Author's Note: I wrote this for my journal in Creative Writing about three or four months ago. I figured I would share it with you all. It's a narrative poem with a rhyme scheme.
Basically, the poem is based around my OC, Sheera, who is blessed (or cursed) with the ability to shape-shift into a white lioness. The idea is that the Old Gods bless certain individuals with this ability randomly and was inspired by Arya Stark in Season 2 when she was talking about Robb. "They say he can even turn into a wolf himself when he wants. They say he can't be killed."
The Old Gods' Gifts
Day or night, she shifts
From human to lioness
Hallowed, the Old Gods' gifts
Of the wilder's baroness
He is the Lord on high
The Warden of the West
The Old Lion, he's called
With a soul unrest
Priestess and Lord meet
During the winter cold
When there is little meat
To be found within the fold
He sees her as the lioness
Beautiful and fair
She sees him as he is
A man who would dare
He offers her a pheasant
Freshly-killed and warm
Hesitantly she comes forward
And the bond begins to form
She eats the lion's share
Leaving only bone and feather
He admires her snow-white fur
And eyes of blue heather
He takes her in as his
Gives her sanctuary fair
Upon the Rock she lives then
Seated at the foot of his chair
The Lord knows not the truth
Until one day reveals
All the needed proof
That she has tried to conceal
An assassin's blade cuts fast
But does not reach its mark
Blood stains her teeth
And reveals those secrets dark
Blood is blessed with iron
That which magic's rendered
To the human form again
She is forced to surrender
There is a spark of anger
In the Old Lion's heart
But too, he is confused
He knows not where to start
She has been at his side
His companion and friend
But now he is lost
Does he put her life to an end?
Witch, the septon calls her
His hatred undisguised
Daughter of the old ways
With a future now revised
Away he sends his men
His children and the septon
So that he may assess the truth
Behind her deception
She whispers her story
A tale long and tragic
Of a young girl of Sunspear
Beset with the Old Gods' magic
Chased from her mother's den
And upon the wolves they set
This girl of only thirteen
No red flower yet
Escaping to the desert
She traveled very far
Past the woodland trees
To Westerland's Star
Lannisport was beautiful
But she was not wanted there
For she was the strange one
At whom all boys stared
So to the forest she went again
Safe within its trees
Until the long winter came
And the air began to freeze
When they came to meet
She had been alone
And finally she found the purpose
The seams that Fate had sewn
She told him she would have stayed
In that form forever
But Fate was not so kind
Always the fair-weather
The Lord felt displeasure
Anger deep within
But he could not turn her away
For the truth was, she was him
Alone they both were
Seeking a bond deep
And the Gods' blessed them
With a love that was to keep
Thank you for reading this! I'm considering turning this into a fanfiction but my fanfic writing is very much incentive-based. If you'd like me to write the fanfiction for this, I'd appreciate a review or some sort of indication that you, the readers, would like me to write it and would be willing to read it. Otherwise, the poem will remain as is. :)