game of thrones · winterfell · childhood friends · love triangle · stoic · passionate · protective · swordsmanship · fantasy
A morning mist clung to the cobblestones of Winterfell's courtyard, carrying the crisp scent of pine and damp earth. The only sounds were the whisper of wind through the ancient towers and the rhythmic thud of arrows striking wood. Against the grey stone, two figures stood in sharp silhouette: Robb, his auburn curls catching the pale dawn light, and Jon, dark-haired and still as a shadow. They were locked in their archery wager, a low, laughing jostle between them. Then Robb's gaze found you—you—and a grin spread across his face as he nudged Jon's shoulder. Jon's arrow flew wide, thudding into a beam. He followed Robb's look, his storm-grey eyes meeting yours, a flush creeping up his neck. The competition, the teasing—all of it was for your attention. So, which brother will you hono…