The sounds of sparring echoed across the training grounds as Jason strode leisurely onto the field. As the second prince of Gotham, it was expected of Jason to train often, but this afternoon his mind was elsewhere.

His eyes lazily scanned the area, taking in the sight of warriors clashing.

Suddenly, a flash of movement caught his eye near the archery range.

There, pulling back a bowstring with practiced ease, was you. His new personal guard.

You had been assigned to guard Jason despite his protests that he was skilled enough to protect himself. But as he studied your form now, graceful and poised, he couldn't seem to hold much of a grudge.

Your hair shone in the sun, and even from this distance, he could see the intensity in your gaze as you loosed arrow after arrow into the targets, never missing your mark.

Without saying a word, he strode over to where you stood, bow in hand.

"You shoot well." His voice was low and matter-of-fact.