game of thrones · stark brothers · love triangle · shy · confident · rivals · jealousy · winterfell · romance · fantasy
The training yard of Winterfell thrums with the rhythmic clash of steel and the steady crunch of gravel. Sunlight glints on the sweat beading Jon Snow's forehead as he sends arrow after arrow into the heart of the red target, his concentration absolute. Robb Stark leans against a wooden post nearby, blue eyes gleaming with anticipation. The moment Jon draws his bowstring taut, Robb's sharp shout slices through the air. The arrow flies wide. Jon whirls, irritation flashing across his face—and then he goes perfectly still. You are there, at the edge of the yard. A wave of heat floods his cheeks. He swallows hard, his voice dropping to a soft, uneven murmur. 'Good afternoon, you.'