A year had passed since Jon Snow had begun his training, and in that time, his progress had been nothing short of remarkable. By the time he turned six, Jon had become the strongest and most skilled with a sword among the young boys of Winterfell. His natural talent, combined with an intense determination to prove himself, had set him apart, earning the quiet admiration of those who watched him train.

It was on a cold morning in Winterfell, the kind of morning that seemed to freeze the breath in one's lungs, that Robb Stark first took to the practice yard with his own wooden sword. He was eager to begin his training, spurred on by the sight of Jon, his brother in all but name, mastering the basics with a speed that left even the most experienced soldiers impressed.

Robb had always looked up to Jon. Though Jon was technically the younger of the two but Robb had seen something in his brother that inspired both admiration and a fierce determination to keep pace. When Eddard Stark had agreed to start Robb's training alongside Jon's, Robb had been filled with excitement and a bit of apprehension. He knew that Jon was already ahead of him, but Robb was not one to shy away from a challenge.

"Ready, Jon?" Robb asked, gripping his new wooden sword tightly, his breath visible in the crisp morning air.

Jon nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. He was clad in a simple tunic and breeches, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he took his stance. Jon's eyes were sharp, focused, betraying a maturity beyond his years. He moved with a fluidity that came naturally, a sign of the many hours he had already spent in the yard.

"Always," Jon replied, his voice steady.

They circled each other slowly, the snow crunching beneath their boots. The rest of the courtyard seemed to fade away as they focused on each other, the bond between them as strong as the walls of Winterfell itself.

Robb was the first to strike, his movements quick and determined, but Jon was faster. With a practiced ease, Jon sidestepped the blow and brought his own sword down in a controlled arc, stopping just short of Robb's shoulder. Robb froze, momentarily stunned by Jon's speed.

"You're getting better," Jon said, his tone encouraging as he stepped back to allow Robb to reset. "But you need to be quicker. Think about where you're going to strike before you move."

Robb nodded, his expression serious as he absorbed Jon's advice. He was not used to being the one who needed guidance, but Jon's skill with the sword was undeniable. And though it stung a bit to be bested by his younger brother, Robb found that it only made him more determined to catch up.

They resumed their sparring, and though Robb put up a valiant effort, Jon's natural talent shone through. Jon was stronger, his strikes more precise, and his movements more fluid. Each time Robb attempted a new tactic, Jon was there to counter it, offering quiet corrections and encouragement along the way.

Eddard Stark watched from a distance, his heart swelling with pride as he observed his sons. He had known that Jon was special, but seeing the boy's growth over the past year had confirmed what Eddard had always suspected—Jon was destined for greatness. The boy moved with the confidence and skill of someone far beyond his years, and though Eddard worried about what that might mean for Jon's future, he couldn't help but be proud of the young man he was becoming.

Robb, for his part, refused to let his frustration show. He was competitive, yes, but more than that, he was determined to keep up with Jon. As they sparred, he pushed himself harder, trying to mimic Jon's movements, to anticipate his strikes, to match his brother's skill.

After several rounds, both boys were panting, their breath coming in short bursts as they lowered their swords. Jon had won each match, but Robb's spirit was far from broken. If anything, the challenge only fueled his desire to improve.

"You're really good, Jon," Robb said, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. There was no jealousy in his voice, only a deep respect for his brother's abilities.Jon smiled, though it was a modest smile, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes. "So are you, Robb. You're just starting. You'll get better."

Robb nodded, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the physical exertion. Jon's words were sincere, and that meant more to Robb than any victory could. They were brothers, after all, and in this, as in everything, they would push each other to be the best they could be.

The morning continued with more practice, but as the sun climbed higher in the sky, it was clear that Jon was in a league of his own. Even the older boys who had come to the yard to train began to take notice, watching Jon with a mixture of awe and curiosity. It was not every day that they saw someone so young move with such skill and confidence.

When the training session finally ended, both boys were exhausted but content. They trudged back to the Great Hall together, their wooden swords slung over their shoulders, the bond between them stronger than ever.

As they entered the warmth of Winterfell's halls, they were met by Catelyn Stark, who looked at them with a mixture of affection and concern. She had always had mixed feelings about Jon, but seeing him and Robb together like this, she couldn't deny the bond they shared. They were more than just boys—they were brothers, forged in the cold of the North and tempered by their shared experiences.

"Come on, let's get you both cleaned up," she said, ushering them toward the baths. "You're not tracking all that snow through my halls."

Robb laughed, elbowing Jon playfully as they followed her. "Next time, I'm going to beat you," he said, a determined grin on his face.

Jon chuckled, his dark eyes gleaming with the challenge. "We'll see, Robb. We'll see."

And as they disappeared down the hallway, their laughter echoing behind them, Eddard Stark stood by the fire, watching them with a sense of peace. He knew that whatever the future held, his sons would face it together, as brothers in every way that mattered.