The Harsh Reality of Winter: A Game of Thrones Poem-Story





Original title: Winter

I know this scenario is highly unlikely, but I love Jon Snow’s character TO DEATH and I wrote this from the bottom of my heart so enjoy (and no, it’s not racy fan fic porn). Takes place during Season 2 Episode 1, a little bit after that scene where Jon and crew visit some guy’s wooden house. I tried to keep the “medieval” voice/writing style (which I love).


Her legs trembled in the cold

Alone, binding through the woods

She stood out from the harsh surroundings

A torn and tattered dress that had peasant written all over it,

Brown legs that seemed much too alien to originate from the area…

This was her, unnamed girl, wandering the cold without proper foot-coverings

She happened upon a strange place

Where she saw a boy—no, a young man—walking by

She quickly dove, avoiding all contact with that weird alien

He heard her sounds, became alarmed

Withdrawing his sword, the man of the snow surveyed his surroundings

Nothing there, nothing here

He wouldn’t let go of his slight fear, not that easily

She shifted through the snow, trying to escape

He spotted her behind the tree, quickly and surely

He was faster than she, throwing her to the ground and sticking his sword at her throat

It was then he realized, this unknown girl was but a child

He guessed she was three or four years below his ageyear

“Are you going to hurt me like all the others?” she asked through tears, “are you going to hurt me, paleman?”

He was taken aback, mirroring himself within her innocence

“I’m a Dragon! now stay away before—before I set you ablaze!” she shouted.

He chuckled, “you are not a Dragon.”

She backed away, still fearing this man, “yes I am!”

“Where is your tail, Dragon?”

She stammered, “it’s not that easy…”

Life, she meant, was not that easy

That’s how he interpreted her utterance of words

She was still shaken, her arms trembling in the cold snow

“Where is your family?” he asked, knowing better than to say such a thing.

“Dead,” she said without remorse, “dead like all the others.”

Having been through a heavy loss himself, he could see the sadness that plagued her eyes rather than her words.

“You’re from the wall, aren’t you?”

He expected that question, “yes, I am.”

“I knew you had to be. A man dressed like you with a shiny sword and clean skin is no wildling.”

She drew her legs closer to her chest and buried her face

The tears came faster than ever

Maybe she was sensing the sadness coming off this man?

He reached out to her, but quickly drew away

I shall take no wife

He must remember his vows

Suppress any and all feelings…

He didn’t want to feel anything for her

She was nothing

He must remain as-is, unchanged by human calling

“I wish this place never existed,” she said through tears, “what is it like in Westeros? Is there fresh water? A bed? Love?”

He wanted to answer, speak calmly to her, but he remained silent

For his own good

“I’ve never known love. Been through it too much to know what becomes of my heart if I fall for it.”

Stop talking, he said to himself

He wanted the madness to desist spilling from her mouth

Her words were a tragedy encased in ice

She looked up at him, tears staining her skin

She was as dark as the night

He had never seen such a girl; he never knew his opposite existed

“Are you good? Are you a nice person?”

Her questions sounded so accusing

“Yes,” he said, his heart hesitating

She covered her ears and closed her eyes tight, “Dragons aren’t meant to love. Dragons aren’t meant to love…” she kept whispering and quivering. She asked him, her voice as clear as water, “how do I know you aren’t lying?”

That was it

That broke him to pieces

He reached out to her and gently took her by the hand

I shall take no wife

He drew away, realizing his emotions were deceiving him

Just this once, shatter the rules

No one will pay witness to his actions

Dragons don’t love

She doesn’t know love; she chooses not to welcome it

He was different…slightly different

She wanted to stand up and walk away, but her legs were still

The cold snow began to immobilize her

“One last question, paleman,” her voice was still trembling, “do you know love?”

Jon Snow couldn’t find a right answer

which love was she referring to?

Is she talking about the comforting love of a family or the romance of lovers, if any?

He took her by the hand again, pushing away all thoughts

Shattering the vow for one moment, he embraced this girl with a short but sweet kiss

It was the only sweet thing she would be getting in this harsh cold

She felt a flurry of thoughts and her mind could not suppress them

Jon was on the path of letting himself go

He quickly straightened himself

He would never lay his lips on another girl, no matter how sorry he felt

Dismiss it! Ye shall take no wife

Ye shall feel no romance!

“I don’t know what I feel,” he said, breaking the silence

She touched her lips, trying to recreate the scene in her mind

Trying to relish that “kiss of life”

“Wh…what is your name?” she asked in a state of bewilderment.

“Jon Snow,” he replied, not seeing anything to be happy about.

She became alarmed when she spotted a giant boulder trotting towards them

When it came closer she saw it was another young man.

“Jon!” it called through exasperated huffs, “Jon!”

The unknown girl stood up, looking the fat human in the eyes.

“What is your business with Jon Snow?” she asked, her tone unrelenting.

“What?” the fat human was confused and annoyed, “who are you?”

“A dragon,” she replied, her tone unchanging. The color of her pupils shifted to a sickening red color that told many wordless tales.

Jon immediately stood, trying to not act surprised

“Where in the gods’ name have you been?” asked Samwell.

“I found this girl out here,” said Jon, he lowered his voice, “she’s alone.”

Samwell took a glance at her and said, “She is?”

“Yes,” Jon’s voice was now a whisper, “We cannot leave her out her,”

“Well…um…we can’t take her back,” said Samwell, his voice too a whisper.

Jon looked back at the girl, whom was twiddling with her fingers. He was at a loss for words and thoughts.

Take her with us, and they’ll suspect…they’ll know…I must not form an attachment to her.

Leave her out here; let her live like the Wildlings. The Wall is no better.

Jon was becoming conflicted with choices.

This was the harsh reality of winter.



There’s a bit of interracial love going on in this story. This is the first ever interracial love fan fic for Game of Thrones! Jon Snow with a black/African girl, I love my mind! And yes, I intended for the girl to be a Dragon shifter in case you didn’t catch that. Maybe, if I do another story with these two, I’ll link her with the Targaryens.

~Top images~

*My Jon Snow by AlexEnd2a:

*Jon Snow by AmiaEm:

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