Jon stood in his training yard, gesturing towards the weapons on the racks. He had spears, hammers, axes, whips, swords of every kind, glaives, flails and daggers, "choose any of these for our duel"
Robb looked over the weapons, pacing in front of them, "I can choose any of these? Also different ones for each of us?"
"Yes, exactly, choose your weapon and choose mine", Jon smiled as he watched his brother contemplate which weapons to choose. It was a hard choice. Jon was incredible with the spear and also -to his last account- great with swords of many kinds, so those two were immediately out of question to be given to Jon. A flail was risky for its user but it also packed quite the punch. Jon had lived in Dorne for a while, Robb wouldn't put it past him to have learned the art of the whip and Robb had no idea how to fight someone using a whip. A glaive was basically a spear.
As he walked towards the swords again, an idea popped into his head. Jon was used to fighting with superior range, so why not give him the weapon with the least reach?
Robb grinned handing his brother a pair of daggers, taking a greatsword for himself.
Jon smiled savagely. A good thought process in theory but what he didn't know was that Loki had been a master with the knife. He might be a master with the spear but Loki had always preferred the knife. Jon hadn't practiced with them and thus hadn't built up muscle memory but even without that, he could beat Robb, who was a boy not yet fully grown and trained.
He spun the weapons in his hands and looked around the training yard, the guard which was supposed to be training were eagerly watching them, none of the men at arms had ever seen Jon loose. Desmera was looking over them from the archways high above, the two boys must've looked like ants to her from that far up. Eddard Stark was watching from the nearby bench, his hands folded. He could even see Arya poking out her head from the kitchen windows. Why she looked from there, he would never know, perhaps she liked the smell of freshly baked bread. The aroma was sneaking into the courtyard from the kitchen windows. They also had animal observers. A few of the cats who lived in the city in order to catch any mice and the ravens.
'I wonder if you are watching through their eyes, Brynden Rivers?'
Sea dragon point was one of the regions with the most weirwood trees, logically speaking, he had to have realised that he was special by now. He may have even seen Jon's miraculous creation of Snow's edge from the weirwood tree circle not even a kilometre away.
"Ready to lose, Jotun?", Robb snapped his attention back to the training yard.
"I'm afraid it won't be as easy as you may imagine, Stark", Jon threw a dagger in the air before catching it again, "let's start this already"
Robb got into his stance, whilst Jon was still relaxed. The heir of Winterfell jumped forward, feigning an upwards swing before defaulting back to a side swing. Jon caught the blade with his own, sparks flew. Any regular man might've dropped the dagger with so much force applied but Jon merely smiled, taking the dagger in his other hand and nicking Robb's sword hand before the young heir jumped back. He wanted to start circling Jon but the young lord didn't give that chance. He jumped forwards, shifting from one side to the other in rapid motion, confusing his enemy. Robb couldn't read where the next attack would be coming from, so he got more and more small wounds on his hands and arms. Jon wasn't taking this seriously. If he did, Robb would've long since lost but Jon took this more like a game than anything.
Robb, in a desperate attempt to gain the upper hand slashed the young Lord with his sword before delivering a kick to the groin. A dirty trick, one which made all the men cringe. For but a second, Jon was stunned and that was all it took for Robb to lay his sword's edge against his throat, "do you-"
Before he could finish that sentence, Eddard Stark had gripped his hand, applying so much pressure that he let go of the blade, "I thought I taught you better than this"
His voice was filled with so much disappointment that even Jon, who wasn't the target of it, felt ashamed.
"There was no honor in what you did right there and without honor, a man is no better than a swine. I am severely disappointed in you", he stared down at his son, "not only did you fight dirty but you have also disrespected one of our bannermen. A lord who makes enemies from within can never win a conflict outside their borders"
"I- I'm sorry I-"
Lord Stark dragged his son away from the training yard and Jon was left standing there. The kick didn't have enough force to actually hurt that much but it still stunned him. Even a god couldn't just shrug off a groin kick like that easily.
"Are you okay, milord?" One of his men at arms asked him, stepping closer.
"I'm- fine… you just continue your training whilst I go sit down", he walked over to the bench where Lord Stark had sat minutes ago.
"Y- yes Milord"
A few minutes later, Desmera came rushing into the training yard, "I saw what happened dear, does it still hurt? Can I help you?", ever the proper lady.
Jon waved her off, "I am fine. I am made of tougher material than most. Still hurt like a bitch though"
Later he heard that Robb had received quite the spanking for what he had done.
Jon spent the rest of his day doing paperwork before retiring to his bedchambers.