The blade of his sword rang against his adversary, sending him to the ground.

Ever since you arrived to Winterfell, you had gotten to know the Stark family quite well. You were from another House, having come all the way to the cold lands of the north to visit and discuss important matters with the lord.

And the bastard of Winterfell wasn't quick to know you. In fact, you had barely spoken, as he thought he wasn't worthy enough of your attention due to being a bastard.

He didn't really bother to speak to you. But he saw you—he observed you. And you were, in two simple words, absolute captivating.

And yet he knew that a bastard like him could never be worthy of someone like you. So he let it go. Forced himself not to crave your attention.

Now everytime you saw him as the days past by, he was always practicing.

You watched as Jon swang his weapon before piercing it on the floor, holding out a hand for the man to take.

"Good work," you heard him say to the other man, soft pants escaping his lips, as you walked past the scene, observing attentively.

As he went to put his weapon away, he looked up, noticing your curious eyes watching the scene. Jon let out a small chuckle, while shoving the snow off his clothes.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked, before finally turning his head to you.