goodqueenaly:

Then it was time for gifts. It was traditional in the Reach to give presents to bride and groom on the morning of their wedding; on the morrow they would receive more presents as a couple, but today’s tokens were for their separate persons.

From Jalabhar Xho, Joffrey received a great bow of golden wood and quiver of long arrows fletched with green and scarlet feathers; from Lady Tanda a pair of supple riding boots; from Ser Kevan a magnificent red leather jousting saddle; a red gold brooch wrought in the shape of a scorpion from the Dornishman, Prince Oberyn; silver spurs from Ser Addam Marbrand; a red silk tourney pavilion from Lord Mathis Rowan.

Someday I’ll examine all the wedding presents Joffrey receives in detail, to see what little messages the author might have been sending, but this one stood out to me in a new way today (unlike, say, the more pointed symbolism of Oberyn’s and Mace’s gifts). For one, of course, it’s yet another sign of Joffrey’s Lannister heritage being promoted to the exclusion of his “Baratheon” heritage. A gold tourney pavilion might have been an appropriate Baratheon reference (especially since Robert’s pavilion at the Tourney of the Hand “was all of golden silk”), or even straddled the line between Baratheon and Lannister (since the two share gold as a sigil color), but a red silk pavilion was an exclusively Lannister symbol. It’s yet another sign of Joffrey being cultivated as a Lannister prince, with no hints of his supposed Baratheon ancestry (even though that didn’t entirely pan out).

But what’s maybe even more interesting, and related to this point about the Lannister-ness of the gift, is Mathis Rowan’s own position. I don’t think it’s coincidental that it’s in the same book that Tyrion notes Mathis Rowan’s apparent disgust at the way Tywin neatly outsources blame for the murders of Elia and her children. I wonder if this gift was a pointed reference, then, to the Lannister-orchestrated murders of Rhaegar’s wife and children during the Sack, particularly to the handling of Aegon’s and Rhaenys’ bodies. After all, when Tywin presented the mutilated corpses to Robert, he had them wrapped in crimson Lannister cloaks, since, as Ned, remembers, “the blood did not show so badly against the red cloth”. Robert had, in the words of Arianne, “climbed onto his throne over the corpses of children”, and to a staunch Targaryen supporter, Joffrey would likewise owe his throne to the murders of Aegon and Rhaenys. Mathis Rowan might not have the ability, or willingness, to defy his Tyrell overlords and surrender his estate to support the Targaryen cause abroad, but he might have felt that he could make a subtle statement with his wedding gift to Joffrey. This is what would symbolize Joffrey’s reign – the biggest piece of red cloth one Westerosi could give to another, a mute testament to the broken bodies of the children Lord Tywin had ordered slain to secure the throne for Robert and his heirs. 

The pavilion could just be a pavilion, of course, and I might be overthinking it. But it’s a neat interpretation regardless. 

I think there’s an interesting irony to a lot of these gifts:

• the jousting saddle, the tourney pavilion: Joffrey’s never fought in a tourney because Cersei won’t let him.
• the bow and quiver: Joffrey’s a terrible shot who can’t hit a rabbit.
• the boots: remember when Joffrey rode away from the riot?
• the scorpion brooch: I, Oberyn Martell, plan to poison as many Lannisters as I can with manticore venom.

And so on…