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aboveallarescuer · 5 years ago

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Dany longing for a home, people to belong to and peace and safety in general

As I was rereading ASOIAF, I made it my goal to compile all* the book passages demonstrating either certain key attributes of Daenerys Targaryen (e.g. that she's compassionate and smart) or aspects of hers that are usually overstated (e.g. that she's ambitious and prophecy-driven). Doing such a task may seem exaggerated, but I'd argue it's not, for many, many misconceptions about Dany have become widespread in light of the show's final season's events (and even before).

It must be acknowledged that it can be tricky to reference, say, ADWD passages to counter-argument how she was depicted in season eight (which allegedly follows ADOS events). Dany will have had plenty of character development in the span of two books. However, whatever happens to Dany in the next two books, I would argue that there is more than enough material to conclude that her show counterpart was made to fall for flaws that she (for the most part) never had and actions that she (for the most part) would never take. (and that's not even considering the double standards and the contradictions with what had been shown from show!Dany up until then, but that's obviously out of the scope of these lists)

Another objection to the purpose of these lists is that Game of Thrones is different from A Song of Ice and Fire and should be analyzed on its own, which is a fair point. However, the show is also an adaptation of these books, which begs the questions: why did they change Dany's character? Why did they overfocus on negative traits of hers or depicted them as negative when they weren't supposed to be or gave her negative traits that were never hers to begin with? Another fact that undermines the show=/=books argument is that most people think that the show's ending will be the books', albeit only in broad strokes and in different circumstances. As a result, people's perception of Dany is inevitably influenced by the show, which is a shame.

I hope these lists can be useful for whoever wants to find book passages to defend (or even simply explore different facets of) Dany's character in metas or conversations.

*Well, at least all the passages that I could find in her chapters, which is no guarantee that the effort was perfectly executed, but I did my best.

Also, people could interpret certain passages differently and then come up with a different collection of passages if they ever attempted to make one, so I'm not saying that this list is completely objective (nor that there could ever be one).

Also, some passages have been cut short according to whether they were, IMO, relevant to the specific topic of the list they're in, so the context surrounding them may not always be clear (always read the books and use asearchoficeandfire). Many of them appear in different lists, sometimes fully referenced, sometimes not.

I listed the passages back to front because I felt doing so highlighted Dany's evolution better.

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To justify the existence of this list, let's see examples of widespread opinions that I feel misrepresent Daenerys Targaryen:

Power is what Daenerys wants and that's really all she wants. She lusts after the Iron Throne with a hunger that is truly baffling. She's not from Westeros, or at least she's never really lived there her entire life. (x)

Why does she want to be queen so badly? Is it to bring a more just era of rule to the land? [...]

Why? What will she do with this power? Will she be a good and just monarch or will she be more like her father, the Mad King? More and more I suspect that she will be a very bad queen, only interested in doing what is right only if it helps her secure the Iron Throne. (x)

Her ruthlessness can't just mean nothing. She's far too power-hungry and far too cold to end up as a good person, ruling magnanimously over a peaceful land. (x)

Never mind that demanding that Dany asks herself why she wants to be queen is not understanding how the Westerosi pseudofeudalistic system works (or that she outright states that "justice ... that’s what kings are for" in ASOS Dany III).

Is power really all Dany wants, to the point of "lust[ing] after the Iron Throne" (particularly gross wording)? Is Dany "only interested in doing what is right only if it helps her secure the Iron Throne"? Is Dany "far too power-hungry and far too cold to end up as a good person"?

I would argue these claims certainly cannot be made after reading the books (some can't even after watching the show's first 71 episodes, but the show can be all over the place and ... I digress), so take a look at these passages.

A Dance with Dragons

ADWD Daenerys X

The hill loomed larger down here. Dany had taken to calling it Dragonstone, after the ancient citadel where she’d been born. She had no memories of that Dragonstone, but she would not soon forget this one. Scrub grass and thorny bushes covered its lower slopes; higher up a jagged tangle of bare rock thrust steep and sudden into the sky. There, amidst broken boulders, razor-sharp ridges, and needle spires, Drogon made his lair inside a shallow cave. He had dwelt there for some time, Dany had realized when she first saw the hill. The air smelled of ash, every rock and tree in sight was scorched and blackened, the ground strewn with burned and broken bones, yet it had been home to him.

Dany knew the lure of home.

Daenerys Targaryen was no stranger to the Dothraki sea, the great ocean of grass that stretched from the forest of Qohor to the Mother of Mountains and the Womb of the World. She had seen it first when she was still a girl, newly wed to Khal Drogo and on her way to Vaes Dothrak to be presented to the crones of the dosh khaleen. The sight of all that grass stretching out before her had taken her breath away. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and I was full of hope. Ser Jorah had been with her then, her gruff old bear. She’d had Irri and Jhiqui and Doreah to care for her, her sun-and-stars to hold her in the night, his child growing inside her. Rhaego. I was going to name him Rhaego, and the dosh khaleen said he would be the Stallion Who Mounts the World. Not since those half-remembered days in Braavos when she lived in the house with the red door had she been as happy.

No, Dany told herself. If I look back I am lost. She might live for years amongst the sunbaked rocks of Dragonstone, riding Drogon by day and gnawing at his leavings every evenfall as the great grass sea turned from gold to orange, but that was not the life she had been born to. So once again she turned her back upon the distant hill and closed her ears to the song of flight and freedom that the wind sang as it played amongst the hill’s stony ridges. The stream was trickling south by southeast, as near as she could tell. She followed it. Take me to the river, that is all I ask of you. Take me to the river, and I will do the rest.

The hours passed slowly. The stream bent this way and that, and Dany followed, beating time upon her leg with the whip, trying not to think about how far she had to go, or the pounding in her head, or her empty belly. Take one step. Take the next. Another step. Another. What else could she do?

“Drogon killed a little girl. Her name was ... her name ...” Dany could not recall the child’s name. That made her so sad that she would have cried if all her tears had not been burned away. “I will never have a little girl. I was the Mother of Dragons.”

In the stream or out of it, I must keep walking. Water flows downhill. The stream will take me to the river, and the river will take me home.

Except it wouldn’t, not truly.

Meereen was not her home, and never would be. It was a city of strange men with strange gods and stranger hair, of slavers wrapped in fringed tokars, where grace was earned through whoring, butchery was art, and dog was a delicacy. Meereen would always be the Harpy’s city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy.

ADWD Daenerys IX

She pushed herself to her feet, splashing softly. Water ran down her legs and beaded on her breasts. The sun was climbing up the sky, and her people would soon be gathering. She would rather have drifted in the fragrant pool all day, eating iced fruit off silver trays and dreaming of a house with a red door, but a queen belongs to her people, not to herself.

Treachery on treachery, the queen thought wearily. Is there no end to it?

In Westeros the septons spoke of seven hells and seven heavens, but the Seven Kingdoms and their gods were far away. If she died here, Dany wondered, would the horse god of the Dothraki part the grass and claim her for his starry khalasar, so she might ride the nightlands beside her sun-and-stars? Or would the angry gods of Ghis send their harpies to seize her soul and drag her down to torment?

ADWD Daenerys VIII

Every child knows its mother, Dany thought. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves … “They call to me. Come.”

Dany slid her arms around him and let him have his way. Drunk as he was, she knew he would not be inside her long.

Nor was he. Afterward he nuzzled at her ear and whispered, “Gods grant that we have made a son tonight.”

The words of Mirri Maz Duur rang in her head. When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before. The meaning was plain enough; Khal Drogo was as like to return from the dead as she was to bear a living child. But there are some secrets she could not bring herself to share, even with a husband, so she let Hizdahr zo Loraq keep his hopes.

Her noble husband was soon fast asleep. Daenerys could only twist and turn beside him. She wanted to shake him, wake him, make him hold her, kiss her, fuck her again, but even if he did, he would fall back to sleep again afterward, leaving her alone in the darkness. She wondered what Daario was doing. Was he restless as well? Was he thinking about her? Did he love her, truly? Did he hate her for marrying Hizdahr? I should never have taken him into my bed. He was only a sellsword, no fit consort for a queen, and yet …

I knew that all along, but I did it anyway.

“My queen?” said a soft voice in the darkness.

Dany flinched. “Who is there?”

“Only Missandei.” The Naathi scribe moved closer to the bed. “This one heard you crying.”

“Crying? I was not crying. Why would I cry? I have my peace, I have my king, I have everything a queen might wish for. You had a bad dream, that was all.”

“As you say, Your Grace.” She bowed and made to go.

“Stay,” said Dany. “I do not wish to be alone.”

“His Grace is with you,” Missandei pointed out.

“His Grace is dreaming, but I cannot sleep. On the morrow I must bathe in blood. The price of peace.” She smiled wanly and patted the bed. “Come. Sit. Talk with me.”

ADWD Daenerys VII

If she had been some ordinary woman, she would gladly have spent her whole life touching Daario, tracing his scars and making him tell her how he’d come by every one. I would give up my crown if he asked it of me, Dany thought … but he had not asked it, and never would.

Khal Drogo had been her sun-and-stars, but he had been dead so long that Daenerys had almost forgotten how it felt to love and be loved. Daario had helped her to remember. I was dead and he brought me back to life. I was asleep and he woke me. My brave captain.

“...Bring your frog to court tomorrow. The others too. The Westerosi.” It would be nice to hear the Common Tongue from someone besides Ser Barristan.

She went to the parapet and stood there gazing down upon the city as she had done a hundred times before. It will never be my city. It will never be my home.

It was close to sunset before Daario Naharis appeared with his new Stormcrows, the Westerosi who had come over to him from the Windblown. Dany found herself glancing at them as yet another petitioner droned on and on. These are my people. I am their rightful queen. They seemed a scruffy bunch, but that was only to be expected of sellswords. The youngest could not have been more than a year older than her; the oldest must have seen sixty namedays. A few sported signs of wealth: gold arm rings, silken tunics, silverstudded sword belts. Plunder. For the most part, their clothes were plainly made and showed signs of hard wear.

When she saw the name Ser Willem Darry, her heart beat a little faster.

This was done in Braavos, while we were living in the house with the red door. Why did that make her feel so strange?

ADWD Daenerys VI

Dany tried to speak and found no words. She remembered Ben’s face the last time she had seen it. It was a warm face, a face I trusted. Dark skin and white hair, the broken nose, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Even the dragons had been fond of old Brown Ben, who liked to boast that he had a drop of dragon blood himself. Three treasons will you know. Once for gold and once for blood and once for love. Was Plumm the third treason, or the second? And what did that make Ser Jorah, her gruff old bear? Would she never have a friend that she could trust? What good are prophecies if you cannot make sense of them? If I marry Hizdahr before the sun comes up, will all these armies melt away like morning dew and let me rule in peace? Daario’s announcement had sparked an uproar. [...] “Be quiet! I have heard enough.”

[...] She wanted to scream, to gnash her teeth and tear her clothes and beat upon the floor. Instead she said, “Close the gates. Will you make me say it thrice?” They were her children, but she could not help them now. “Leave me. Daario, remain. That cut should be washed, and I have more questions for you.”

[...] He kissed her.

[...] “I thought you would be the one to betray me. Once for blood and once for gold and once for love, the warlocks said. I thought … I never thought Brown Ben. Even my dragons seemed to trust him.” She clutched her captain by the shoulders. “Promise me that you will never turn against me. I could not bear that. Promise me.”

ADWD Daenerys III

Dany could feel the warmth of his fingers. He was warm in Qarth as well, she recalled, until the day he had no more use for me.

That only made him chuckle. “The Dothraki horselords call the Lhazarene the Lamb Men. When you shear them, all they do is bleat. They are not a martial people.”

Even a sheepish friend is better than none.

Dany had never known a home. In Braavos, there had been a house with a red door, but that was all.

Westeros. Home. But if she left, what would happen to her city?

The next morning Dany woke as full of hope as she had been since first she came to Slaver’s Bay. Daario would soon be at her side once more, and together they would sail for Westeros. For home.

Take these ships and sail away, or you will surely die screaming. You cannot know how many enemies you have made.”

I know one stands before me now, weeping mummer’s tears. The realization made her sad.

Dany seated herself upon her bench again to gaze across the blue silk sea, toward distant Westeros. One day, she promised herself.

ADWD Daenerys I

She had been dreaming of a house with a red door when Missandei woke her. There had been no time to dress.

A Storm of Swords

ASOS Daenerys VI

Up here in her garden Dany sometimes felt like a god, living atop the highest mountain in the world.

Do all gods feel so lonely? Some must, surely. Missandei had told her of the Lord of Harmony, worshiped by the Peaceful People of Naath; he was the only true god, her little scribe said, the god who always was and always would be, who made the moon and stars and earth, and all the creatures that dwelt upon them. Poor Lord of Harmony. Dany pitied him. It must be terrible to be alone for all time, attended by hordes of butterfly women you could make or unmake at a word. Westeros had seven gods at least, though Viserys had told her that some septons said the seven were only aspects of a single god, seven facets of a single crystal. That was just confusing. The red priests believed in two gods, she had heard, but two who were eternally at war. Dany liked that even less. She would not want to be eternally at war.

The dragon has three heads. There are two men in the world who I can trust, if I can find them. I will not be alone then. We will be three against the world, like Aegon and his sisters.

She looked away until she heard the doors open and close. Then she sank back onto the ebony bench. He’s gone, then. My father and my mother, my brothers, Ser Willem Darry, Drogo who was my sun-and-stars, his son who died inside me, and now Ser Jorah ...

She was Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, khaleesi and queen, Mother of Dragons, slayer of warlocks, breaker of chains, and there was no one in the world that she could trust.

ASOS Daenerys V

“Khaleesi, it was only at the start, before I came to know you ... before I came to love ...”

“Do not say that word!” She backed away from him. “How could you? What did the Usurper promise you? Gold, was it gold?” The Undying had said she would be betrayed twice more, once for gold and once for love. “Tell me what you were promised?”

“Varys said ... I might go home.” He bowed his head.

I was going to take you home! [...] Was there no one she could trust, no one to keep her safe?

ASOS Daenerys IV

Dany found herself wondering whether he was right about Daario. She felt very lonely all of a sudden. Mirri Maz Duur had promised that she would never bear a living child. House Targaryen will end with me. That made her sad. “You must be my children,” she told the dragons, “my three fierce children. Arstan says dragons live longer than men, so you will go on after I am dead.”

Dany looked at Missandei. “What are they shouting?”

“It is Ghiscari, the old pure tongue. It means ‘Mother.’”

Dany felt a lightness in her chest. I will never bear a living child, she remembered. Her hand trembled as she raised it. Perhaps she smiled. She must have, because the man grinned and shouted again, and others took up the cry. “Mhysa!” they called. “Mhysa! MHYSA!” They were all smiling at her, reaching for her, kneeling before her.

ASOS Daenerys I

Across the still blue water came the slow steady beat of drums and the soft swish of oars from the galleys. The great cog groaned in their wake, the heavy lines stretched taut between. Balerion’s sails hung limp, drooping forlorn from the masts. Yet even so, as she stood upon the forecastle watching her dragons chase each other across a cloudless blue sky, Daenerys Targaryen was as happy as she could ever remember being.

The narrow sea was often stormy, and Dany had crossed it half a hundred times as a girl, running from one Free City to the next half a step ahead of the Usurper’s hired knives. She loved the sea. She liked the sharp salty smell of the air, and the vastness of horizons bounded only by a vault of azure sky above. It made her feel small, but free as well. She liked the dolphins that sometimes swam along beside Balerion, slicing through the waves like silvery spears, and the flying fish they glimpsed now and again. She even liked the sailors, with all their songs and stories. Once on a voyage to Braavos, as she’d watched the crew wrestle down a great green sail in a rising gale, she had even thought how fine it would be to be a sailor.

They are my children, she told herself, and if the maegi spoke truly, they are the only children I am ever like to have.

A Clash of Kings

ACOK Daenerys V

It was not by choice that she sought the waterfront. She was fleeing again. Her whole life had been one long flight, it seemed. She had begun running in her mother’s womb, and never once stopped. How often had she and Viserys stolen away in the black of night, a bare step ahead of the Usurper’s hired knives? But it was run or die. Xaro had learned that Pyat Pree was gathering the surviving warlocks together to work ill on her.

Her bloodriders would sooner have returned to their great grass sea, even if it meant braving the red waste again. Dany herself had toyed with the idea of settling in Vaes Tolorro until her dragons grew great and strong.

It was good to hear men speaking Valyrian once more, and even the Common Tongue, Dany thought as they approached the first ship.

ACOK Daenerys III

Part of her would have liked nothing more than to lead her people back to Vaes Tolorro, and make the dead city bloom. No, that is defeat. I have something Viserys never had. I have the dragons. The dragons are all the difference.

“...The Qartheen have a curious wedding custom, my queen. On the day of their union, a wife may ask a token of love from her husband. Whatsoever she desires of his worldly goods, he must grant. And he may ask the same of her. One thing only may be asked, but whatever is named may not be denied.”

“One thing,” she repeated. “And it may not be denied?”

“With one dragon, Xaro Xhoan Daxos would rule this city, but one ship will further our cause but little.”

Dany nibbled at an onion and reflected ruefully on the faithlessness of men.

ACOK Daenerys II

She wondered whether Aegon’s Red Keep had a pool like this, and fragrant gardens full of lavender and mint. It must, surely. Viserys always said the Seven Kingdoms were more beautiful than any other place in the world.

The thought of home disquieted her. If her sun-and-stars had lived, he would have led his khalasar across the poison water and swept away her enemies, but his strength had left the world. Her bloodriders remained, sworn to her for life and skilled in slaughter, but only in the ways of the horselords. The Dothraki sacked cities and plundered kingdoms, they did not rule them. Dany had no wish to reduce King’s Landing to a blackened ruin full of unquiet ghosts. She had supped enough on tears. I want to make my kingdom beautiful, to fill it with fat men and pretty maids and laughing children. I want my people to smile when they see me ride by, the way Viserys said they smiled for my father.

But before she could do that she must conquer.

A Game of Thrones

AGOT Daenerys VIII

Dany did not want to go back to Vaes Dothrak and live the rest of her life among those terrible old women, yet she knew that the knight spoke the truth. Drogo had been more than her sun-and-stars; he had been the shield that kept her safe. “I will not leave him,” she said stubbornly, miserably. She took his hand again. “I will not.”

“All I can do now is ease the dark road before him, so he might ride painless to the night lands. He will be gone by morning.”

Her words were a knife through Dany’s breast. What had she ever done to make the gods so cruel? She had finally found a safe place, had finally tasted love and hope. She was finally going home. And now to lose it all ... “No,” she pleaded. “Save him, and I will free you, I swear it. You must know a way ... some magic, some ...”

AGOT Daenerys VI

“The stallion who mounts the world has no need of iron chairs.”

[...] “It was prophesied that the stallion will ride to the ends of the earth,” she said.

“The earth ends at the black salt sea,” Drogo answered at once. He wet a cloth in a basin of warm water to wipe the sweat and oil from his skin. “No horse can cross the poison water.”

“In the Free Cities, there are ships by the thousand,” Dany told him, as she had told him before. “Wooden horses with a hundred legs, that fly across the sea on wings full of wind.”

Khal Drogo did not want to hear it. “We will speak no more of wooden horses and iron chairs.” [...]

Savage beasts he did not fear, nor any man who had ever drawn breath, but the sea was a different matter. To the Dothraki, water that a horse could not drink was something foul; the heaving grey-green plains of the ocean filled them with superstitious loathing. Drogo was a bolder man than the other horselords in half a hundred ways, she had found ... but not in this. If only she could get him onto a ship ...

“My princess. How may I serve you?”

“You must talk to my lord husband,” Dany said. “Drogo says the stallion who mounts the world will have all the lands of the earth to rule, and no need to cross the poison water. He talks of leading his khalasar east after Rhaego is born, to plunder the lands around the Jade Sea.”

[...] “The khal has never seen the Seven Kingdoms,” he said. [...]

“But he must ride west,” Dany said, despairing. “Please, help me make him understand.” She had never seen the Seven Kingdoms either, no more than Drogo, yet she felt as though she knew them from all the tales her brother had told her. Viserys had promised her a thousand times that he would take her back one day, but he was dead now and his promises had died with him.

“The Dothraki do things in their own time, for their own reasons,” the knight answered. “Have patience, Princess. Do not make your brother’s mistake. We will go home, I promise you.”

Home? The word made her feel sad. Ser Jorah had his Bear Island, but what was home to her? A few tales, names recited as solemnly as the words of a prayer, the fading memory of a red door ... was Vaes Dothrak to be her home forever? When she looked at the crones of the dosh khaleen, was she looking at her future?

You could never tell what treasures the traders might bring this time, and it would be good to hear men speaking Valyrian again, as they did in the Free Cities.

If I were not the blood of the dragon, she thought wistfully, this could be my home. She was khaleesi, she had a strong man and a swift horse, handmaids to serve her, warriors to keep her safe, an honored place in the dosh khaleen awaiting her when she grew old ... and in her womb grew a son who would one day bestride the world. That should be enough for any woman ... but not for the dragon. With Viserys gone, Daenerys was the last, the very last. She was the seed of kings and conquerors, and so too the child inside her. She must not forget.

But the Western Market smelled of home.

As Irri and Jhiqui helped her from her litter, she sniffed, and recognized the sharp odors of garlic and pepper, scents that reminded Dany of days long gone in the alleys of Tyrosh and Myr and brought a fond smile to her face. Under that she smelled the heady sweet perfumes of Lys. She saw slaves carrying bolts of intricate Myrish lace and fine wools in a dozen rich colors. Caravan guards wandered among the aisles in copper helmets and knee-length tunics of quilted yellow cotton, empty scabbards swinging from their woven leather belts. Behind one stall an armorer displayed steel breastplates worked with gold and silver in ornate patterns, and helms hammered in the shapes of fanciful beasts. Next to him was a pretty young woman selling Lannisport goldwork, rings and brooches and torcs and exquisitely wrought medallions suitable for belting. A huge eunuch guarded her stall, mute and hairless, dressed in sweat-stained velvets and scowling at anyone who came close. Across the aisle, a fat cloth trader from Yi Ti was haggling with a Pentoshi over the price of some green dye, the monkey tail on his hat swaying back and forth as he shook his head.

“When I was a little girl, I loved to play in the bazaar,” Dany told Ser Jorah as they wandered down the shady aisle between the stalls. “It was so alive there, all the people shouting and laughing, so many wonderful things to look at ... though we seldom had enough coin to buy anything ... well, except for a sausage now and again, or honeyfingers ... do they have honeyfingers in the Seven Kingdoms, the kind they bake in Tyrosh?”

[...] Her handmaids trailed along as Dany resumed her stroll through the market. “Oh, look,” she exclaimed to Doreah, “those are the kind of sausages I meant.” She pointed to a stall where a wizened little woman was grilling meat and onions on a hot firestone. “They make them with lots of garlic and hot peppers.” Delighted with her discovery, Dany insisted the others join her for a sausage. Her handmaids wolfed theirs down giggling and grinning, though the men of her khas sniffed at the grilled meat suspiciously. “They taste different than I remember,” Dany said after her first few bites.

“In Pentos, I make them with pork,” the old woman said, “but all my pigs died on the Dothraki sea. These are made of horsemeat, Khaleesi, but I spice them the same.”

“Oh.” Dany felt disappointed, but Quaro liked his sausage so well he decided to have another one, and Rakharo had to outdo him and eat three more, belching loudly. Dany giggled.

“You have not laughed since your brother the Khal Rhaggat was crowned by Drogo,” said Irri. “It is good to see, Khaleesi.”

Dany smiled shyly. It was sweet to laugh. She felt half a girl again.

She did take a dozen flasks of scented oils, the perfumes of her childhood; she had only to close her eyes and sniff them and she could see the big house with the red door once more.

AGOT Daenerys IV

Every khal had his bloodriders. At first Dany had thought of them as a kind of Dothraki Kingsguard, sworn to protect their lord, but it went further than that. Jhiqui had taught her that a bloodrider was more than a guard; they were the khal’s brothers, his shadows, his fiercest friends. “Blood of my blood,” Drogo called them, and so it was; they shared a single life. The ancient traditions of the horselords demanded that when the khal died, his bloodriders died with him, to ride at his side in the night lands. If the khal died at the hands of some enemy, they lived only long enough to avenge him, and then followed him joyfully into the grave. In some khalasars, Jhiqui said, the bloodriders shared the khal’s wine, his tent, and even his wives, though never his horses. A man’s mount was his own.

Daenerys was glad that Khal Drogo did not hold to those ancient ways. She should not have liked being shared. And while old Cohollo treated her kindly enough, the others frightened her; Haggo, huge and silent, often glowered as if he had forgotten who she was, and Qotho had cruel eyes and quick hands that liked to hurt. He left bruises on Doreah’s soft white skin whenever he touched her, and sometimes made Irri sob in the night. Even his horses seemed to fear him.

Yet they were bound to Drogo for life and death, so Daenerys had no choice but to accept them. And sometimes she found herself wishing her father had been protected by such men. In the songs, the white knights of the Kingsguard were ever noble, valiant, and true, and yet King Aerys had been murdered by one of them, the handsome boy they now called the Kingslayer, and a second, Ser Barristan the Bold, had gone over to the Usurper. She wondered if all men were as false in the Seven Kingdoms. When her son sat the Iron Throne, she would see that he had bloodriders of his own to protect him against treachery in his Kingsguard. ~

“Please, bring me one of the dragon’s eggs.”

Irri fetched the egg with the deep green shell, bronze flecks shining amid its scales as she turned it in her small hands. Dany curled up on her side, pulling the sandsilk cloak across her and cradling the egg in the hollow between her swollen belly and small, tender breasts. She liked to hold them. They were so beautiful, and sometimes just being close to them made her feel stronger, braver, as if somehow she were drawing strength from the stone dragons locked inside.

She was lying there, holding the egg, when she felt the child move within her ... as if he were reaching out, brother to brother, blood to blood. “You are the dragon,” Dany whispered to him, “the true dragon. I know it. I know it.” And she smiled, and went to sleep dreaming of home.

AGOT Daenerys III

“Have you forgotten who you are? Look at you. Look at you!”

Dany did not need to look. She was barefoot, with oiled hair, wearing Dothraki riding leathers and a painted vest given her as a bride gift. She looked as though she belonged here. Viserys was soiled and stained in city silks and ringmail.

“What do you pray for, Ser Jorah?” she asked him.

“Home,” he said. His voice was thick with longing.

“I pray for home too,” she told him, believing it.

Ser Jorah laughed. “Look around you then, Khaleesi.”

But it was not the plains Dany saw then. It was King’s Landing and the great Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had built. It was Dragonstone where she had been born. In her mind’s eye they burned with a thousand lights, a fire blazing in every window. In her mind’s eye, all the doors were red.

AGOT Daenerys II

Dany had never felt so alone as she did seated in the midst of that vast horde. Her brother had told her to smile, and so she smiled until her face ached and the tears came unbidden to her eyes. She did her best to hide them, knowing how angry Viserys would be if he saw her crying, terrified of how Khal Drogo might react. Food was brought to her, steaming joints of meat and thick black sausages and Dothraki blood pies, and later fruits and sweetgrass stews and delicate pastries from the kitchens of Pentos, but she waved it all away. Her stomach was a roil, and she knew she could keep none of it down.

There was no one to talk to. Khal Drogo shouted commands and jests down to his bloodriders, and laughed at their replies, but he scarcely glanced at Dany beside him. They had no common language. Dothraki was incomprehensible to her, and the khal knew only a few words of the bastard Valyrian of the Free Cities, and none at all of the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms. She would even have welcomed the conversation of Illyrio and her brother, but they were too far below to hear her.

So she sat in her wedding silks, nursing a cup of honeyed wine, afraid to eat, talking silently to herself.

AGOT Daenerys I

When he was gone, Dany went to her window and looked out wistfully on the waters of the bay. The square brick towers of Pentos were black silhouettes outlined against the setting sun. Dany could hear the singing of the red priests as they lit their night fires and the shouts of ragged children playing games beyond the walls of the estate. For a moment she wished she could be out there with them, barefoot and breathless and dressed in tatters, with no past and no future and no feast to attend at Khal Drogo’s manse.

Somewhere beyond the sunset, across the narrow sea, lay a land of green hills and flowered plains and great rushing rivers, where towers of dark stone rose amidst magnificent blue-grey mountains, and armored knights rode to battle beneath the banners of their lords. The Dothraki called that land Rhaesh Andahli, the land of the Andals. In the Free Cities, they talked of Westeros and the Sunset Kingdoms. Her brother had a simpler name. “Our land,” he called it. The words were like a prayer with him. If he said them enough, the gods were sure to hear. “Ours by blood right, taken from us by treachery, but ours still, ours forever. You do not steal from the dragon, oh, no. The dragon remembers.”

And perhaps the dragon did remember, but Dany could not. She had never seen this land her brother said was theirs, this realm beyond the narrow sea. These places he talked of, Casterly Rock and the Eyrie, Highgarden and the Vale of Arryn, Dorne and the Isle of Faces, they were just words to her. Viserys had been a boy of eight when they fled King’s Landing to escape the advancing armies of the Usurper, but Daenerys had been only a quickening in their mother’s womb.

Yet sometimes Dany would picture the way it had been, so often had her brother told her the stories. The midnight flight to Dragonstone, moonlight shimmering on the ship’s black sails. Her brother Rhaegar battling the Usurper in the bloody waters of the Trident and dying for the woman he loved. The sack of King’s Landing by the ones Viserys called the Usurper’s dogs, the lords Lannister and Stark. Princess Elia of Dorne pleading for mercy as Rhaegar’s heir was ripped from her breast and murdered before her eyes. The polished skulls of the last dragons staring down sightlessly from the walls of the throne room while the Kingslayer opened Father’s throat with a golden sword.

She had been born on Dragonstone nine moons after their flight, while a raging summer storm threatened to rip the island fastness apart. They said that storm was terrible. The Targaryen fleet was smashed while it lay at anchor, and huge stone blocks were ripped from the parapets and sent hurtling into the wild waters of the narrow sea. Her mother had died birthing her, and for that her brother Viserys had never forgiven her.

She did not remember Dragonstone either. They had run again, just before the Usurper’s brother set sail with his new-built fleet. By then only Dragonstone itself, the ancient seat of their House, had remained of the Seven Kingdoms that had once been theirs. It would not remain for long. The garrison had been prepared to sell them to the Usurper, but one night Ser Willem Darry and four loyal men had broken into the nursery and stolen them both, along with her wet nurse, and set sail under cover of darkness for the safety of the Braavosian coast.

She remembered Ser Willem dimly, a great grey bear of a man, half-blind, roaring and bellowing orders from his sickbed. The servants had lived in terror of him, but he had always been kind to Dany. He called her “Little Princess” and sometimes “My Lady,” and his hands were soft as old leather. He never left his bed, though, and the smell of sickness clung to him day and night, a hot, moist, sickly sweet odor. That was when they lived in Braavos, in the big house with the red door. Dany had her own room there, with a lemon tree outside her window. After Ser Willem had died, the servants had stolen what little money they had left, and soon after they had been put out of the big house. Dany had cried when the red door closed behind them forever.

[...] “We will have it all back someday, sweet sister,” he would promise her. Sometimes his hands shook when he talked about it. “The jewels and the silks, Dragonstone and King’s Landing, the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms, all they have taken from us, we will have it back.” Viserys lived for that day. All that Daenerys wanted back was the big house with the red door, the lemon tree outside her window, the childhood she had never known.

“Those three are Drogo’s bloodriders, there,” he said. “By the pillar is Khal Moro, with his son Rhogoro. The man with the green beard is brother to the Archon of Tyrosh, and the man behind him is Ser Jorah Mormont.”

The last name caught Daenerys. “A knight?”

“No less.” Illyrio smiled through his beard. “Anointed with the seven oils by the High Septon himself.”

“What is he doing here?” she blurted.

“The Usurper wanted his head,” Illyrio told them. “Some trifling affront. He sold some poachers to a Tyroshi slaver instead of giving them to the Night’s Watch. Absurd law. A man should be able to do as he likes with his own chattel.”

“I shall wish to speak with Ser Jorah before the night is done,” her brother said. Dany found herself looking at the knight curiously. He was an older man, past forty and balding, but still strong and fit. Instead of silks and cottons, he wore wool and leather. His tunic was a dark green, embroidered with the likeness of a black bear standing on two legs.

She was still looking at this strange man from the homeland she had never known when Magister Illyrio placed a moist hand on her bare shoulder.

“I don’t want to be his queen,” she heard herself say in a small, thin voice. “Please, please, Viserys, I don’t want to, I want to go home.”

“Home?” He kept his voice low, but she could hear the fury in his tone. “How are we to go home, sweet sister? They took our home from us!” He drew her into the shadows, out of sight, his fingers digging into her skin. “How are we to go home?” he repeated, meaning King’s Landing, and Dragonstone, and all the realm they had lost.

Dany had only meant their rooms in Illyrio’s estate, no true home surely, though all they had, but her brother did not want to hear that. There was no home there for him. Even the big house with the red door had not been home for him. His fingers dug hard into her arm, demanding an answer. “I don’t know ...” she said at last, her voice breaking. Tears welled in her eyes.

#daenerys targaryen #a dance with dragons #a storm of swords #a clash of kings #a game of thrones #dany passages

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gildedink · 6 years ago

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Kōngběi-Hu, The North of Tenruon’ou - Geography

The area of Kōngběi-Hu is housed within the continent of Jiahuyen, which offers a variety of landscapes. The central area of the land mass in primarily flat plains, making it perfect for large fields for both farming and animal raising. The lower point it Peixang Lake, a natural mineral hot spring that some Ruzhidian scholars hypothesize used to be the site of a volcano. Small forests, glens and woods are scattered throughout though the largest ones tend to be closer to the coast. In addition are several rivers, streams, hilled areas and small mountain ranges.

Climate

The climate within the North has an even distribution of the four seasons though the higher prevalence of trees tends to lend itself to a more humid summer. Snow is present in the winter and snow can fall within the mountainous areas a month or two sooner than the rest of the general area. Ice will form in the waters around Amakin and the farthest northern area of Kōngběi-Hu, making sea travel impossible at this time. During the winter months any shipments are brought in via monthly caravans. The only body of water that does not ice over is the Peixang hot springs, a large lake in the central area of the North and a very popular vacation destination during this time of the year.

Flora consists of a large mixture of trees – including evergreens within the mountains, tropical trees on the border area with Jiteo-Sengu and both fruit-bearing trees and moderate climate trees prolific everywhere – as well as an abundance of fruits, honey and farmed wheat. Rice is primarily imported from Mikaizu, though a modest amount of crop is produced annual. Medicinal herbs that to by Peixang Lake and the Torgal Mountains cannot be found anywhere else due to their unique microclimates and are highly sought after by healers. A mixture of vegetables is also grown.

Fauna consists of both wild and domesticated mammals. Wild animals include monkeys, rabbits, boars, elk and deer, birds both predatory and non, foxes and jungle cats. Wolves are a known danger on the mountains. Many rare birds are also seen making their home near Amakin, most likely drawn by the presence of the Tanaka family. Domesticated animals make up a large portion of profits, providing food, clothing materials and labor. They include horses, cow and oxen, sheep, chickens and pigs. Villages closer to the mountains also raise goats. Horses in particular are seen as valuable due to ability to transport.

Key Geographical Features

Despite the variation in land geography, the extensive roadway system begun by order of Kyo Tanaka – the founder of the Tanaka family – and continued throughout the generation has made trekking to more remote areas or on difficult terrain easier. Despite the roadways, many particularly special landmarks have been preserved by law and instead any construction of towns must work with nature rather than force it down.

One location of note is the Dulong Valley, where the city of Huoyangxi is located by. It is quite deep and the primary source of iron ore for the North. The Smarnian tribe of Sugand’h is also said to reside within the valley. No one is certain how deep the valley goes, as the bottom has never been reached. As such, it is ill-advised to trek there without a guide. It is a popular tourist destination with those looking for thrills.

The Torgal Mountains are another key landmark of Kōngběi-Hu. These mountains are sacred to the Descendants of the Far North, a race of peoples easily marked by their pale, burn-prone skin, light, textured hair and light eyes. A festival is held on top of the mountains annually, bringing together all families involved. It is claimed to be the binding site of a horrific demon and as such no one should go on the mountain without permission. Only Far North descendants know how to navigate the mountain and many have died ignoring their warnings. It is unclear if simply the mountain itself killed them through exposure, cold or falling, or if there is truth to the legend of the demon.

Another interesting feature if the Daio’kesh River. It is the largest river in the North and cuts perfectly across the continent of Jiahuyen, from north to south. Smaller amounts of cargo are moved through the wide river and many imports requested by the Tanaka family are taken through there. The waters are typically calm though there are many rapids along the way. It is also a favorite stomping ground for inland pirates.

Cities

There are many small and mid-sized villages in the North, particularly along trade routes, rivers and the coast. However, there are six large cities in the North of note, each ruled by a Northern noble family.

Amakin

The city farthest north in Tenruon’ou and the home of the Tanaka Clan (who is Blessed by the Golden Phoenix) that rules the North. It is a port city surrounded by the Sharizelka Forest. It specializes in glass making, including tableware, glass windows and hand-blown glass figures. It also houses the Holy Flame, a piece of Phoenix fire left by the Phoenix King to be used, should Tenruon’ou ever be in peril.

Caoyin’ye

Ruled by the Song family (who is Blessed by the Jade Cricket), the city is renowned for its housing and producing of great musicians, artists, singers and composers. Also known as Molak’u’shiir’s Breath due to the constant wind that comes off of the Western Byu’gong Ocean, artists and bards of all kind flock to the School of the Mask to hone their skills before going out into the world. It tends to house a great many of families blessed by Songbird Spirits and its architecture is particularly color with design influenced from the North, Center and Hidden Villages.

Huoyangxi

Ruled by the Hjwang family (who is Blessed by the Crimson Dragon), the city is known for its spice making and delicate wood carvings. It has heavy ties with the Hidden Village of Sugand’h, who provides raw spices to the city. In return for being the main seller of spices for Sugand’h, the Hjwang clan provides protection for the Hidden Village, creating a symbiotic relationship. The city is located near the Dulong Valley.

Ruzhid

Overseen by the Luo family (who is Blessed by the Tawny Owl), the city prides itself on cultivating an atmosphere of learning, philosophy and spirituality. Located near the Peixang Lake – known for its natural mineral hot springs and medicinal herbs – the city is the epicenter of worldly balance. Many minor Spirits of the Sky and Earth visit here, causing the air to be purer than usual. It houses the Ruzhid School of Diplomacy and Spirit Studies, which has produced many well-known priests, scholars and court advisors throughout the centuries.

Shuyi’wo

Ruled by the Ŭn family (who is Blessed by the Snowy Crane), the city is surrounded by expansive meadows and dotted with marshes. Many roads lead to it, due to it being a boarder city. The city is a melting pot between the cultures of the North and Center and as such, has an expansive array of cuisine. Nicknamed by food aficionados as the Gourmand City, the city holds contests throughout the year for any chef - old or young, amateur or experienced – to compete for fame, money and possible service contracts. Even participants from the South are allowed in via special travel papers that must be secured in advanced.

Yangjin

Located on the coast of the East Byu’gong Sea, it is the only major city not ruled by a noble family. Rather, it is run communally, with an acting board that oversees the city. These representatives of the populace run for office and elections are held once every 7 years. A tourist city, it is known for its unusual pink beaches and pink sand export to Amakin. A few kilometers away from the edge of town is the Yinhyang Glades, a forest filled with unique fruits and flora. It is rumored the Chikai’yu Tree is hidden somewhere within the glade.

Tag list: @omgbrekkerkaz @ikilledmyocs @nepeinthe @hollenzwei @ecririe @writeblrnet @sadragons @hazeywrites @the-ichor-of-ruination @thethew

#series: legend of the red comet #worldbuilding: legend of the red comet #worldbuilding: the north

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awhilesince · 3 years ago

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Tuesday, 28 August 1827 (travel journals)

11 1/2

Breakfast at 6 – off from Geneva at 7 20/60 –

at 7 50/60 Chesne, very good village Geneva to Bonneville 6 lieues)

at 8 20/60 little village of Annemasse, 1st village in Savoy, Bonneville to Sallenche 6) and shew our passports –

at 8 50/60 (having passed the village of Vetra at unawares – it must be very inconsiderable) handsome 2 arched stone bridge (1 arch very large the other very small, over the nearly dry torrent Ménoge –

at 9 1/4 picturesque, scattered village of Nangy – the rocks (southwest) over Geneva, remind me of the Elwsig (Lusig) rocks over Langollen – fine open valley all along – roomy for the air to circulate – Mrs and Miss B– [Barlow] complained of the cold – I merely felt the air delightfully bracing – the hills about Geneva to as far as Nangy, remind me of H–x [Halifax] – Everywhere the valley and hills sufficiently wooded –

at 10 picturesque little village of Contamine – the Arve (not much water now – the very broad bed almost all dry) winding beautifully all the well wooded fertile valley – good deal of corn in the valley, and on the hills – good deal of flax drying – young buck wheat – clover – mowing it 2nd time – orchards – good land – hedges generally on each side the road – oaks and willows – a little Indian corn – very few vines since Geneva, near Bonneville –

stopt at the ‘les Balances’ Bonneville (a tolerable little town) at 11 5/60 – came upstairs to write – 1/2 hour before I could begin – had near spoilt all my things – the Table had been just oiled, and not 1/2 wiped – They say the Swiss are on all sides (the protestants who are much cleaner and richer than the Roman catholics) are much cleaner than their neighbours – but, according to the woman who shewed us the cathedral at Geneva on Sunday, the catholic population increases much faster than the protestant – the former has 6 or 7 or even more children per family; –the latter (particularly those in more easy circles) has seldom more than 2 per family – I fancied this kind of management had been principally confined to the higher orders in France –

off from Bonneville (should not like to sleep at the Inn – not very clean, but the people very civil

at 1 25/60 – town, a ville, surrounded by fine picturesque rocky hill partly green, partly bare and hoary – immediately cross the Arve over good stone bridge (at the end left, a new handsome Tuscan column surmounted by a statue of the King in his robes, in honour of Charles Felix King of Sardinia) who visited the town some time ago) and, according to Galignani, enter the valley of Cluse – snow mountains in the distance (left) in front of us – 2 little hop grounds just out of town – cutting line – fertile valley – clover, young buckwheat, Indian corn, potatoes Kidney beans – orchard trees – like a garden – poplars and willows along the road side, and the chief wood hereabouts –

at 1 55/60 stone bridge over little stream –

at 3 10/60 the Arve winding beautifully – Green, wooded hills (right) bare, and savage (left), – snow mountains to the left in front, and pretty little village of Oogu (Vaugi? Vougy) at 3 1/4 – Jane thinks this valley ‘beautiful, lovely – the next to the Rhinthal and the Splugen’ (road from Splugen to Chiavénna) – so far, Jane rather disappointed – tho’ tis a pine valley –

at 2 3/4 little stone bridge over little torrent – at 2 55/60 another such stone bridge over ditto, and fine gorge right, and orchards, and picturesque scattered village of Siongy Scionzier and midway the village

(at 3) good stone bridge over good stream – neat, picturesque church – very fine walnut trees – and 2 or 3 little green hedged paddocks at the end of the village – valley wider, and finer – very pretty – fine just here, tho’ do not see the Arve –

At 3 10/60 narrow one arched, boulder-stone-paved steepish stone bridge over the Arve (ver[y] fine gorge right) and enter the beautifully situated, but rather narrow streeted little town of Cluse – all the women busy dressing hemp – tremendous mountains just above the Town – wind thro’ the town to the right, and Turn along the fine gorge which we just peeped down (right) from the bridge – (between Cluse and the village next before very large apple and pear trees and (2 or 3 of the largest cherry Trees (like fine large forest trees) I ever saw in my life) the gorge (the valley of Maglan) now, at 3 1/4, very fine – the Arve close, right – its waters light-green-white-muddy-blue – its broad bed and the road take up all the breadth of the valley –

at 3 3/4 an auberge? 3 little cannon, and a man wishing to know if we would have them fired to hear the echo among the mountains – another man apparently an aubergiste wanted us to stop to see the Grotte de Balme (vide Ebel. Cluse. page 96.) 1200 feet up the mountain (seemed about 1/2 way up) and 620 ‘pas’ long – said we had quite time enough – could not get to Chamouni tonight – asked what time it would require – ‘vingt minutes pour monter à cheval – la route très bonne’ – observed a zigzag path cut from the bottom of the mountain to the cavern – the mouth 1/2 closed up so that one could not enter without paying – Everything herabouts is done to catch the eye and Empty the pocket of strangers – to have had the cannon fired would have cost us 2/. – valley wider beyond, and beautifully wooded (right), and the mountains by and by wearing into a gradual slope –

at 4 5/60 the picturesque village of Maglan picturesque little good church – good deal of beech wood – the wood of the mountains hereabouts chiefly beech? –

at 4 1/4, little stone bridge over dry little bed of torrent – at 4 1/2 little stone bridge over ditto ditto, and fine ripple cascade (Nant d’ Orli) (i.e. as it were, one long thin line of cascade) left –

at 4 35/60 a board put up on which in large letters ‘Place de’ Echo de Nant d’ Arpenas’ and a man and one little cannon – he wanted much to fire it for us assuring us it was very curious –

at 4 40/60 small stone bridge over dry torrent –

at 4 3/4 stone bridge over the stream from Nant d’ Arpenas, really curious – stopt a few minutes to see it – the water lost in spray Till collected lower down into 8 or 9 ripples forming a little cascade near and down to the bottom – Descends from a little cleft at the Top of the mountain – the jet (not large) projected so far, the rock quite dry underneath it for the first 50 or 60 feet – falls 800 feet – (vide Ebel. article, Cluse) the sun of which we had had but little during the day just made his appearance to shew us a beautiful little Iris round the cascade at the bottom – just beyond the cascade the strata of the rock curious

then

then apparently a jumble – reminds one strongly of the action of water – I have seen instances of this kind before among these Swiss mountains – along the Simplon road, and along the Valais – Low hemp uncut –

at 5 stone bridge over torrent – fine view of Sallanche (right) on the other side the river – bed of river very broad – looking almost dry, tho’ there is in fact a strong broad stream – rosemary hedges full of yellow berries –

at 5 20/60 neat little hamlet or village and neat little church of St. Martin – and Mont Blanc a nice looking little Inn – immediately cross handsome 1 arched narrowing, stupish bridge over the Arve, and at 5 35/60 alight à la Belle Vue, at Sallenche, a picturesque little Town, (very handsome church) at the foot of high finely wooded and grass clothed mountains – not one peep of Mont Blanc –

began to write at 6 – but soon gave up to see the clouds gradually clear off from the mountain – 1st sight of it at 6 ¼ – stupendous – astonishing – worth while to come all the way to see it – capital house for a view of it – had been Twice before today quite clear – stood gazing 20 minutes at the 3 huge summits –

Dinner from 6 35/60 to 8 20/60 – for the 1st ¼ hour gazing at the mountain till clouds hid him again at about 6 50/60 – the setting sun upon him magnificent – 2 hills catching the reflection of the rays from the mountain, seemed as if on fire – Ive stood gazing in mute wonder –

at 8 50/60 music 2 or 3 clarionets – very fairly played – very fine day – not much sun – but warm enough for me –

reference number: SH:7/ML/TR/2/0015 - 16

#annelistercodebreaker #annelister #mrsbarlow #traveljournals #switzerland1827 #montblanc

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horseranches121 · 4 years ago

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Bozeman Ranches

They claim that the state of Montana is the last great frontier, yet Montana is moreover, it is a fantastic location that is filled up with so much to do yet ranches for sale uses lots of areas that are off the beaten course. Montana not just has many benefits to those that see on an annual basis, yet it additionally has several benefits to those who live there on a long-term basis.

Right here are several of the large advantages that living in Montana brings:

• No Sales Tax: That's right; invest away if you live in Montana since the sales tax obligation there is a tremendous 0%. That means more cash in your pocket as well as much less that you need to offer to old Uncle Sam. Don't feel bad however, he always seems to get his reasonable share.

• Summer Season Activities: Montana is home to part of the Rocky Hills and in the summertime time there is no far better area to be. Mountain cycling, angling, and also backpacking are all component of what the Mountain ranges have to use its homeowners every year. Part of Yellowstone National Park is additionally in Montana and also you can appreciate warm springtimes as well as even more fishing when you choose to take a trip there.

• Angling: In case you missed it from the last pair of factors, Montana is known around the world for its great angling. Fly angling is especially prominent in the terrific state and lots of fishermens that simply can not obtain sufficient of the remarkable catches that Montana needs to use wind up discovering themselves as irreversible locals before as well lengthy.

• Wintertime Triggers: When it gets chilly out as well as the white powder begins to drop, the state of Montana turns right into among the ideal put on Earth to be for winter sports. The state flaunts lots of different ski resorts as well as some globe class inclines making the state the ideal household place for miraculous ski lover.

• Get Away from the Group: Among the best aspects of residing in Montana is the fact that you can be near all the action, but still not be in the thick of it whatsoever times. That is since Montana still has many smaller sized towns as well as cities that have continued to be little in population for many years. Simply because they are tiny, doesn't mean that they are out in the boon-docks either. Much of Montana's smaller sized areas lie just miles outside of the larger and also extra populous locations such as Payments. This supplies the perfect circumstance for a person who intends to reside in private, however still be close enough to enter into the fray of things when they intend to.

Montana may be the last great frontier, yet if you are into the outdoors as well as enjoy serene living with activity simply around the bend, then this state might be for you. While a see there will certainly give you a taste of what the state has to offer, only living there Trout fishing in Montana seems as if it should literally be a method of life. In numerous methods the term 'trout fishing' and also the state of Montana are instantly thought of with each other. I do not recognize if it's as a result of films or what, but the state of Montana as well as trout fishing fit together like a hand and also a handwear cover. When many individuals assume of trout angling in Montana, they immediately think about fly angling, or flea flicking as my coach used to describe it. There is a hefty set of fishermens that enjoy swing plumes in the air in Montana, yet keep in mind: there's greater than one means to skin a cat, and for me directly the only time I get anywhere near a plume is at the neighborhood pond. I would not 'flip a flea' if you place a gun to my head, and still I mange to catch a lot of trout. That's best everybody, trout angling in Montana, doesn't need to involve a fishing pole!

All I recognize without a doubt is that trout angling in Montana is a lot different than the trout angling that I matured with in central Pennsylvania. Why is it so different? Is it the methods as well as methods in which the fish are captured? No, the techniques and approaches are all the very same, the distinction is that the trout are a lot, much larger in Montana. The quality of the trout in the wonderful state of Montana differs from anything I had ever experienced.

Trout angling in Montana is as much about there calmness and also amazing scenery as anything. I mean it does not hurt that there are a great deal of large native trout swimming in Montana's' waters also. The trout angling in Montana really is fairly great, and as I alluded to, this goes for spin angling. Whatever your preferred method happens to be, Montana can most likely provide it when it comes to trout fishing. An extremely popular technique (and my preferred) is to pull on a pair of waders and fish the smaller sized rivers and streams the means God meant ... while standing in the water.

Being bordered by the beautiful hills of Montana, while catching 15 + inch native trout for hrs at a time, is a bunch of fun. A really reliable technique for doing this precise point is to utilize a set of gang hooks and live worms. Gang hooks are merely 2 little hooks incorporated tandem. Gang hooks are one of the most reliable way to provide an online worm, as well as the trout of Montana fall sufferer for the method all the time. Gang hooks really service all bodies of water; it's just that they appear to function particularly well in Montana waters. Ensure you inspect local laws since in some location's real-time lure can not be utilized. This is an extremely idiotic regulation that most of us have flea flickers to say thanks to for. The legislation makes absolutely no feeling, but the fact remains that you should check your local laws.

The various other thing to take note of while trout angling in Montana is the weather condition. They claim that if you do not like the climate in Montana, wait 5 minutes and it will alter. It's not quite this extreme, yet utilizing the weather condition to your advantage while angling is a fantastic concept. All the details that you need about the climate as well as fishing can be located in this COMPLIMENTARY Electronic book. Or you can do some research yourself, the option is yours.

The lower line is that in most cases, Montana trout angling is comparable to it obtains anywhere in the country, as well as the surroundings isn't too poor either. As well as the reality that in some parts of Northwest Montana, a bear assault is never ever out of the question. This little bit of info should help keep you on your toes! Actually this would only be an opportunity if you were trout angling deep in the mountains, yet still you never ever know? Discover out for yourself just how terrific the trout fishing truly is in the terrific state of Montana if you obtain the possibility. will certainly reveal you truth capacity and all the advantages that Montana presents its homeowners on a daily basis.

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#Montana #Bozeman

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nextdestinationunknown · 6 years ago

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Day 65 (8/4/14): Missoula, MT | Dubois, WY

We left Montana this morning and started driving to Wyoming, passing the Madison River on the way. Our route took us through Yellowstone National Park, which begins right on the border of Wyoming. To my dismay, there was no “Welcome to Wyoming” sign to welcome us as we crossed the state line shortly after entering the park.

The entrance fee for Yellowstone was $25, which was good for one week and also included Grand Teton National Park. The park pass worked out well because we also had to drive through Grand Teton and planned on returning later to enjoy the parks more. They were both easy to drive through with a truck towing a trailer, and Yellowstone had many large turn-outs.

However, we had a long drive from Montana to our campground in Dubois, WY. We wanted to go back to Yellowstone on another day without the trailer to spend more time there and truly be able to appreciate the park. After driving through Yellowstone and exiting Grand Teton National Park (the two parks are connected), the scenic landscape we passed was comparable to the parks without the entrance fee.

Wind River

As we continued driving, we discovered that Wyoming has a diverse landscape. It seems like one minute, it’s green and densely forested, and the next, it’s desert with red and white striped hills. We settled down in a little RV campground right on the Wind River. Lucky for us, one of our neighbors requested to switch sites with us due to us having a massive site and them having an enormous Class A Motorhome and trailer. We gladly obliged since their site was directly across from the river, giving us a lovely view from our trailer.

Day 66 (8/5/14): Dubois, WY

We took a step back to the dark ages at this campground as far as technology goes. We had planned on using this day to book several of our next campgrounds in advance. However, when we went to call them to make reservations, we discovered that we had zero cell phone reception. Go figure. We try to actually plan ahead for once but can’t. We made the most of the situation though with me working on the blog and Justin cleaning the truck and trailer.

Later in the day, we drove into nearby Dubois, a quirky little Western town with antler sculptures and animal statues. Justin particularly liked the giant jackalope at the gas station and the over-sized skull (complete with horns) at the local laundromat. We grabbed a late lunch at the Cowboy Cafe. Justin LOVED their Swiss-Mushroom Chicken Fried Steak and hasn’t stopped talking about it since. Sauteed mushrooms, white country gravy, and an inch-thick steak fried to perfection – Justin was one happy camper. 🙂

Dubois, WY

Day 67 (8/6/14): Yellowstone National Park

Lewis Falls

We were on the road by 7:00am and reached Yellowstone National Park by 8:30am. We had strategically planned our visit to Yellowstone the night before to make sure we saw every point of interest we wanted to see. We entered the park through the south entrance, and our first stop was Lewis Falls. The decent size waterfall increased our excitement for the Upper and Lower Falls of the upcoming Grand Canyon. As we continued driving, we came across some wild elk!

Next we visited Mud Volcano and Dragon’s Mouth where we saw a wild bison! As we were walking up to the hydrothermal features, we spotted the bison coming down a hill. Before we knew it, the bison had made his way down and started walking through the parking lot below. It was a crazy sight to see a wild animal (and a large one at that) strolling through the vehicles.

He continued through the parking lot back into the land surrounding the points of interest. Ironically, rather than walking on the grass surrounding both sides of the asphalt path leading from the parking lot, the bison took the paved path instead. We thought he was long gone. However, as we walked along the boardwalk, the bison made another appearance and actually crossed over the boardwalk directly in front of us!

Elk!

Look…! A bison!

Coming down the hill!

Heading for the asphalt

Moseying through the parking lot

RIght in front of our truck!

Mud Volcano

After the surreal distraction of being so close to the bison, we finally saw what we had stopped to see in the first place. Mud Volcano was a gurgling pool of mud with ribbons of silver swirling around the bubbles. It reminded Justin of a soupy, chocolate milkshake. However, if you see it in the winter, it’s thicker and would probably more closely resemble an actual milkshake.

Dragon’s Mouth

Next we viewed Dragon’s Mouth with steam spewing from it’s opening. It literally sounded like a dragon burping from acid reflux and smelled like it as well due to the sulfur.

From Dragon’s Mouth, we made our way over to the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone National Park where we viewed the Upper and Lower Falls. The further up you go, the better the view gets at Artist Point. We also went to the Brink of the Upper Falls. From the top, you look down at the 109-feet tall waterfall. Being that close to the falls, the roaring sound of the water is almost deafening as it crashes below.

Upper Falls

Lower Falls

Brink of the Upper Falls

After gazing at the waterfall cutting through the canyon, we kept driving through Yellowstone and saw countless pillars of steam rising from the earth’s surface along the way.

Stopping at the Lower Geyser Basin, we took the Fountain Paint Pot Trail where we enjoyed seeing the aqua blue Silex Spring, the muddy Paint Pots, Red Spouter, the bubbling fumarole and the active Spasm Geyser.

Silex Spring

Fountain Paint Pot

Red Spouter

Spasm Geyser

Next at the Midway Geyser Basin, we loved the hot springs running into a stream below the boardwalk trail. We also saw the thermal spring of Excelsior Geyser with it’s churning water as well as the Grand Prismatic Spring, the largest hot spring in Yellowstone.

Excelsior Geyser

Grand Prismatic Spring

We continued on to the colorful Biscuit Basin, our favorite of the geyser basins. The crystal-clear, intensely blue water of the Sapphire Pool was out-of-this-world! Jewel Geyser was also fun to see as it erupted when we walked by.

Jewel Geyser

Sapphire Pool

Old Faithful!

No trip to Yellowstone would be complete though without seeing Old Faithful, so that’s where we decided to finish up our tour of the national park. We hunkered down on a bench with the rest of the people encircling the geyser waiting for it to erupt. After gazing at Old Faithful for about half an hour, we finally saw it blow!

We had originally thought we could see Yellowstone and Jackson Hole, WY in one day, but that didn’t work out. We ended up spending the entire rainy day in Yellowstone as there was so much to stop to see. There are fascinating geothermal features everywhere! Even with a whole day in the park, we didn’t get to see everything. I can definitely understand why people camp there for multiple days.

Day 68 (8/7/14): Grand Teton National Park | Jackson Hole, WY

Since we didn’t get to visit Jackson Hole, WY yesterday as we had originally planned, we used today to see it. On the way there, we drove through Grand Teton National Park again and were treated to an amazing view of the impressive mountain range.

Once we reached Jackson, we walked around the Town Square. Each corner of the square has an arch made entirely of antlers adding to the charm of the town. I would describe Jackson as an upscale Western town complete with horse-drawn stagecoach rides.

After strolling past the shops and grabbing lunch, we headed about 32 miles southeast of Jackson to Granite Hot Springs in the Bridger-Teton National Forest. Justin used to camp with his family near the hot springs when he was a boy and had been wanting to take me to the nostalgic spot.

We took route 191 south for 12 miles to the Hoback Junction where we turned left. We then drove another 10 miles or so before we made another left at Granite Hot Springs Road. It was a dirt road that lasted about 10 miles before we finally reached the hot springs.

Granite Hot Springs

It’s actually a large man-made pool fed by a hot spring. The pool gets to be 8 feet deep and has a small seating area where the water comes in from the mountain. The water is quite warm, making you feel like you’re swimming in a massive bathtub. As we were soaking in the hot springs, it started raining.

It’s rained pretty much every day we’ve been in Wyoming, but we didn’t mind. We like the rain and enjoyed it’s refreshing droplets, especially while we were in the warm water. As we were driving back to our campground in Dubois, it continued raining. At one point though, the temperature dropped to 42 degrees Fahrenheit, and there was snow on the ground! In August! As pretty as northwest Wyoming was, I wouldn’t be able to handle it’s winters, especially if it snows in the summer!

New Blog! Days 65-68: Montana & Wyoming http://wp.me/p4tmBz-uc Day 65 (8/4/14): Missoula, MT | Dubois, WY We left Montana this morning and started driving to Wyoming, passing the Madison River on the way.

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