Operation Stumpy Re-Read
ADWD: The Dragontamer (Quentyn IV) [Chapter 68]
He stared at the candle for a long time, then put down his cup and held his palm above 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.
"Quentyn, are you mad?"
No, just scared. I do not want to burn. "Gerris?"
I know someone who doesn't need this reminder.
"Men say that freezing to death is almost peaceful. Fire, though … do you see the candle, Gilly?"
She looked at the flame. "Yes."
"Touch it. Put your hand over the flame."
Her big brown eyes grew bigger still. She did not move.
"Do it." Kill the boy. "Now."
Trembling, the girl reached out her hand, held it well above the flickering candle flame.
"Down. Let it kiss you."
Gilly lowered her hand. An inch. Another. When the flame licked her flesh, she snatched her hand back and began to sob.
"Fire is a cruel way to die. Dalla died to give this child life, but you have nourished him, cherished him. You saved your own boy from the ice. Now save hers from the fire." - Jon II, ADWD
+.+.+
"I could not sleep."
"Are burns a cure for that? Some warm milk and a lullaby might serve you well. Or better still, I could take you to the Temple of the Graces and find a girl for you."
"A whore, you mean."
"They call them Graces. They come in different colors. The red ones are the only ones who fuck."
"If His Grace wishes for me to remove myself from court …"
"His Radiance," the seneschal corrected. - The Queensguard, ADWD
x
"Might I know which men His Grace has chosen to protect him?" - The Queensguard, ADWD
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When His Grace had tried to put them under the command of a cousin, as he had the Brazen Beasts, Grey Worm had informed the king that they were free men who took commands only from their mother. - The Queensguard, ADWD
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"May they defend His Grace against all threats." [...]
"His Magnificence," Reznak mo Reznak stressed. - The Queensguard, ADWD
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"I am His Grace's to command."
"Not Grace," the seneschal complained. "That style is Westerosi. His Magnificence, His Radiance, His Worship." - The Queensguard, ADWD
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"Your Grace," Ser Barristan called out. - The Discarded Knight, ADWD
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The box was his, though. His Grace made all the arrangements. - The Discarded Knight, ADWD
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If His Grace needs a poisoner, he will look to you. - The Discarded Knight, ADWD
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His Grace keeps two men by him when he sleeps. - The Kingbreaker, ADWD
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"None, Your Grace."
Hizdahr sighed. "'Your Magnificence,' please. - The Kingbreaker, ADWD
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"Dreams can lie, Your Grace."
"'Your Radiance' would serve. - The Kingbreaker, ADWD
x
"Where does the seneschal want His Grace to go?" - The Kingbreaker, ADWD
+.+.+
"I disagree. Daenerys Targaryen is not the only woman in the world. Do you want to die a man-maid?"
Quentyn did not want to die at all. I want to go back to Yronwood and kiss both of 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.
Well that was painful to read.
Go home, Quentyn.
+.+.+
"Do you think Daenerys would be pleased to hear that I had bedded some whore?"
"She might be. Men may be fond of maidens, but women like a man who knows what he's about in the bedchamber. It's another sort of swordplay. Takes training to be good at it."
Love that we're all thinking the exact same thing.
+.+.+
"You cannot marry her. She has a husband."
"She does not love Hizdahr zo Loraq."
Hey Quentyn, was Rhaegar any less married because he didn't love Elia?
+.+.+
"What has love to do with marriage? A prince should know better. Your father married for love, it's said. How much joy has he had of that?"
Doran Martell and his Norvoshi wife had spent half their marriage apart and the other half arguing. It was the only rash thing his father had ever done, to hear some tell it, the only time he had followed his heart instead of his head, and he had lived to rue it. "Not all risks lead to ruin," he insisted.
Man, lately the author has been aggressively driving home the point about love being poison.
<- The Kingbreaker, ADWD
Prince Rhaegar loved his Lady Lyanna, and thousands died for it. Daemon Blackfyre loved the first Daenerys, and rose in rebellion when denied her. Bittersteel and Bloodraven both loved Shiera Seastar, and the Seven Kingdoms bled. The Prince of Dragonflies loved Jenny of Oldstones so much he cast aside a crown, and Westeros paid the bride price in corpses. All three of the sons of the fifth Aegon had wed for love, in defiance of their father's wishes. And because that unlikely monarch had himself followed his heart when he chose his queen, he allowed his sons to have their way, making bitter enemies where he might have had fast friends. Treason and turmoil followed, as night follows day, ending at Summerhall in sorcery, fire, and grief.
Her love for Daario is poison. A slower poison than the locusts, but in the end as deadly. - The Kingbreaker, ADWD
I'm convinced! I bet he's as pessimistic about love as every bad guy in the story would have us believe.
+.+.+
"This is my duty. My destiny." 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. "This will be my grand adventure."
"Men die on grand adventures."
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.
In this story the princess rejects the frog prince, then the dragon burns him alive.
Adventure stank. - The Merchant's Man, ADWD
+.+.+
Quentyn sucked at the burned spot on his palm. "Dorne remembers Aegon and his sisters. Dragons are not so easily forgotten. They will remember Daenerys as well."
I don't doubt it.
+.+.+
"Not if she's died."
"She lives." She must. "She is lost, but I can find her." And when I do, she will look at me the way she looks at her sellsword. Once I have proven myself worthy of her.
"From dragonback?"
"I have been riding horses since I was six years old."
Mounted on the dragon's back, she oft felt as if she were learning to ride all over again. When she whipped her silver mare on her right flank the mare went left, for a horse's first instinct is to flee from danger. When she laid the whip across Drogon's right side he veered right, for a dragon's first instinct is always to attack. - Daenerys X, ADWD
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"I'll hear no more of this. You have my leave to go. Find a ship and run home, Gerris." The prince rose, blew the candle out, and crept back to his bed and its sweat-soaked linen sheets. 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.
He doesn't seem that confident to me.
+.+.+
He could hear the rain falling outside, drumming against the bricks.
By the time the hour of the wolf crept upon them, the rain was falling steadily, slashing down in a hard, cold torrent that would soon turn the brick streets of Meereen into rivers.
Oh good, rain usually foretells positive things in this series.
+.+.+
Fire and water don't mix, and that's a fact. You get a good cookfire lit, blazing away nice, then it starts to piss down rain and next thing your wood is sodden and your flames are dead.
Gerris chuckled. "Dragons are not made of wood, Arch."
"Some are. That old King Aegon, the randy one, he built wooden dragons to conquer us. That ended bad, though."
I find this exchange extremely odd. It sticks out.
+.+.+
They do not understand. They may be Dornish, but I am Dorne. Years from now, when I am dead, this will be the song they sing of me. He rose abruptly. "It's time."
Hun, you're not even the heir to Dorne.
Better hope that song doesn't provoke laughter.
+.+.+
Within were three long hooded cloaks made from myriad small squares of cloth sewn together, three cudgels, three shortswords, three masks of polished brass. A bull, a lion, and an ape.
Everything required to be a Brazen Beast.
Any thoughts on these animals?
+.+.+
"How did you learn their word ["dog"]?"
"We chanced upon some Brazen Beasts and Meris asked them prettily. But a prince should know better than to pose such questions, Dornish. In Pentos, we have a saying. Never ask the baker what went into the pie. Just eat."
Or Wyman Manderly.
+.+.+
"I'll be the bull," Arch announced.
Quentyn handed him the bull mask. "The lion for me."
"Which makes a monkey out of me." Gerris pressed the ape mask to his face.
Remember in The Merchant's Son when Gerris and Quentyn changed roles?
I think they should change masks.
+.+.+
The quartered carcass of an ox filled the wagon bed, along with two dead sheep. Half a dozen men entered afoot. Five wore the cloaks and masks of Brazen Beasts, but Pretty Meris had not troubled to disguise herself. "Where is your lord?" he asked Meris.
The Windblown sellswords disguise themselves as Brazen Beasts to get to the dragons.
Quentyn seems rather nonchalant about the huge woman not bothering to disguise herself. What a pointless risk.
+.+.+
Ser Archibald was giving the butcher's wagon the sour eye. "Will that cart be big enough to hold a dragon?" he asked.
The plan is to get the dragons out of the pyramid by chaining them to a butcher's wagon.
There are no words to express how stupid this feels.
+.+.+
"We were told these beasts are smaller than the queen's monster."
"The pit has slowed their growth." Quentyn's readings had suggested that the same thing had occurred in the Seven Kingdoms. None of the dragons bred and raised in the Dragonpit of King's Landing had ever approached the size of Vhagar or Meraxes, much less that of the Black Dread, King Aegon's monster. "Have you brought sufficient chains?"
The queen's monster, lol.
Only a monster would give a living child to the flames. - Jon I, ADWD
I can't speak to the accuracy of this. Aren't there competing theories within the universe over why they shrunk?
+.+.+
Four Brazen Beasts stood guarding the door. Three held long spears; the fourth, the serjeant, was armed with short sword and dagger. His mask was wrought in the shape of a basilisk's head. The other three were masked as insects.
Locusts, Quentyn realized. "Dog," he said.
The serjeant stiffened.
That was all it took for Quentyn Martell to realize that something had gone awry.
Déjà vu! Wrong word, Quentyn.
<- The Kingbreaker, ADWD
Six Brazen Beasts were with him. All were masked as insects, identical to one another.
Locusts, Selmy realized. "Groleo," he said.
+.+.+
The basilisk's blade had scarce slipped from its leather sheath when the hammer's spike slammed into his temple, crunching through the thin brass of his mask and the flesh and bone beneath. The serjeant staggered sideways half a step before his knees folded under him and he sank down to the floor, his whole body shaking grotesquely.
Quentyn stared transfixed, his belly roiling. His own blade was still in its sheath. He had not so much as reached for it. His eyes were locked on the serjeant dying before him, jerking. The fallen torch was on the floor, guttering, making every shadow leap and twist in a monstrous mockery of the dead man's shaking. The prince never saw the locust's spear coming toward him until Gerris slammed into him, knocking him aside. The spearpoint grazed the cheek of the lion's head he wore. Even then the blow was so violent it almost tore the mask off. It would have gone right through my throat, the prince thought, dazed.
Look, he's doing an Aegon!
The boy stood staring, as still as if he too were made of stone. His hand was on his sword hilt, but he seemed to have forgotten why. - Tyrion V, ADWD
And both will burn, isn't that cute? Cousins. ❤️
+.+.+
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."
Almost like "fire and blood" will never be the answer.
+.+.+
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.
Do you see how her thoughtless little test got us to this point? Stupid idiot (both of them).
Then he will die here, Daenerys thought, unless there is more to him than I can see. "Is he still within?"
"Drinking with his knights."
"Bring him to me. It is time he met my children." - Daenerys VII, ADWD
+.+.+
Gerris handed him a torch. He stepped through the doors.
We have a torch sighting!
"The flames will burn so long as you live," he heard Cersei call. "When they die, so must you." - Jaime VI, ADWD
+.+.+
Rhaegal was chained to the wall and floor the last time I was here, the prince recalled, but Viserion hung from the ceiling. Quentyn stepped back, lifted the torch, craned his head back.
For a moment he saw only the blackened arches of the bricks above, scorched by dragonflame. A trickle of ash caught his eye, betraying movement. Something pale, half-hidden, stirring. He's made himself a cave, the prince realized. A burrow in the brick. The foundations of the Great Pyramid of Meereen were massive and thick to support the weight of the huge structure overhead; even the interior walls were three times thicker than any castle's curtain walls. But Viserion had dug himself a hole in them with flame and claw, a hole big enough to sleep in.
Lots of people have speculated that Viserion is nesting, so he (?) may lay eggs. I'm not sure what the point of that would be.
Not to mention, as far as we know, Viserion is a male and they can't change their sex.
As Archmaester Gyldayn notes in his fragmentary history, there is no record that Vermax ever laid so much as a single egg, suggesting the dragon was male. The belief that dragons could change sex at need is erroneous, according to Maester Anson's Truth, rooted in a misunderstanding of the esoteric metaphor that Barth preferred when discussing the higher mysteries. - The World of Ice and Fire
Viserion (Daenerys) breaking his chains, and attempting to claw himself out is symbolic. It's not that deep.
"This one heard the Astapori scratching at the walls last night," the little scribe said as she was washing Dany's back.
Irri and Jhiqui exchanged a look. "No one was scratching," said Jhiqui. "Scratching … how could they scratch?"
"With their hands," said Missandei. "The bricks are old and crumbling. They are trying to claw their way into the city."
"This would take them many years," said Irri. "The walls are very thick. This is known."
"It is known," agreed Jhiqui.
"I dream of them as well." Dany took Missandei's hand. "The camp is a good half-mile from the city, my sweetling. No one was scratching at the walls." - Daenerys VI, ADWD
+.+.+
Viserion launched himself from the ceiling, pale leather wings unfolding, spreading wide. The broken chain dangling from his neck swung wildly. His flame lit the pit, pale gold shot through with red and orange, and the stale air exploded in a cloud of hot ash and sulfur as the white wings beat and beat again.
A hand seized Quentyn by the shoulder. The torch spun from his grip to bounce across the floor, then tumbled into the pit, still burning. He found himself face-to-face with a brass ape. Gerris. "Quent, this will not work. They are too wild, they …"
Oops, there goes Quentyn's torch.
Gerris is a good lad.
+.+.+
Last and longest the beast stared at Pretty Meris, sniffing. 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 that why the author hasn't disguised her?
+.+.+
When the Windblown were too late to get out of his way, Viserion let loose with another roar. Quentyn heard the rattle of chains, the deep thrum of a crossbow.
"No," he screamed, "no, don't, don't," but it was too late. The fool was all that he had time to think as the quarrel caromed off Viserion's neck to vanish in the gloom. A line of fire gleamed in its wake—dragon's blood, glowing gold and red.
The crossbowman was fumbling for another quarrel as the dragon's teeth closed around his neck. The man wore the mask of a Brazen Beast, the fearsome likeness of a tiger. As he dropped his weapon to try and pry apart Viserion's jaws, flame gouted from the tiger's mouth. The man's eyes burst with soft popping sounds, and the brass around them began to run. The dragon tore off a hunk of flesh, most of the sellsword's neck, then gulped it down as the burning corpse collapsed to the floor.
That's probably not great news for Volantis.
George saves his most stomach-churning writing for the dragons, it's great.
+.+.+
"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.
+.+.+
And then a hot wind buffeted him and he heard the sound of leathern wings and the air was full of ash and cinders and a monstrous roar went echoing off the scorched and blackened bricks and he could hear his friends shouting wildly. Gerris was calling out his name, over and over, and the big man was bellowing, "Behind you, behind you, behind you!"
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.
We love Dragon x Other parallels!
It slid away from Paul's axe, armor rippling, and its crystal sword twisted and spun and slipped between the iron rings of Paul's mail, through leather and wool and bone and flesh. It came out his back with a hissssssssssss and Sam heard Paul say, "Oh," as he lost the axe. Impaled, his blood smoking around the sword, the big man tried to reach his killer with his hands and almost had before he fell. - Samwell I, ADWD
Thus concludes the story of Quentyn Martell.
If you spotted any reason why Quaithe would be warning Daenerys about this supposed "sun's son" feel free to point it out, cause I got nothing.
Final thoughts:
You need to familiarize yourselves with this theory, because it's one of the all-time best (worst).
Half a million views! Lol.
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