CHARACTER

Arobynn Hamel

Quick Facts

  • Role: King of the Assassins; ruler of Rifthold’s underworld; primary antagonist of The Assassin’s Blade
  • First appearance: The Assassin and the Pirate Lord (in The Assassin’s Blade)
  • Base of operations: The Assassins’ Keep, Rifthold
  • Key relationships: Celaena Sardothien, Sam Cortland, Ben
  • Hallmarks: silver eyes, auburn hair, effortless elegance; charisma used as a weapon; meticulous, sadistic precision

Who He Is

The King of the Assassins is equal parts benefactor and butcher—the man who plucked a near-dead Celaena Sardothien from a riverbank and fashioned her into his heir, while ensuring she never forgot who owned the blade. He runs the city from velvet-lined rooms, where gifts, debts, and smiles are all instruments of power. Arobynn is the story’s most concentrated expression of the themes of Betrayal and Trust and Freedom vs. Servitude: he offers safety, prestige, and “family”—but only inside a gilded cage he controls.

Even his appearance is strategic: handsome, poised, silver eyes that turn to steel when crossed. He can lounge at the head of a table and still dominate the room—proof that his elegance is a sharpened edge.

Personality & Traits

Arobynn’s defining paradox is how charm and cruelty coexist in perfect balance. He reads what people want—a father, a patron, a king—and gives them a performance so convincing they don’t notice the trap until it shuts.

  • Controlling and possessive: He calls Celaena his heir but binds her with calculated debts and “gifts” that keep her dependent. His infamous line—“belongings”—reveals the truth: affection is a mask for ownership.
  • Master manipulator: He orchestrates the Skull’s Bay mission to force an impossible moral choice, then punishes the “wrong” answer. Later, the Doneval contract becomes a morality play he scripts, turning causes and clients into levers.
  • Sadistic precision: When Celaena frees the slaves, he exacts a punishment designed to maximize terror and pain while minimizing visible scars—forcing Sam to watch so the lesson brands them both.
  • Charismatic tyrant: He wins loyalty with wit, generosity, and the illusion of being seen—then redirects that loyalty to his ends, making others complicit in their own control.
  • Vain and materialistic: Luxury is a leash. From custom wardrobes to opulent rooms, he uses wealth to seduce—and to tether—his protégée to the Keep and to him.

Character Journey

Arobynn’s “arc” is a steady unveiling. He first appears as an exacting mentor whose severity could be mistaken for tough love. The mask slips after Skull’s Bay: the public face remains charming, but his private contrition—“I’m sorry... If I could take back that night”—functions like a trapdoor back into his power. In the Underworld, he reframes the Doneval job to test allegiance rather than serve justice, twisting causes to make Celaena complicit. When her loyalty shifts toward Sam Cortland, jealousy curdles into calculation; love becomes leverage; and Arobynn engineers the catastrophe that ends in Sam’s murder and Celaena’s imprisonment. He does not soften or grow; he hardens into what he always was. Yet his monstrosity catalyzes the heroine’s Loss of Innocence and Coming of Age, forcing her to define freedom on her own terms.

Key Relationships

  • Celaena Sardothien: He is the only “family” she knows—mentor, patron, and jailer. He nurtures her brilliance to possess it, flattering her as his heir while ensuring every step toward independence comes at a cost. Their bond showcases the cycle of abuse: generosity followed by violence, apology followed by tighter control.

  • Sam Cortland: Arobynn sees Sam as a threat to his influence and deliberately fans rivalry into enmity. When affection grows between the young assassins, Arobynn leverages their hopes into a fatal setup, proving his love for Celaena was conditional on obedience.

  • Ben: A childhood friend and second-in-command whose death raises early questions about how far Arobynn will go to keep power consolidated. The lingering suspicion around Ben foreshadows the betrayal to come: if even a friend is expendable, no one is safe.

Defining Moments

Arobynn’s power is most visible when he choreographs both the stage and the audience—reward, punishment, and “forgiveness” all part of the show.

  • The Beating after Skull’s Bay

    • What happens: Furious that Celaena freed enslaved people, he restrains Sam and forces him to watch as he beats her unconscious—calculated to leave minimal scars.
    • Why it matters: This shatters the illusion of fatherly love and redefines his “care” as terror management.
  • The Gilded Apology

    • What happens: He showers Celaena with gifts and contrition after the assault.
    • Why it matters: Apology becomes a mechanism of control, teaching that forgiveness is costly—and purchased on his terms.
  • The Deception of Doneval

    • What happens: He frames the Doneval contract as righteous work against slavers, while the reality—and his client, Leighfer Bardingale—serves his interests first.
    • Why it matters: He weaponizes Celaena’s morality, pushing her to act for causes he has cynically rewritten to test and tighten her leash.
  • The Final Betrayal

    • What happens: He engineers the trap that delivers Celaena and Sam to Rourke Farran, knowing the likely outcome.
    • Why it matters: The plan annihilates her support system and proves his ultimate creed: people are possessions, and disobedience is unforgivable.

Essential Quotes

When Arobynn summoned you, you didn’t keep him waiting.
This line captures the culture of fear he cultivates. Even silence and punctuality become instruments of dominance, conditioning everyone around him to anticipate and serve his will.

"I’m sorry," he said. "If I could take back that night, Celaena, I would."
A masterclass in manipulative contrition. The apology doesn’t restore trust; it resets the cycle—hurt, remorse, reward—so his control feels like reconciliation rather than captivity.

"You are not going to enjoy this. You will not forget this. And I don’t want you to."
He names his cruelty as pedagogy, recasting violence as instruction. The line exposes his sadism and how he rationalizes it: pain is both punishment and lesson.

"Because I don’t like sharing my belongings."
The mask drops. In seven words, Arobynn admits that love, mentorship, and loyalty were pretense; ownership was always the point. It’s the thesis of his character—and the justification for the worst thing he does.