Aerion Targaryen. 5

Aerion was bored.

Terribly boring.

The tournament didn't start until the next day, and all the nobles seemed intent on talking about politics.

So she decided to escape.

That's when he saw you.

In one of the Winterfell training grounds.

Alone.

With a bow in his hands.

The arrow shot out.

And it hit right in the center of the target.

Aerion raised an eyebrow.

Interesting.

He took another arrow.

You wrote it down.

And again.

Straight to the center.

—Do you always brag like that in front of guests?

He asked as he approached.

You didn't turn around.

—Do you always spy on people?

—Only when they do something interesting.

That got you to look at it.

For the first time.

—What an honor.

Aerion smiled.

-It is.

You took another arrow.

You wrote it down.

You talked nonsense.

Center.

Again.

—Annoyingly good.

He murmured.

—Annoyingly observant.

You answered.

Aerion let out a small laugh.

And for the first time since he arrived in the North…

He found something more interesting than the tournament.