Episode 34: A GAME OF THRONES, CATELYN VI: "Mountain High, Valley Low"

Hello and welcome to the Not A Cast … podcast: the one true chapter-by-chapter podcast going through A Song of Ice and Fire one chapter a week. I’m one of your hosts Jeff better known as BryndenBFish. 

And I’m your other host Emmett, better known as PoorQuentyn. 

Welcome to our thirty-fourth episode of the Not A Cast entitled: “Mountain High, Valley Low: An Analysis of AGOT, Catelyn VI,” in which Catelyn Stark makes it out of the Mountains of the Moon to the Vale proper...only to have to climb yet another mountain. She just can’t win, despite doing nothing wrong, ever. This episode is brought to you all by our Lords Commander Mark N, Timothy W, Hayden J and WolfmanZack. Thank you, gentlemen!

Spoiler warning: All published books - 5 novels, 3 Dunk and Egg novellas, histories, interviews, TWOW sample chapters, as well as Game of Thrones the TV show. Anything and everything!

Question

Initial Reactions to the Fire and Blood sample. Talk about our patreon plans in November with a full-out review of F&B. And also the GRRM event in Jersey City on November 19th.

Ser Grant the Scribe asks:

What curveballs do you think George will throw into TWOW? Like Quentyn & Aegon in Dance… think we get unexpected

Synopsis

Ser Donnel Waynwood gives Catelyn Stark a chilly greeting, letting her know that she should have sent word that they were coming, and, oh, BTW, did you know that the high road is not safe anymore? Yeah. I think Catelyn knows. 6 men had died bringing her nearly to the Bloody Gate. But it’s more sad than even that. Her memories of them were fading. She was having a hard time recalling their names. But the danger had made it hard to remember anything.

In fact, they had thought that Donnel’s party was their doom. Instead they’d been their salvation. Donnel ruminates on how he’d take 100 knights up into the mountains to teach the clansmen a “sharp lesson”, but Lysa has forbidden her knights from leaving the Vale of Arryn. And Donnel really isn’t quite sure why they’re all up there, doing nothing. What are they defending the Vale from?

Catelyn thinks that it’s the Lannisters, but she keeps her tongue about her. She glances behind and sees Tyrion and Bronn behind them. The dwarf had survived the journey and proved cunningtoo. And she’s troubled by Bronn’s companionship with Tyrion. But now 40 men are around Catelyn’s now-smaller party. Still, Tyrion seemed strangely unafraid.

Could I be wrong? Catelyn wonders not for the first time. Could he be innocent after all, of Bran and Jon Arryn and all the rest? And if he was, what did that make her? Six men had died to bring him here.

But she pushes her doubts away, telling Donnel that she needs Maester Colemon to treat the wounds of Ser Rodrik. Well, that’s not going to fly. Colemon has been ordered to remain at the Eyrie, but a Septon is at the Bloody Gate. He can tend Ser Rodrik. But though Catelyn was wary of the power of prayer in healing Ser Rodrik, she doesn’t see an alternative. 

Up ahead, the Bloody Gate looms against a narrow pass in the mountains. A knight rides out from the gate with a cloak of Tully red and blue and a shiny black fish in gold and obsidian pinning the cloak at the shoulder. The badass, amazing knight asks who’s attempting to pass the Bloody Gate. Donnel says it’s a-me Donnel Waynwoodio and also Catelyn Stark and her companions.

The man lifts his visor and speaks with a hoarse, smoky voice. I thought the lady looked familiar. You are far from home, Little Cat.

That voice belongs to none other than Ser Brynden Tully, Catelyn’s uncle. She smiles, telling him that Brynden’s home is in her heart. She asks that he remove his helmet. He does, warning her that age hasn’t improved his appearance. But he’s lying. Though he’s older with grey hair that replaced his auburn, he still looks the gallant man Catelyn had last seen him as.

Brynden asks if Cat has sent word to Lysa. No. There wasn’t enough time. But, uh, she’s bringing the storm anyways. Sorry about that. Donnel asks if they can pass, and Brynden gives them entry. As they cross the gate, we get some backstory on the bloody gate: a dozen armies had dashed themselves against the Bloody Gate. Hm, potential for some interesting stuff there. We’ll get to that!

Beyond the gate, Catelyn sees a wide valley open up. It’s lush, green and bordered by tall mountains. And though the land was at a high elevation, it was still a fertile land. Catelyn stops to admire the scene before her, and Brynden comes up and points out where the Eyrie is. Way up there in the mountains. And then we get Catelyn’s poetic side:

Seven towers, Ned had told her, like white daggers thrust into the belly of the sky, so high you can stand on the parapets and look down on the clouds.

You get the real sense that George is in love with this place, because he is really going to indulge in his descriptions in this chapter. Brynden states that they can be up to the base of the mountain by evening but warns it would take another day to get all the way up the Eyrie. Rodrik informs everyone that he’s too wounded to go further. So, Catelyn gives him leave to remain at the Bloody Gate and rest up. Brynden, Catelyn and Tyrion will head on up. Actually, scratch that. Marillion wants to come too. Oh, and yeah. Bronn too. He’s #InIt2WinIt. Catelyn sighs at all of them and agrees to their company. Fresh mounts gotten, the party sets off for the Eyrie. 

As they progress, Brynden asks Catelyn about this so-called storm she’s bringing, and Catelyn tells all. Brynden listens silently, his frown spreading across his face. This leads Catelyn to give us some Brynden Tully backstory. Five years younger than Hoster, he’d been fighting his brother since as long as Catelyn can remember. Catelyn remembers how he got his “Blackfish” moniker. It came when Hoster and Brynden were arguing, and Hoster declared that Brynden was the black goat of House Tully, and Brynden had replied that a black fish would be more fitting. He’d taken the personal coat of arms since that day. The two brothers had only reconciled at Lysa’s wedding to Jon Arryn when Brynden announced that he would heading out to serve Lysa at Riverrun. Hoster and Brynden hadn’t spoken since.

Your father must be told. If the Lannisters should march, Winterfell is remote, and the Vale walled up behind its mountains, but Riverrun lies right in their path.

Catelyn had similar fears. And what’s the mood of the Vale? she asks her uncle. Everyone is angry. It’s not just that they’re pissed about Jaime being named Warden of the East. They also think that Jon Arryn was murdered -- though they’re not saying it out loud. And then there’s Sweetrobin.

He’s 6, sickly and perhaps too weak to take his father’s seat as Lord Arryn. Worse still, Lysa isn’t helping things. She’s holding out on a potential new marriage for some odd reason. And while no one can fault her, Brynden believes that Lysa is playing at being open to marriage. Perhaps she intends to Cersei it on up in the Eyrie and rule in her son’s name before he reaches his maturation.

But that’s not all that’s going wrong in the Vale. Lysa is cray. Her marriage wasn’t happy and she’d had stillborns and miscarriages. And she only lives for that sickly child and is always afraid for him -- afraid of what the Lannisters are up to or something. Oh, and you brought a Lannister to her doorstep. Not great, Catelyn. And your protests that he’s here as a captive are belied by the fact that he’s holding an axe.

But then we’re back on the road and finally in the valley. And up ahead, the Gates of the Moon loom. By the time they make it there though, it’s dark. But no worries. They sent someone ahead, and they can be let up, but before that, look up Catelyn. Aw yeah, it’s time for George to describe some shit.

Catelyn raised her eyes, up and up and up. At first, all she saw was stone and trees, the looming mass of the great mountain shrouded in night, as black as a starless sky. Then she noticed the glow of distant fires well above them; a tower keep, built upon the steep side of mountain, its lights like orange eyes staring down from above.

Just gorgeous, George. You get a cookie. Tyrion’s also looking up:

The Arryns must not be overfond of company. If you’re planning to make us climb that mountain the dark, I’d rather you kill me here.

But how will they get up the mountain? Mules up the first part. And then they’ll need to take steps carved into the face of the mountain. After that, they’ll need to go by foot or basket up the last bit of the way. Tyrion says that he’ll go by foot if Catelyn is planning to go that route. He’s got that Lannister pride. That provokes and angry retort from Catelyn that it’s not pride. It’s arrogance. Tyrion shoots back that he’s not arrogant. That’s Jaime. Whereas, he’s as innocent as a little lamb.

But the drawbridge comes down, and Lord Nestor Royce, High Steward of the Vale and Keeper of the Gates of the Moon greets them. Catelyn asks for Nestor’s hospitality. He gives it. But, uh, yeah, Lysa wants you to head up the Eyrie quick fast and in a hurry. In the fucking dark? Brynden asks. That’s madness. They’ll break their necks.

The mules know the way, Ser Brynden, a 17 year old girl says, stepping out from the dark and into our hearts.

Aw yeah. It’s Mya Stone. She’ll get Catelyn up, no worries. Her boyfriend Mychel says that Mya is half a goat. And she hasn’t failed Nestor Royce yet.

Well, Catelyn will trust Mya then. Tyrion will remain with Nestor. Anyways, they’re off after that. Up through pines and … hey Catelyn, don’t hold the reins of the mule so tight. And no, we won’t hold torches. They just blind the mules. 

But time for a little love chat. Who’s that Mychel, Catelyn asks. He’s Mya’s one true love. He’s Mychel of House Redfort. Well, Catelyn engages in a little mix of class snobbery and realism. She can’t marry Mychel. He’s of a higher social class and old houses don’t marry bastards. But Catelyn thinks that Mya talking about Mychel sounds familiar. She sounds like Sansa.

But we’re back to ascending the dark mountain. Catelyn grows more afraid, but the mules prove surefooted. And then we’re up to our next way-castle known as Stone. Inside, skewers of meat and onions are brought to her, and she eats. They receive new mounts, and they’re off again. But because this is getting a bit long, let’s just sketch out a few details until Catelyn gets into the Eyrie:

• They get to the next castle known as Snow. They stay only for a minute before heading on with new mules.
• The wind picks up above. Catelyn keeps looking up.
• They approach a saddle and have to cross. Catelyn is terrified, but Mya helps her through.
• Catelyn arrives at Sky waycastle, and there’s snow here. The Eyrie is close now. 600 feet above them. Catelyn is exhausted and terrified. She asks to be taken up by basket the rest of the way.

Sorry, there’s a lot of beautiful imagery in the scenes, but this is a loooooooonnnnnnnnnnng chapter! Okay. So in the Eyrie, Catelyn is greeted by Vardis Eadon who says that he’ll send word to rouse Lysa. Vardis escorts Catelyn to Lysa who’s awaiting Catelyn in her solar.

Lysa pretends to be happy to see Catelyn, but Catelyn sees that the five years since she last saw her sister have been rough to her. Lysa had grown heavy and pale while her blue eyes are rummy and never still. Catelyn lies and says that Lysa looks well but tired. Lysa notices the others around her and dismisses them.

And then Lysa goes apeshit on Cat. She yells at Catelyn, demanding to know why Catelyn has brought her quarrels with the Lannisters to the Vale. Catelyn is mystified. Well, goddamn, they’re only my quarrels, because you sent that fucking letter, Lysa. You know the one. The one where you said Jon Arryn had been poisoned. That ain’t Lysa’s story. According to Lysa, she sent the letter to warn Catelyn to stay away from the quarrels of Westeros. Shitty way of warning the Starks to stay away, Lysa. 

But Lysa is interrupted from speaking further by the appearance of the Lord of the Eyrie. Robert “Sweetrobin” Arryn enters the scene and immediately shows us that not all kids are cute. Sick, weak and trembling, Lysa introduces him to Catelyn, saying that this is the kid that Jon Arryn was talking about when he was saying “The seed is strong.”

Uh, sure. Anyways, we should really get back to the Lannisters. They could … Not in front of the baby! But, Lysa, he’s not just a kid. He’s the Lord of the Eyrie. There’s no time for delicacy. The Lannisters are … Quiet! You’re scaring him!

Good Lord, Lysa. Catelyn is angry and rightfully so. Shit is fucked up in Westeros, and the Vale is in the hands of this kid? It’s troubling. But let’s get bizarre shall we? Lysa pops her breast out of her gown, and Robert Arryn begins feeding at Lysa’s breast. Oh man. This is weirder and worse than Catelyn thought. And though Lysa’s all We’re safe here, Catelyn knows better. No one is safe from the Lannisters.

But what is Lysa to do with Tyrion Lannister now that Catelyn has so rudely brought the child to the Vale? Sweetrobin asks if he’s a bad man. When Lysa replies in the affirmative, Sweetrobin has a thought:

Make him fly.

Perhaps they would, Lysa assures the boy.

And that is AGOT, Catelyn VI: a long chapter, full of glorious worldbuilding and fucked up character moments with Lysa and Sweetrobin. What did you think, Emmett? 

Depth

Catelyn VI is something of an oddball. All of her chapters to date have been fairly plot-centric: the death of Jon Arryn in Catelyn I, Lysa’s accusation that the Lannisters killed him in Catelyn II, the catspaw attack in Catelyn III, Littlefinger framing Tyrion for it in Catelyn IV, and Catelyn snatching up Tyrion in response in Catelyn V. This one, as you say, is far more focused on worldbuilding and character introductions, but it does so in such exquisite fashion that I wouldn’t call it a step down. Like the earlier chapters in the book introducing us to Winterfell and the Targaryens in exile, GRRM very easily could’ve messed this up, and a lot can only go right later because he pulled this off. [Nerdy rant about which kingdoms get the most chapters here]

• Deliverance after devastation
  • Ser Donnel Waynwood, with his blustery assertions and his standing on ceremony, represents the world of feudalism upon which Catelyn bet the house in her last POV chapter
    • "The clans have grown bolder since Lord Jon died," Ser Donnel said. He was a stocky youth of twenty years, earnest and homely, with a wide nose and a shock of thick brown hair. "If it were up to me, I would take a hundred men into the mountains, root them out of their fastnesses, and teach them some sharp lessons, but your sister has forbidden it.”
    • “May we enter the Vale?” Ser Donnel asked. The Waynwoods were ever ones for ceremony.
  • But now she’s feeling semi-regretful about that given the hardships of the journey, so Donnel is emphasized as hollow: the image post-disillusionment
  • As with Ser Waymar and Ser Hugh, the knights of the Vale are used to represent the chivalric image in freefall (careful, Sansa!) 
  • But there’s also a genuine sense of relief and refreshment, both in the Vale of Arryn itself, done up by GRRM like a landscape painting or a splash page…
    • On the far side of the stoneworks, the mountains opened up suddenly upon a vista of green fields, blue sky, and snowcapped mountains that took her breath away. The Vale of Arryn bathed in the morning light.
      
      It stretched before them to the misty east, a tranquil land of rich black soil, wide slow-moving rivers, and hundreds of small lakes that shone like mirrors in the sun, protected on all sides by its sheltering peaks. Wheat and corn and barley grew high in its fields, and even in Highgarden the pumpkins were no larger nor the fruit any sweeter than here. They stood at the western end of the valley, where the high road crested the last pass and began its winding descent to the bottomlands two miles below. The Vale was narrow here, no more than a half day's ride across, and the northern mountains seemed so close that Catelyn could almost reach out and touch them. Looming over them all was the jagged peak called the Giant's Lance, a mountain that even mountains looked up to, its head lost in icy mists three and a half miles above the valley floor. Over its massive western shoulder flowed the ghost torrent of Alyssa's Tears. Even from this distance, Catelyn could make out the shining silver thread, bright against the dark stone.
      
      When her uncle saw that she had stopped, he moved his horse closer and pointed. "It's there, beside Alyssa's Tears. All you can see from here is a flash of white every now and then, if you look hard and the sun hits the walls just right."
      
      Seven towers, Ned had told her, like white daggers thrust into the belly of the sky, so high you can stand on the parapets and look down on the clouds.
  • ...or in the man of the hour, Brynden Blackfish.
    • The Knight of the Gate lifted his visor. "I thought the lady looked familiar. You are far from home, little Cat."

"And you, Uncle," she said, smiling despite all she had been through. Hearing that hoarse, smoky voice again took her back twenty years, to the days of her childhood.

• "Your home is in my heart," Catelyn told him. "Take off your helm. I would look on your face again."
  
  "The years have not improved it, I fear," Brynden Tully said, but when he lifted off the helm, Catelyn saw that he lied. His features were lined and weathered, and time had stolen the auburn from his hair and left him only grey, but the smile was the same, and the bushy eyebrows fat as caterpillars, and the laughter in his deep blue eyes.
  
  Nonetheless, during all those years of Catelyn's girlhood, it had been Brynden the Blackfish to whom Lord Hoster's children had run with their tears and their tales, when Father was too busy and Mother too ill. Catelyn, Lysa, Edmure … and yes, even Petyr Baelish, their father's ward … he had listened to them all patiently, as he listened now, laughing at their triumphs and sympathizing with their childish misfortunes. 
• The stormclouds on the mountain
  • All sense of reassurance and safety fade when the conversation turns to Lysa…
    • “She would not even permit her knights to fight in the Hand’s tourney. She wants all our swords kept close to home, to defend the Vale . . . against what, no one is certain. Shadows, some say.”
    • “A woman can rule as wisely as a man," Catelyn said.
      
      "The right woman can," her uncle said with a sideways glance. "Make no mistake, Cat. Lysa is not you." He hesitated a moment. "If truth be told, I fear you may not find your sister as … helpful as you would like."
      
      She was puzzled. "What do you mean?"
      
      "The Lysa who came back from King's Landing is not the same girl who went south when her husband was named Hand. Those years were hard for her. You must know. Lord Arryn was a dutiful husband, but their marriage was made from politics, not passion."
      
      "As was my own."
      
      "They began the same, but your ending has been happier than your sister's. Two babes stillborn, twice as many miscarriages, Lord Arryn's death … Catelyn, the gods gave Lysa only the one child, and he is all your sister lives for now, poor boy. Small wonder she fled rather than see him handed over to the Lannisters. Your sister is afraid, child, and the Lannisters are what she fears most. She ran to the Vale, stealing away from the Red Keep like a thief in the night, and all to snatch her son out of the lion's mouth … and now you have brought the lion to her door." 
  • ...and her beloved baby boy:
    • "Lord Robert," he sighed. "Six years old, sickly, and prone to weep if you take his dolls away. Jon Arryn's trueborn heir, by all the gods, yet there are some who say he is too weak to sit his father's seat. Nestor Royce has been high steward these past fourteen years, while Lord Jon served in King's Landing, and many whisper that he should rule until the boy comes of age. Others believe that Lysa must marry again, and soon.” 
  • The impression is one of disorder and uncertainty, all the material lushness and proud history of the Vale thrown into disarray by a power vacuum
  • “Lysa is not you”...and despite being both named for the king, Robert is no Robb
  • It’s not dissimilar to the chaos that reigns in KL in the wake of Robert’s death, with Lysa playing Cersei, Sweetrobin playing Joffrey, and no one to play Tyrion
  • GRRM is also delving into the imagery that will dominate AFFC: 
    • “Already the suitors gather like crows on a battlefield.” 
  • So Catelyn, seeking a place of safety, has just walked onto another battlefield
  • And as the Blackfish notes, Tyrion suddenly feels less and less like a prisoner
    • Her uncle glanced back, to where Tyrion Lannister was making his slow descent behind them. "I see an axe on his saddle, a dirk at his belt, and a sellsword that trails after him like a hungry shadow. Where are the chains, sweet one?" 
  • The Blackfish also frames Lysa as a fearful victim, rather than an instigator
  • This again undercuts the image of the Giant’s Lance as the mountain that all mountains look up to, but it’s worth noting that Nuncle Brynden is dead wrong
  • Lysa’s genuinely afraid for Sweetrobin, but she fled on LF’s instructions and will keep on covering for him throughout this storyline
  • So when you return to these early Vale chapters, it’s important to remember that this is not true disorder, but controlled chaos. LF is keeping the Vale on ice.
• The Climb
  • One more look up to establish it, from the appropriately titled Gates of the Moon:
    • Catelyn raised her eyes, up and up and up. At first all she saw was stone and trees, the looming mass of the great mountain shrouded in night, as black as a starless sky. Then she noticed the glow of distant fires well above them; a tower keep, built upon the steep side of the mountain, its lights like orange eyes staring down from above. Above that was another, higher and more distant, and still higher a third, no more than a flickering spark in the sky. And finally, up where the falcons soared, a flash of white in the moonlight. Vertigo washed over her as she stared upward at the pale towers, so far above. 
    • Is this potentially a 2001: A Space Odyssey reference? There’s a POV shot looking up the monolith from its base to the moon in the sky above
  • For me, this climb is a metaphor for the overall project and positioning of nobility, building on the themes brought up earlier about how the chapter begins 
  • You climb high, building as you go, mastering your surroundings, but at every step of the way you leave more and more behind
  • At the top, the wealth returns, but it’s austere and empty and cold, halls to wander lonely: no gods taking root, daggers scratching at the sky
  • Your defenses trap you, your power numbs you, and bit by bit you go mad
  • Hell, it’s a climb being taken with unnecessary danger, just so Lysa can yell at Catelyn ASAP about endangering her! The folly of the entire class captured
  • We’re being shown what happened to Lysa, what could happen to Catelyn, how pointless Littlefinger’s own climb really is. I tried to grasp a star, overreached…
  • And so of course, our noble lady is guided up by a bastard the king left behind
    • "The mules know the way, Ser Brynden." A wiry girl of seventeen or eighteen years stepped up beside Lord Nestor. Her dark hair was cropped short and straight around her head, and she wore riding leathers and a light shirt of silvered ringmail. She bowed to Catelyn, more gracefully than her lord. "I promise you, my lady, no harm will come to you. It would be my honor to take you up. I've made the dark climb a hundred times. Mychel says my father must have been a goat."
  • Catelyn roots her bravery in her noble blood…
    • “I was born a Tully and wed to a Stark,” Catelyn said. “I do not frighten easily. Do you plan to light a torch?”
  • ...but despite Mya’s naivete about Mychel Redfort (again the themes of the climb), she navigates the heights because of connections to nature: goat and owl
  • At first, nature is kind: 
    • The ascent was easier than Catelyn had dared hope. The trees pressed close, leaning over the path to make a rustling green roof that shut out even the moon, so it seemed as though they were moving up a long black tunnel. But the mules were surefooted and tireless, and Mya Stone did indeed seem blessed with night-eyes. They plodded upward, winding their way back and forth across the face of the mountain as the steps twisted and turned. A thick layer of fallen needles carpeted the path, so the shoes of their mules made only the softest sound on the rock. The quiet soothed her, and the gentle rocking motion set Catelyn to swaying in her saddle. Before long she was fighting sleep. 
  • And at Stone (solid reliable stone...like Mya Stone), the courtesies persist: 
    • Inside, the portly knight who commanded the waycastle greeted Mya by name and offered them skewers of charred meat and onions still hot from the spit.
  • But the habits are dying for Catelyn: 
    • Catelyn had not realized how hungry she was. She ate standing in the yard, as stablehands moved their saddles to fresh mules. The hot juices ran down her chin and dripped onto her cloak, but she was too famished to care. 
  • And as you climb the ladder, your surroundings become more perilous and unforgiving...
    • The second part of the ascent seemed more treacherous to Catelyn. The trail was steeper, the steps more worn, and here and there littered with pebbles and broken stone. Mya had to dismount a half-dozen times to move fallen rocks from their path. "You don't want your mule to break a leg up here," she said. Catelyn was forced to agree. She could feel the altitude more now. The trees were sparser up here, and the wind blew more vigorously, sharp gusts that tugged at her clothing and pushed her hair into her eyes. 
  • ...and now, you have farther to fall, down on the lesser lords below: 
    • From time to time the steps doubled back on themselves, and she could see Stone below them, and the Gates of the Moon farther down, its torches no brighter than candles.
  • Snow is next, treacherous stuff that won’t support you...or so Catelyn thinks
    • Snow was smaller than Stone, a single fortified tower and a timber keep and stable hidden behind a low wall of unmortared rock. Yet it nestled against the Giant's Lance in such a way as to command the entire stone stair above the lower waycastle. An enemy intent on the Eyrie would have to fight his way from Stone step by step, while rocks and arrows rained down from Snow above. The commander, an anxious young knight with a pockmarked face, offered bread and cheese and the chance to warm themselves before his fire, but Mya declined. "We ought to keep going, my lady," she said. "If it please you." Catelyn nodded. 
    • Yet that it acts as crucial point of a defense for the nobles up top suggests that Catelyn is (gasp) wrong about Jon Snow--he woulda backed Robb
    • It’s also where the comforts are now refused, as Jon will refuse Winterfell
  • And it’s getting past Snow (on a white horse, no less) that Catelyn breaks:
    • Catelyn climbed stiffly from the shadows and looked at the path ahead; twenty feet long and close to three feet wide, but with a precipitous drop to either side. She could hear the wind shrieking. Mya stepped lightly out, her mule following as calmly as if they were crossing a bailey. It was her turn. Yet no sooner had she taken her first step than fear caught Catelyn in its jaws. She could feel the emptiness, the vast black gulfs of air that yawned around her. She stopped, trembling, afraid to move. The wind screamed at her and wrenched at her cloak, trying to pull her over the edge. Catelyn edged her foot backward, the most timid of steps, but the mule was behind her, and she could not retreat. I am going to die here, she thought. She could feel cold sweat trickling down her back. 
  • To get out of it, she has to swallow her noble pride and trust the bastard:
    • Catelyn Tully Stark swallowed what remained of her pride. “I . . . I cannot do this, child,” she called out.
    • And so, foot by foot, step by step, the bastard girl led Catelyn across, blind and trembling, while the white mule followed placidly behind them.
  • Sky is giddy relief after all that, but also confirmation that she’s climbed too high:
    • The waycastle called Sky was no more than a high, crescent-shaped wall of unmortared stone raised against the side of the mountain, but even the topless towers of Valyria could not have looked more beautiful to Catelyn Stark. Here at last the snow crown began; Sky's weathered stones were rimed with frost, and long spears of ice hung from the slopes above. 
  • And here at last, you don’t have to climb yourself anymore if you don’t want to:
    • “I have ridden all day and the best part of a night. Tell them to lower a basket. I shall ride with the turnips.”
• The Problems Up Top
  • What awaits Catelyn atop the Giant’s Lance is, to be blunt, nothing good
  • First of all, while Winterfell felt hostile to her, this is worse--it feels empty
    • The men escorted her from the winch room up a spiral stair. The Eyrie was a small castle by the standards of the great houses; seven slender white towers bunched as tightly as arrows in a quiver on a shoulder of the great mountain. It had no need of stables nor smithys nor kennels, but Ned said its granary was as large as Winterfell's, and its towers could house five hundred men. Yet it seemed strangely deserted to Catelyn as she passed through it, its pale stone halls echoing and empty. 
  • Then there’s Lysa:
    • It had been five years, in truth; five cruel years, for Lysa. They had taken their toll. Her sister was two years the younger, yet she looked older now. Shorter than Catelyn, Lysa had grown thick of body, pale and puffy of face. She had the blue eyes of the Tullys, but hers were pale and watery, never still. Her small mouth had turned petulant. As Catelyn held her, she remembered the slender, high-breasted girl who'd waited beside her that day in the sept at Riverrun. How lovely and full of hope she had been. All that remained of her sister's beauty was the great fall of thick auburn hair that cascaded to her waist. 
  • GRRM goes full “lack of beauty = fall from grace” here, which is a lil lazy, but this paragraph still effectively backs up what Catelyn and us have heard about her
  • The climb has taken its toll on Lysa, in short, in more ways than we know
  • The speed at which Lysa shifts moods is jarring and off-putting, compared to extremes of temperature and linked to the Eyrie’s coldness and isolation
    • She seemed to notice the others then; her maid, Maester Colemon, Ser Vardis. "Leave us," she told them. "I wish to speak to my sister alone." She held Catelyn's hand as they withdrew …
      
      … and dropped it the instant the door closed. Catelyn saw her face change. It was as if the sun had gone behind a cloud. "Have you taken leave of your senses?" Lysa snapped at her. "To bring him here, without a word of permission, without so much as a warning, to drag us into your quarrels with the Lannisters …"
      
      "My quarrels?" Catelyn could scarce believe what she was hearing. A great fire burned in the hearth, but there was no trace of warmth in Lysa's voice. 
  • Moreover, she’s shirking all responsibility for what her letter instigated, which throws everything that’s come since then into sharp relief
    • "They were your quarrels first, sister. It was you who sent me that cursed letter, you who wrote that the Lannisters had murdered your husband."
      
      "To warn you, so you could stay away from them! I never meant to fight them! Gods, Cat, do you know what you've done?"
  • And then, as if it had to get worse, the ostensible master of the Vale totters in
    • Robert Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, stood in the doorway, clutching a ragged cloth doll and looking at them with large eyes. He was a painfully thin child, small for his age and sickly all his days, and from time to time he trembled. 
  • It’s not just that he’s young and sick, it’s that Lysa is infantilizing him…
    • “Lysa," Catelyn said, "if you're right about the Lannisters, all the more reason we must act quickly. We—"
      
      "Not in front of the baby," Lysa said. "He has a delicate temper, don't you, sweet one?"
      
      "The boy is Lord of the Eyrie and Defender of the Vale," Catelyn reminded her, "and these are not times for delicacy. Ned thinks it may come to war."
      
      "Quiet!" Lysa snapped at her. "You're scaring the boy." Little Robert took a quick peek over his shoulder at Catelyn and began to tremble. His doll fell to the rushes, and he pressed himself against his mother. "Don't be afraid, my sweet baby," Lysa whispered. "Mother's here, nothing will hurt you." She opened her robe and drew out a pale, heavy breast, tipped with red. The boy grabbed for it eagerly, buried his face against her chest, and began to suck. Lysa stroked his hair.
  • ...and reinforcing his worst instincts:
    • "Is he a bad man?" the Lord of the Eyrie asked, his mother's breast popping from his mouth, the nipple wet and red.
      
      "A very bad man," Lysa told him as she covered herself, "but Mother won't let him harm my little baby."
      
      "Make him fly," Robert said eagerly.
      
      Lysa stroked her son’s hair. “Perhaps we will,” she murmured. “Perhaps that is just what we will do.”
  • It’s like Cersei and Joffrey if they were shut-ins
  • This is the ultimate joke on Catelyn, and it’s also a joke about the noble class: this is who’s literally on top of the mountain, this is who she’s risked it all for
    • Catelyn was at a loss for words. Jon Arryn's son, she thought incredulously. She remembered her own baby, three-year-old Rickon, half the age of this boy and five times as fierce. Small wonder the lords of the Vale were restive. For the first time she understood why the king had tried to take the child away from his mother to foster with the Lannisters … 
  • And yet, AND YET, Lysa’s backstory is significant here, and when we learn what started all this with her, the critique of the class becomes even weightier…
    • Lysa seated herself near the fire and said, "Come to Mother, my sweet one." She straightened his bedclothes and fussed with his fine brown hair. "Isn't he beautiful? And strong too, don't you believe the things you hear. Jon knew. The seed is strong, he told me. His last words. He kept saying Robert's name, and he grabbed my arm so hard he left marks. Tell them, the seed is strong. His seed. He wanted everyone to know what a good strong boy my baby was going to be." 

Likes/Dislikes

Like: I’d like to take the opportunity for my like of the chapter to hold people to account. So many wrong people holding ugly opinions have this take that AFFC but especially ADWD is just worldbuilding via lavish scene descriptions with little plot progression, and that this was something that came about post-ASOS. Man, are you ever wrong. Here, in this chapter, we get a load of worldbuilding and lavish scene descriptions. But it (much like AFFC/ADWD) works to help set the scene for future plot movement. Moreover, so much of the scene descriptors for this chapter help to create the Vale as a meaningful setting that will be important in both Catelyn/Tyrion’s arc in AGOT as well as Sansa’s AFFC arc.

Dislike: Look, as much as I like this chapter, it’s loooooooooong. I don’t mind long chapters per se, and I think GRRM has a lot of worldbuilding to cover to set the scene for future events, but there’s perhaps some room to cut some fat here. Maybe take the scene descriptors down a notch. Maybe pick the chapter up with Catelyn riding the Vale with Brynden Tully and cut all the Donnel Waynwood stuff. The dude is utterly unimportant to the plot going forward, and he can be name-dropped in a paragraph of retrospect. Again, I don’t mind how descriptive the chapter is, but it’s a touch long for my taste. 

Like: Catelyn and Brynden’s relationship here feels very lived in--you could say “your home is in my heart” is a lil flowery, but it resonates when he leaves the Vale with her to return to the place they were both born, and I love how he both implies that she’s fit to rule while also critiquing how she’s handled Tyrion. The Tullys are ever a politically-minded family, even Edmure in his way. 

Dislike: I feel like GRRM left an arc hanging unresolved here. Catelyn dislikes Mya at first because of an irrational association with Jon-->Mya graciously saves Catelyn’s ass in a humiliating moment for the latter-->Catelyn takes it to heart...which doesn’t happen, she never thinks of it again. Not that GRRM has to have her take it to heart, it just seems to me like that’s where the chapter is going with those first two movements, but doesn’t put the pieces together. 

Foreshadowing/Groundwork

Well would you look at that: “Sometimes she felt as though her heart had turned to stone…”

Six brave men had died to bring her this far, and she could not even find it in her to weep for them. Even their names were fading. 

Similarly, in Ned’s Tower of Joy chapter, the faces of the men who rode with him have faded.

Catelyn notes in this chapter that Chiggen “died” without going into detail, but in Tyrion VI, we get the full story:

"You'd do it in an instant, if it meant your life. You were quick enough to silence your friend Chiggen when he caught that arrow in his belly." Bronn had yanked back the man's head by the hair and driven the point of his dirk in under the ear, and afterward told Catelyn Stark that the other sellsword had died of his wound.

Catelyn is never wrong, part 1 million:

His love she might be, but no Redfort would ever wed a bastard. His family would arrange a more suitable match for him, to a Corbray or a Waynwood or a Royce, or perhaps a daughter of some greater house outside the Vale. If Mychel Redfort laid with this girl at all, it would be on the wrong side of the sheet.

In AFFC, we learn that Mya and Mychel indeed banged on the wrong side of the sheet, but then Mychel had been married off to a Royce:

Myranda edged her mule closer. "You know our Mya's not a maid, I trust?"

She did. Fat Maddy had whispered it to her, one time when Mya brought up their supplies. "Maddy told me."

"Of course she did. She has a mouth as big as her thighs, and her thighs are enormous. Mychel Redfort was the one. He used to be Lyn Corbray's squire. A real squire, not like that loutish lad Ser Lyn's got squiring for him now. He only took that one on for coin, they say. Mychel was the best young swordsman in the Vale, and gallant . . . or so poor Mya thought, till he wed one of Bronze Yohn's daughters. Lord Horton gave him no choice in the matter, I am sure, but it was still a cruel thing to do to Mya."

Also in AFFC, we’ll see an expansion on the Blackfish’s “crows on a battlefield” metaphor, as the lords of the Vale gather at the Eyrie not for marriage but war. 

Theory/Discussion

Given how much worldbuilding and groundwork this chapter does for the Vale of Arryn: where do we see Sansa’s Vale plot going in the books? Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?

So, let’s set the scene by talking through the various characters we see here or will see in AFFC and TWOW:

• Robert “Sweetrobin” Arryn
• Littlefinger: Lord Protector of the Vale
• Sansa Stark
• Harry the Heir
• Nestor Royce 
• Lyn Corbray
• Ser Shadrich “The Mad Mouse”

Let’s talk about the Bloody Gate

The competitors came from all over the Vale, from the mountain valleys and the coast, from Gulltown and the Bloody Gate, even the Three Sisters. (TWOW, Alayne I)

Seems problematic that the bulwark of Vale defense has some of its best fighters at the Tourney of the Winged Knights instead of maintaining a watch, yeah? Wonder who might exploit this?

"Lysa has woes of her own. Clansmen raiding out of the Mountains of the Moon, in greater numbers than ever before . . . and better armed."

"Distressing," said Tyrion Lannister, who had armed them. "I could help her with that. A word from me . . ." (ACOK, Tyrion IV)

You have to wonder whether Ser Donnel Waynwood will make a reappearance -- either at the tourney or running for his life after the clansmen overwhelm the gate.

But that’s only one potential piece. So much more can happen:

• Will Sweetrobin die? Yes or yes?
• Will Shadrich make an attempt to abduct Sansa? Will he be successful?
• How will Sansa be revealed? At her wedding to Harry or before that?
• Will the Vale go north with Sansa? Is this something that the show revealed?
• When does Harry die?

Conclusion

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