Smashedapple

My biggest issue with Elia’s characterization is that it starts from an interesting premise before collapsing under its own contradictions. I genuinely liked the idea of her supporting Rhaegar in removing Aerys from power. That aligns with House Martell’s interests and gives Elia real political agency. But then the story pushes the “girlboss” angle so far that it becomes self-defeating.

Having Elia actively support Rhaegar and Lyanna’s relationship undermines her own stated goals. If her priority is strengthening House Martell, why would she support a situation that threatens her children’s future? Aegon may be the eldest son, but Rhaegar has already proven himself willing to disregard his marriage for the sake of prophecy and obsession. He believes his third child is the Prince That Was Promised, so what is stopping him from legitimizing that child, naming Lyanna his queen, and setting Elia aside? A half-rotten onion is still a rotten onion. Once Rhaegar has shown he is willing to abandon one duty, there is little reason for Elia to trust him with the rest.

The story seems aware of this problem, so instead of addressing it, it sidesteps it. Elia is rewritten as someone who never cared for Rhaegar romantically and is instead in love with Ashara. But Ashara herself exists largely as “the love interest,” making the relationship feel less like a meaningful romance and more like a convenient excuse to remove any emotional conflict. Rather than developing Elia and Ashara’s relationship for its own sake, it mainly serves to make readers more accepting of Rhaegar and Lyanna.

There’s also a broader pattern that weakens many of the female characters. The women are written as so relentlessly calculating, ruthless, and “strong” that they lose much of their humanity, while the men are softened by comparison. Rhaella’s desperate desire for a child that is destructive, while Aerys is reframed as simply wanting a child who will bring peace. Rhaegar is the one cautioning Lyanna against becoming consumed by prophecy. Elia becomes an untouchable political mastermind, and Ashara is reduced to an endlessly liberated “girlboss” who wants countless lovers.

The problem isn’t that these women are ambitious, politically savvy, or morally gray. Those traits can make for fantastic characters. The problem is that the story seems to equate strength with emotional detachment, constant competence, and a rejection of vulnerability. In trying so hard to make its women appear powerful and independent, it strips away much of the softness, insecurity, and emotional complexity that make characters feel like real people. Ironically, that ends up making the male characters seem more grounded and sympathetic than the women, despite the story’s apparent intentions.

» You and I remember Budapest very differently.