A look back at Daenerys and Ser Jorah during Season 2 and A Clash Of Kings
At the end of our re-read, Dany, Ser Jorah and Khal Drogo will be collaborating on “The House of the Undying”
Daenerys Targaryen“The Red Waste” (POV)
The Khalasar walked alone gazing out at the red sun-scorched clay ahead of them. Before leaving the grasslands, Ser Jorah had been hesitant about marching on toward Westeros. Sun and red rock were all that loomed before us and behind was my weary Khalasar and their fallen. Drogon’s tail swirled around my arm as he hissed and snarled looking for food. ~remembering Viserys telling me as a little girl that Dragons only ate meat, charred~ The raw horse flesh was not going to sustain my dragons and they were such little things, weak and dependent on me. That night, we made camp. I burnt some meat and my children gobbled it down. It was good to seem them full and happy.
My best horses were now being ridden by my blood riders, and the horses left behind were either dying or dead, forcing us to leave much and more behind. This night, I would lay beneath the stars upon my Lion skin. Sleep came fast. I began dreaming that I was riding upon Drogon, his black wings so large, they blocked the light of the sun, casting a massive shadow below. We swept upward into the clouds ~I felt every bit a Queen, fierce and strong…untouchable~ . From a clear blue sky filled with large soft clouds, a storm was raging, white and cold. Drogon continued into the storm unphazed by my commands to turn away. Even the the lick of my whip would not stop him. Fast approaching, what looked to be a wall larger than any mountain I had ever seen, so close to us that I saw Drogons reflection upon it’s icy surface. I thought surely we would crash into this monstrosity. Then suddenly, I was alone. I could see nothing but blankets of snow for leagues ~calling to Drogon, begging him to come back, but there was no response only wind, or was it the wind?~ I heard voices quietly whispering, “A Raven from the North that fly’s East may send you West,” Then softer still, as if fading away, “In the North, the war is to be fought with Fire and Ice,” ~freezing with teeth chattering, I whispered back, “hush I’m tired of riddles”.~
I awoke to Ser Jorah staring intently at me asking why I screamed out, “Go North.”. I answered ,“I don’t know. I wish I did.”. I reached for my skin, so that I might sip some water. My cracked lips stung as I drank the warm water.
Ser Jorah, gather the Khalesar. It is better to travel by night. ~though the night in truth was not much cooler, still the moon was much kinder to our skin than the sun.~.
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