Jon Snow

Jon Snow…

I couldn’t shake the feeling. Not the one from the cool breeze of the air, or even the one associated with my clothes a little too loose. It was the one that told me death was close. I sat along a darkened log, tainted with the white of snow. Unlike the many trees scurried about, this log was like me- alone.

For my entire life, the closest family member I had was death. It took my half family the Starks. I’m still surprised they’re gone because they were essentially the main characters to my story. Hell, I can’t even tell if all of them are dead or alive. For the ones that are, I can only assume they are probably in the hands of those damn Lannisters. I don’t recall meeting one, at least for over five minutes, but it wouldn’t phase me if they ended the Stark bloodline.

                I lost the girl I loved too, at the hands of a boy I saved. I guess that is supposed to be some foreshadowing of its own. That I’m to die at the hands of someone I save. I always wondered what my own death would be like. Because I am who I am, I thought I would die with no meaning. Being a bastard always means you mean nothing to the world; I guess that’s why my name is what it is.

Jon Snow…

                I feel the cool air tighten my skin. For the first time in a day, I think if death truly wanted me, he could take me right here, right now. There was no soul to save me out here in the wilderness. No twist of fate that could suddenly make things better. No good that could overcome the evil that fills this world- evil that will eventually be wearing the crown.

Jon Snow….

Being surrounded by death only makes you die in the inside from the anticipation it gives you. It can reverse to flow of your blood, making it a poison that kills not quick but slowly. Slow enough to feel all of the pain. However, if that were the case, I’d have been dead for a while. I suppose it could be by fate or even luck that I am still alive, yet my expectations of living are slim. Which is why I’m here, living to eventually fight for a cause that that will result in my probable death.

Jon Snow…

                Seconds pass by and it makes me think. If death truly was to welcome me at the front door of my soul, then I was to make sure that my life would not go to waste. By now, I am at a point where I have nothing to lose- that I have nobody to lose. All of this has made me realize that if I am to die anyways, why not die of worth. Why not die for the same thing taking the lives of many who believe they can have something they never will? Why not die for the crown?

                Surely, I’ll die a young bastard, but a bastard who managed to beat odds and fight his way into that thrown. This is a world of life and death after all, and because my days are numbered, they will be days spent fighting until my last breath. So death, I ask that you try and give me all that you’ve got- I’m neither scared nor worried for my own life. That much I do know. That I, Jon Snow, will not die a lone bastard left in the cold for his entire life, but a king of the seven realms.

                 The breeze continued, leaving me to close my eyes. I expected to only hear it’s whistle continue to flow about my ears, but instead heard something that should have chilled me. Something that should have made me want to die right there. Not because of the words, but because of who said them in a light whispering raspy voice:

You know nothing, Jon Snow…