The best laid plans of Cersei and Jon

[jet199]

Cersei AFFC

At the council table, Harys Swyft gasped, and Grand Maester Pycelle turned away. A buzz filled the air, as if a thousand wasps were loose in the throne room. Some of the ladies in the galleries began to slip away, followed by a stream of petty lords and knights from the back of the hall. The gold cloaks let them go, but the queen had instructed Ser Osfryd to make note of all who fled. Suddenly the Tyrell rose does not smell so sweet.

“Ser Osney is young and lusty, I will grant you,” the queen said, “but a faithful knight for all that. If he says that he was part of this … no, it cannot be. Margaery is a maiden!”

“She is not. I examined her myself, at the behest of His High Holiness. Her maidenhead is not intact. Septa Aglantine and Septa Melicent will say the same, as will Queen Margaery’s own septa, Nysterica, who has been confined to a penitent’s cell for her part in the queen’s shame. Lady Megga and Lady Elinor were examined as well. Both were found to have been broken.”

The wasps were growing so loud that the queen could hardly hear herself think. I do hope the little queen and her cousins enjoyed those rides of theirs.

Lord Merryweather thumped his fist on the table. “Lady Margaery had sworn solemn oaths attesting to her maidenhood, to Her Grace the queen and her late father. Many here bore witness. Lord Tyrell has also testified to her innocence, as has the Lady Olenna, whom we all know to be above reproach. Would you have us believe that all of these noble people lied to us?”

“Perhaps they were deceived as well, my lord,” said Septa Moelle. “I cannot speak to this. I can only swear to the truth of what I discovered for myself when I examined the queen.”

The picture of this sour old crone poking her wrinkled fingers up Margaery’s little pink cunt was so droll that Cersei almost laughed. “We insist that His High Holiness allow our own maesters to examine my good-daughter, to determine if there is any shred of truth to these slanders. Grand Maester Pycelle, you shall accompany Septa Moelle back to Beloved Baelor’s Sept, and return to us with the truth about our Margaery’s maidenhead.”

Pycelle had gone the color of curdled white. At council meetings the wretched old fool cannot say enough, but now that I need a few words from him he has lost the power of words from him he has lost the power of speech, the queen thought, before the old man finally came out with, “There is no need for me to examine her … her privy parts.” His voice was a quaver. “I grieve to say … Queen Margaery is no maiden. She has required me to make her moon tea, not once, but many times.”

The uproar that followed that was all that Cersei Lannister could ever have hoped for.

Even the royal herald beating on the floor with his staff did little to quell the noise. The queen let it wash over her for a few heartbeats, savoring the sounds of the little queen’s disgrace. When it had gone on long enough, she rose stone-faced and commanded that the gold cloaks clear the hall. Margaery Tyrell is done, she thought, exulting. Her white knights fell in around her as she made her exit through the king’s door behind the Iron Throne; Boros Blount, Meryn Trant, and Osmund Kettleblack, the last of the Kingsguard still remaining in the city.

Jon ADWD

But it was large and long enough to seat two hundred, and half again that many if they crowded close. When Jon and Tormund entered, a sound went through the hall, like wasps stirring in a nest. The wildlings outnumbered the crows by five to one, judging by how little black he saw. Fewer than a dozen shields remained, sad grey things with faded paint and long cracks in the wood. But fresh torches burned in the iron sconces along the walls, and Jon had ordered benches and tables brought in. Men with comfortable seats were more inclined to listen, Maester Aemon had once told him; standing men were more inclined to shout.

At the top of the hall a sagging platform stood. Jon mounted it, with Tormund Giantsbane at his side, and raised his hands for quiet. The wasps only buzzed the louder. Then Tormund put his warhorn to his lips and blew a blast. The sound filled the hall, echoing off the rafters overhead. Silence fell.

“I summoned you to make plans for the relief of Hardhome,” Jon Snow began. “Thousands of the free folk are gathered there, trapped and starving, and we have had reports of dead things in the wood.” To his left he saw Marsh and Yarwyck. Othell was surrounded by his builders, whilst Bowen had Wick Whittlestick, Left Hand Lew, and Alf of Runnymudd beside him. To his right, Soren Shieldbreaker sat with his arms crossed against his chest. Farther back, Jon saw Gavin the Trader and Harle the Handsome whispering together. Ygon Oldfather sat amongst his wives, Howd Wanderer alone. Borroq leaned against a wall in a dark corner. Mercifully, his boar was nowhere in evidence.

“The ships I sent to take off Mother Mole and her people have been wracked by storms. We must send what help we can by land or let them die.” Two of Queen Selyse’s knights had come as well, Jon saw. Ser Narbert and Ser Benethon stood near the door at the foot of the hall. But the rest of the queen’s men were conspicuous in their absence.

“I had hoped to lead the ranging myself and bring back as many of the free folk as could survive the journey.” A flash of red in the back of the hall caught Jon’s eye. Lady Melisandre had arrived. “But now I find I cannot go to Hardhome. The ranging will be led by Tormund Giantsbane, known to you all. I have promised him as many men as he requires.”

“And where will you be, crow?” Borroq thundered. “Hiding here in Castle Black with your white dog?”

“No. I ride south.” Then Jon read them the letter Ramsay Snow had written.

The Shieldhall went mad.

Every man began to shout at once. They leapt to their feet, shaking fists. So much for the calming power of comfortable benches. Swords were brandished, axes smashed against shields. Jon Snow looked to Tormund. The Giantsbane sounded his horn once more, twice as long and twice as loud as the first time.

“The Night’s Watch takes no part in the wars of the Seven Kingdoms,” Jon reminded them when some semblance of quiet had returned. “It is not for us to oppose the Bastard of Bolton, to avenge Stannis Baratheon, to defend his widow and his daughter. This creature who makes cloaks from the skins of women has sworn to cut my heart out, and I mean to make him answer for those words … but I will not ask my brothers to forswear their vows.

“The Night’s Watch will make for Hardhome. I ride to Winterfell alone, unless …” Jon paused. “… is there any man here who will come stand with me?”

The roar was all he could have hoped for, the tumult so loud that the two old shields tumbled from the walls. Soren Shieldbreaker was on his feet, the Wanderer as well. Toregg the Tall, Brogg, Harle the Huntsman and Harle the Handsome both, Ygon Oldfather, Blind Doss, even the Great Walrus. I have my swords, thought Jon Snow, and we are coming for you, Bastard.

I found a few similarities between Cersei's damning of Marg and Jon's Shieldhall speech.

I've put the quotes in spoilers because they are long.

The most obvious thing is that they are both playing to the gallery/masses. They want to see public support for what they are doing. They are listening for a public reaction in favour of what they want and went they get that they think they have won (and in both cases they have actually sowed the seeds off their own downfall).

The other thing is hubris. They both refer to people as buzzing wasps (this doesn't happen in the books anywhere else). This shows they see themselves above the ordinary people and aren't interested in them as individuals at that point in time. They both think they can win over almost everyone in one big group and the few people who disagree will be powerless/meaningless.

The use of wasps also indicates danger (why not just buzzing flies?) because the masses can turn on you as easily as they turn towards you. The wasp comparison is probably a foreshadowing of this happening to both Cersei and Jon. In fact it could be that Cersei's downfall is itself a foreshadowing of the ides of Marsh.

Both try to use their power as leaders to get the strength of numbers which should protect them from their opponents. However both underestimate their opponents, especially the power their opponents have as individuals.

[Slender Aimry Hill]

A very perceptive and rare comparison. I like it.

[Dornish Whine]

Its a keen observation, I'll give you that. I like the parallel of both thinking they have won over the crowd, only to have things turn on them quickly. However, I don't think I agree with the other conclusions you have drawn.

The use of 'wasps' as opposed to flies makes sense in a descriptive way, without the implied hubris. Buzzing flies are found around trash, old food, and rotting corpses. Buzzing wasps typically implies incitement, as in "kicking the hornets nest" - which is an apt analogy in both cases. I do not think this qualifies as foreshadowing.

Hard to say whether this was done intentionally by George or not. I figure some repeated imagery in the course of 5000+ pages is bound to occur.

[MoIaF]

Excellent work! I really like the wasps catch, quite interesting.

[Collis]

True. I have the feeling that they are both going to recover from the downfall though--Martin definitely likes to use character redemption, i.e. Jamie or Sandor, rather than just writing them off. If things are going well for them, chances are it will not last long. Plus I think most of us can agree the most powerful learning experiences are those that knock us pretty hard. Hopefully Jon survives his, and I'm pretty sure Cersei is just playing along for now, or will go on a vengeful spree now that Kevan is down.

[Nyrhex]

+1

I like the comparison. Both try and get a reaction that supports thier own agenda, and yet after getting the reaction they wanted, the plans backfire horribly. Forshadowing that like Cersei, Jon (assuming he is saved by his "allies") too would not be the same person he used to be? Both cannot pretend that the past never happend, and cannot try and play ruler after thier last plan was the straw that broke the camel's back.