The White Wolf of Winterfell

Chapter 5: Love is in the air

Robert's arms were shaking, and his raspy breath was loud. The sweat on his forehead was visible to everyone as the Lord of the Stormslands barely kept up with a buffed-up Brandon Stark. The heir of Winterfell kept on punishing Robert with every swing of his wooden sword. Perhaps, the only good thing about sparring. And brought down, an insane power Robert wasn't used to seeing. Robert has sparred with Ned many times before, and there was a clear distinction between both Stark men.

Ned's style was slower but more precise. He kept his guard up and kept his strikes short but fast. Robert hated fighting Ned since the Quiet Wolf could just keep up with him and wear him down by evading and blocking his strikes. Ned wasn't a flashy fighter or one who wins with sheer strength. No, the Quiet Wolf earned his nickname by being a predator, taking his time to hunt silently.

Brandon's style, however, was more like Roberts. Both of them used their muscles to win fights. They were vicious with their attack. Using a rampage of attacks, one after another, to defeat their opponents. Yet, Robert noticed a specific pattern in Ned and Robert's swordsmanship technique. It was hard to see at first look, but it seems as if they jump slightly every time to attack. It was strange and highly effective. Robert wondered where they learned such a peculiar technique. However, Robert's thoughts were interrupted by a powerful strike by Brandon, directly on the Stormsland's Lord's stomach.

Robert groaned as one knee touched the dirty ground.

"Does it hurt, milord?" Brandon jested in no friendly manner.

"I'll get you," Robert muttered angrily, refusing to show pain on his face.

Robert then proceeded to attack as soon as he stood up. The wooden sword was smashing with each other, and the cracking sound made everyone know. Those poor swords were about to break. Yet, that didn't matter for Robert or Brandon.

Robert yelled, aiming for Brandon's head. The Wild Wolf saw it coming and moved at speed never seen by Robert. The swing of his arm was long enough to open a weakness in the Stormland's defense, and Brandon took advantage of it. He brought the back of the wooden sword and smashed Robert's face hard. Robert could taste the blood in his mouth and felt lightheaded. Yet, he was too prideful to fall. Robert kept on fighting. And Brandon kept on moving at an incredible speed.

Robert's swings were fast and powerful. Yet, Brandon, who could be slightly taller than Robert and with more muscle mass, was having no problem evading them. Brandon was moving so fast, almost in a blur to anyone's eyes. Something so big couldn't move so fast and be so agile.

How can he move so fast?! Robert thought, baffled by the speed of the Wild Wolf.

Can Ned move like this?! If that is the case, then Ned hasn't been serious all this time while sparring with me? Robert couldn't help but wonder after Brandons' strikes kept on hammering his body.

Brandon was enjoying using Robert's body as a practice dummy. He wasn't even using all his strength or those strange skills their teacher, Lukas Muller, had taught them. There was no need. Yet, he couldn't deny how vindictive he felt by beating that man down. It was personal. Brandon knew what type of man Robert was because he was like him. So, he expected nothing but the worst from Robert. That's why he kept on thrashing him around.

Robert fell on his back; blood was pouring from his nose, lips, and bruises covering all of his body. Robert was slowly fading away.

"Do you yield?" Brandon asked, as Robert only groaned.

"I... yield," Robert replied while moaning in pain. He was almost unconscious.

Brandon smirked, yet, his victory celebration was stopped by the sudden scream of his sister.