there were plenty of royal mothers who took the role of embodying the Law of the Father, but nevertheless they would, as you suggest, still have provided a model of femininity to which their sons (and daughters) could relate, something that you so clearly point out has been absent in Quentyn's upbringing (especially if there was no Lady Yronwood). So fascinating that the woman he's sent to woo is the Mother of Dragons, and that this identity, shown him in his visit with Daenerys to the dragonpit, is the one that inspires him to his first autonomous act, the first time that he takes charge of his own course.

[Rhaenys_Targaryen]

Note the "I want"s in the first passage, the first time that Quentyn asserts himself as the subject of desire. Are these genuine regrets, a realization that he actually wanted kisses, marriage, sex? Does it signify that he has accepted the promise that there could be substitutes for his first lost love object, i.e Mellario? Or is it that he allows himself to think these things only once he knows that they will never happen, keeping intact his primary attachment to the mother?

I think that Quentyn realises here that this is the moment, it all comes down to the dragons.. People tend to regret the things they didn't do, not the things they did do. Quentyn here seems to regret not having done those things, or regret the situations that made it impossible for those things to ever happen..

So yeah, I think that his regrets are genuine..

A few final questions:

We’ve reached the end of the line with Quentyn, at least in terms of his own point of view. We’re never going to know more about his own thoughts and feelings. I think for me some of the force of his chapters comes from what he never thought about. For example, there was never anything in Quentyn’s head about the Iron Throne, about the prospect being King of Westeros instead of heir to Dorne. It’s surprising that with his frequent “I am Dorne” assertions, he never reflects upon the fact that all his prior expectations of his own future have been turned around. Though heck, we don’t even really get confirmation that he had considered himself heir previously, that the infamous letter was ever delivered. Relatedly, we never get any recollections of Doran, nothing of what Doran has or hasn’t told him (beyond the one statement of caution, that what he’s doing is committing treason, that he should listen to his maester), let alone of how Quentyn might have responded to his father; Doran is just The Father, sitting in judgment, whom he cannot fail. And as I noted above, Quentyn also barely thinks of Arianne. Why is it that Doran and Arianne seem completely caught up in family drama, but Quentyn has only his abstract sense of duty, no emotional investment in his future? Is it simply a product of his fostering? Is the fact that Quentyn's chapters never bear his name may be an indicator that he never actually came into his own identity?

Perhaps the reason that Quentyn never thinks about becoming King of Westeros, is because he has been raised believing that he would rule Dorne, and the reality of a change of plans hasn't sunk in that far. He sees retrieving and marryign Dany as a mission, and doesn't look beyond that.

[JonCon's Red Beard]

I really enjoyed these reflections on the importance of mothers, and the absence of mothers, JCRB. You did a beautiful job drawing out the ways in which Joanna's death, and in particular its timing, affects Jaime's psyche; her appearance in his weirwood dream is striking, in that it allows him to confront his deep wounds about not having lived up to his youthful knightly ideals; it seems as if with Cersei he always kept the mask of being blithely unaffected by the things he had done, his failure to live up to his oaths, and I think we saw that Cersei's love is not unconditional in the way that a mother's love is supposed to be. Jaime can't show his vulnerability to Cersei. And I think it's interesting that when Brienne does the things that a mother would do for a helpless child, washing him and feeding him and cleaning his shit and all, that he can expose his deep secrets and pain.

Thanks :) As I said, I've been doing a small Jaime re-read and his relationship with women are very interesting.

And yes, I think you're right that this can be usefully compared to Quentyn's case, that Quentyn suffers from a similar loss that has had consequences for his ability to acknowledge his own doubts and hopes and fears (at least not until the eve of walking into what he fears will be his death, which is also when he starts thinking about girls in an interested way). Both men also have distant fathers, and both sons likely perceive themselves as being treated as tools in their father's political machinations, which no doubt affects their own relationship to their own masculinity and what it means, despite the differing gender relations in Dorne.

It's also interesting to notice what kind of men their fathers are, in a sexual aspect. They both married for love and are known to have involved with one and only woman. Even if Doran had other women in his life before Mellario, he's now a discreet man, either because he's the ruler of Dorne or due to his own personality or illness. Tywin is not that different. We know he has had a few whores (personally, I don't blame him for THAT one aspect of his life) but he kept a very chaste image in front of others, specially his own children. That has definitely affected Quentyn and Jaime and how they perceived their own masculinity and sexuality and their roles as males. Jaime seems to be quite asexual and indifferent towards women that are not Cersei, or at least, "tamed" in his feelings towards them. Quentyn is not different as he seems to have more of a "consort" attitude rather than being the one who is in "charge" of the relationship, as it is expected from a man in Westeros.

[Chebyshov]

Perhaps the reason that Quentyn never thinks about becoming King of Westeros, is because he has been raised believing that he would rule Dorne, and the reality of a change of plans hasn't sunk in that far. He sees retrieving and marryign Dany as a mission, and doesn't look beyond that.

I meant to say this ages ago, but he doesn't reflect on believing he'd rule Dorne either. He is very task-focused, but when he's thinking "I never wanted any of this," we learn that what he does want all seems to be centered around Yronwood (other than visiting Super Mellario). I have to assume he got Doran's letter, but it does seem odd that he never thinks about "losing" Dorne (having to live in KL at the least), or about Arianne. Doran is ailing and with this mission, Arianne is set to rule. And moreso, Quentyn could even think about "replacing" Arianne as a ruler of Westeros (though I think most of us agree Princess of Dorne >> Queen of Westeros).

We know Arianne gives that some thought, but Quentyn has been the source of her displaced anger and anxiety for awhile).

So what's going on? Do we think that he just really doesn't look at the long-term past a certain mission?

[Rhaenys_Targaryen]

I meant to say this ages ago, but he doesn't reflect on believing he'd rule Dorne either. He is very task-focused, but when he's thinking "I never wanted any of this," we learn that what he does want all seems to be centered around Yronwood (other than visiting Super Mellario). I have to assume he got Doran's letter, but it does seem odd that he never thinks about "losing" Dorne (having to live in KL at the least), or about Arianne. Doran is ailing and with this mission, Arianne is set to rule. And moreso, Quentyn could even think about "replacing" Arianne as a ruler of Westeros (though I think most of us agree Princess of Dorne >> Queen of Westeros).

We know Arianne gives that some thought, but Quentyn has been the source of her displaced anger and anxiety for awhile).

So what's going on? Do we think that he just really doesn't look at the long-term past a certain mission?

I think that there was a short moment of relief that he wouldn't have to rule Dorne, before the anxiety sank in because he was supposed to become the King Consort of Westeros.

"I never wanted any of this" doesn't necessarily have to be only about becomming Dany's husband, right? It can easily be "I never wanted any of this" = "I never wanted any ruling position. I only want to kiss pretty girls, and marry a girl who likes me, watch her mature and become beautiful, have a child, ride in tourneys, have fun, see my mother again."

I kind of reminds me of Dany's "In her dream [Dany and Daario] had been man and wife, simple folk who lived a simple life in a tall stone house with a red door. In her dream he had been kissing her all over—her mouth, her neck, her breasts." In other words, it slightly reminds me of the innocense Dany associates with the house with the red door in Braavos. A simple life, without plotting, without having to rule, without much trouble..

[Julia Martell]

Whatya mean it’s almost two weeks late? :leaving:

The Queen’s Hand

Summary

We open with the news that our prince is dead. Not only dead, but dead after three days of lingering agony.

Ser Barristan is respectful and compassionate at his death, but also doesn’t mince word about what he thought of Quentyn’s actions and of the man himself.

“At his command, Quentyn Martell had been laid out in the queen’s own bed. He had been a knight, and a prince of Dorne besides. It seemed only kind to let him die in the bed he had crossed half a world to reach. The bedding was ruined—sheets, covers, pillows, mattress, all reeked of blood and smoke, but Ser Barristan thought Daenerys would forgive him.

After the girl was gone, the old knight peeled back the coverlet for one last look at Quentyn Martell’s face, or what remained of it. So much of the prince’s flesh had sloughed away that he could see the skull beneath. His eyes were pools of pus. He should have stayed in Dorne. He should have stayed a frog. Not all men are meant to dance with dragons.

When he goes down the pyramid to speak to the rest of Dany’s courtiers about it, they are a good deal less generous, and Barry is nice enough to defend him.

“The brazen mask beneath his arm was new—a wolf’s head with lolling tongue. “So,” he said, by way of greeting, “the fool is dead, is he?”

“Prince Quentyn died just before first light.” Selmy was not surprised that Skahaz knew. Word traveled quickly within the pyramid. “Is the council assembled?”

“Quentyn Martell died this morning, just before the dawn.”

The Widower laughed. “The dragonrider.”

“Fool, I call him,” said Symon Stripeback.

No, just a boy. Ser Barristan had not forgotten the follies of his own youth. “Speak no ill of the dead. The prince paid a ghastly price for what he did.”

After the council discusses several thing, including the fact that the Green Grace has been sent to negotiate with the Yunkai’i, that the Sons of the Harpy are on a complete rampage, that Daario, Hero, and one of Dany’s Blood Riders are still being held hostage, and that there are two dragons just kind of hanging out in buildings in the city he decides that he must go and tell Ser Archibald Yronwood and Ser Gerris Drinkwater that their friend is dead.

The Big Man takes it stoically, but Drink is pissed.

Ser Gerris punched a wall. “I told him it was folly. I begged him to go home. Your bitch of a queen had no use for him, any man could see that. He crossed the world to offer her his love and fealty, and she laughed in his face.”

“She never laughed,” said Selmy. “If you knew her, you would know that.”

“She spurned him. He offered her his heart, and she threw it back at him and went off to fuck her sellsword.”

“You had best guard that tongue, ser.” Ser Barristan did not like this Gerris Drinkwater, nor would he allow him to vilify Daenerys. “Prince Quentyn’s death was his own doing, and yours.”

Yeah, Drink doesn’t like Dany much. And he’s definitely not a Martell because he refuses to accept responsibility for what happened to Quentyn.

“Ours? How are we at fault, ser? Quentyn was our friend, yes. A bit of a fool, you might say, but all dreamers are fools. But first and last he was our prince. We owed him our obedience.”

Barry tells them it was nothing personal.

“He offered her his heart,” Ser Gerris said again.

“She needed swords, not hearts.”

“He would have given her the spears of Dorne as well.”

“Would that he had.” No one had wanted Daenerys to look with favor on the Dornish prince more than Barristan Selmy. “He came too late, though, and this folly … buying sellswords, loosing two dragons on the city … that was madness and worse than madness. That was treason.”

Barry has no sentimentality about Quentyn’s death.

“What he did he did for love of Queen Daenerys,” Gerris Drinkwater insisted. “To prove himself worthy of her hand.”

The old knight had heard enough. “What Prince Quentyn did he did for Dorne. Do you take me for some doting grandfather? I have spent my life around kings and queens and princes. Sunspear means to take up arms against the Iron Throne. No, do not trouble to deny it. Doran Martell is not a man to call his spears without hope of victory. Duty brought Prince Quentyn here. Duty, honor, thirst for glory … never love. Quentyn was here for dragons, not Daenerys.”

Ser Gerris continues to try to defend their actions, but Arch eventually tells him to shut up. He accepts what they did and is willing to accept punishment for it, but comments that he doubts Barry would come down here to talk to them if he planned on executing them.

Barry admitts that he wants their help. He asks the guys what the hell happened in the pit anyway. Arch tells the story, Quentyn was sure he could tame one of the dragons. Even when they go to the pit and it was clear this whole thing wouldn’t work, he still insisted on persevering. It seems that neither of the men actually saw what went down with Quent and Rhaegal. The “next thing they knew” the prince was screaming and burning. The Windblown sellswords all ran at the first sign of trouble. (Apparently they got away.) When the brazen beasts came in neither of the Dornishmen offered any resistance, and were arrested.

Ser Barristan tells the Dornish Duo that he wants to send them back to the Tattered Prince with the other feigned deserters to tell him that Team Dany will pay his price (meaning Pentos!?) if he switches sides and releases the hostages. The boys are hesitant.

Gerris Drinkwater pushed back his mop of sun-streaked hair. “Might we have some time to discuss this amongst ourselves?”

“No,” said Selmy.

“I’ll do it,” offered Ser Archibald, “just so long as there’s no bloody boats involved. Drink will do it too.” He grinned. “He don’t know it yet, but he will.”

With that Barry takes his leave, reflection on how much Drink annoys him. But he thinks Arch is pretty great, so that’s nice of him.

The rest of the chapter is rather incidental for our purposes. Barry talks to the Green Grace and she totally doesn’t act suspicious at all, and then the Yunkai’i start throwing corpses over the walls.