The woman bared the queen’s head first. Cersei sat as still as a stone statue as the shears clicked. Drifts of golden hair fell to the floor. She had not been allowed to tend it properly penned up in this cell, but even unwashed and tangled it shone where the sun touched it. My crown, the queen thought. They took the other crown away from me, and now they are stealing this one as well.
Cersei and Daenerys are two queens who have their “crowns” exposed, establishing a pattern between bare heads and queenship. In addition to her numerous queen foreshadowing throughout in the series, Arya is the third female POV character who has her crown exposed, hinting at an impending queenship following George Martin’s rule of threes.
Day 28: Parallels with other characters -> Daenerys Targaryen
Dragondreams/Wolfdreams
Dany
Yet when she slept that night, she dreamt the dragon dream again. Viserys was not in it this time. There was only her and the dragon. Its scales were black as night, wet and slick with blood. Her blood, Dany sensed. Its eyes were pools of molten magma, and when it opened its mouth, the flame came roaring out in a hot jet. She could hear it singing to her, She opened her arms to the fire, embraced it, let it swallow her whole, let it cleanse her and temper her and scour her clean. She could feel her flesh sear and blacken and slough away, could feel her blood boil and turn to steam, and yet there was no pain. She felt strong and new and fierce.
Arya
Sleep came as quick as she closed her eyes. She dreamed of wolves that night, stalking through a wet wood with the smell of rain and rot and blood thick in the air. Only they were good smells in the dream, and Arya knew she had nothing to fear. She was strong and swift and fierce, and her pack was all around her, her brothers and her sisters. They ran down a frightened horse together, tore its throat out, and feasted. And when the moon broke through the clouds, she threw back her head and howled.
Yes, Arya thought. Yes, it’s you who ought to run, you and Lord Tywin and the Mountain and Ser Addam and Ser Amory and stupid Ser Lyonel whoever he is, all of you better run or my brother will kill you, he’s a Stark, he’s more wolf than man, and so am I.
- Arya III ACOK,
Mother of dragons, Daenerys thought. Mother of monsters. What have I unleashed upon the world? A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros? I am the blood of the dragon, she thought. If they are monsters, so am I
At the last, Viserys looked at her. “Sister, please … Dany, tell them … make them … sweet sister …"When the gold was half-melted and starting to run, Drogo reached into the flames, snatched out the pot. “Crown!” he roared. “Here. A crown for Cart King!” And upended the pot over the head of the man who had been her brother. –– Dany V AGOT
Ser Meryn pried the king’s mouth open to jam a spoon down his throat. As he did, the boy’s eyes met Tyrion’s. He has Jaime’s eyes. Only he had never seen Jaime look so scared. The boy’s only thirteen. Joffrey was making a dry clacking noise, trying to speak. His eyes bulged white with terror, and he lifted a hand … reaching for his uncle, or pointing … –– Tyrion VIII ASOS
Tyrion & Dany being quietly calm in the face of the deaths of (two of) their abusers, reflecting on whom Joffrey and Viserys had once been––a brother, a boy––and being helpless but to watch as two men perish because of circumstances beyond their control, deaths that they will later be unfairly blamed for.
In ASOIAF, a rejectionof one’s own nature directly leads to their demise and/or death and acceptionof this nature leads to their escape from that fate.
Parallels with Robb
Robb rejects his wolfish nature, even though Greywind ripping someone’s hand earned him the truth and loyalty of his men —> This puts him in a grave danger —> Death
Daenerys locks her dragons up —> This puts her in a grave danger —> ???
Parallels with Arya & Jon
Arya: Reconnects with her nature —> ‘'I am a direwolf, and done with the wooden teeth.” —> Manages to escape the Harrenhal —> Survival
Jon: Has a weaker connection with his wolf —> He’s now dead, stuck in Ghost —> He is forced to reconnect with his direwolf —> (Possible) Survival
Dany: Drogon crashes the wedding party —> This forces her to reconnect with her dragon —> (Possible) Survival
Day 27:Mythological parallels -> Arya + a coin for Charon
“Then what good is it?”
“As well ask what good is life, what good is death? If the day comes when you would find me again, give that coin to any man from Braavos, and say these words to him—valar morghulis.”
“Valar morghulis,” Arya repeated. It wasn’t hard. Her fingers closed tight over the coin. Across the yard, she could hear men dying. “Please don’t go, Jaqen.”
Arya curled up near the fire, warm and snug, yet sleep would not come. She took out the coin that Jaqen H'ghar had given her and curled her fingers around it as she lay beneath her cloak. It made her feel strong to hold it, remembering how she’d seen the ghost in Harrenhal.
The captain turned it over and blinked at it, then looked at her again. “This … how … ?”
Jaqen said to say the words too. Arya crossed her arms against her chest. “Valar morghulis,” she said, as loud as if she’d known what it meant.
“Valar dohaeris,” he replied, touching his brow with two fingers. “Of course you shall have a cabin.”
“Valar dohaeris.” He pushed off with his oar and drifted back off into the deeper water. Arya watched him row back the way they’d come, until he vanished in the shadows of the bridge. As the swish of oars faded, she could almost hear the beating of her heart. Suddenly she was somewhere else … back in Harrenhal with Gendry, maybe, or with the Hound in the woods along the Trident. Salty is a stupid child, she told herself. I am a wolf, and will not be afraid. She patted Needle’s hilt for luck and plunged into the shadows, taking the steps two at a time so no one could ever say she’d been afraid.
At the top she found a set of carved wooden doors twelve feet high. The left-hand door was made of weirwood pale as bone, the right of gleaming ebony. In their center was a carved moon face; ebony on the weirwood side, weirwood on the ebony. The look of it reminded her somehow of the heart tree in the godswood at Winterfell. The doors are watching me, she thought. She pushed upon both doors at once with the flat of her gloved hands, but neither one would budge. Locked and barred. “Let me in, you stupid,” she said. “I crossed the narrow sea.” She made a fist and pounded. “Jaqen told me to come. I have the iron coin.” She pulled it from her pouch and held it up. “See? Valar morghulis.”
