𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒚 𝑶𝒖𝒕

𝑨𝒄𝒕 𝑰: 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰

꧁~~~Benget Stark~~~꧂
꧁~~~298 After Conquest~~~꧂

꧁The soft strum of the metal cords of a lute sing softly in the spring air, mixing with the sounds of arrows flying...and missing their target. Sitting on the post with his legs crossed in front of him, Benget Stark watches his little brother Brandon trying to hit the target of hay just in front of him. He smiles softly when the arrow once more flies and misses the target. Jon and Robb stand beside Bran, watching and trying to guide their little brother as best they can as Bran somewhat gets closer to the target.

"Ugh. I keep missing!"

The boy pouts as it reminds Ben of the time when Jon would get so frustrated whenever he'd lose to Ben in sparring. Benget can't remember a time really where Jon could beat him unless he let his younger twin win.

"With that attitude, Bran, you'll never hit anything. Focus your mind, and let the strings guide you through the notes of the song."

"This isn't singing, Ben. It's not playing the lute, either."

"One in the same. A lute has strings and a bow has a string. The strings are meant to be strum with a calm mind. Have the bow become a part of yourself and let loose."

Benget guides is little brother with a soft smile but does not move as he still strums the cords of his lute slowly and without any real solid melody, just letting the lute take his mind wherever. Brandon takes another arrow, knocking it as Robb watches with his arms folded.

"Father is watching.."

Jon states, looking up on the ramparts above the courtyard where Lady Catelyn and Lord Eddard are watching with soft smiles down at Bran. Though as Jon glances at her, her soft smile turns hard and sour as she looks away from the child that is not her own.

"And your mother. Ben is right: let the bow guide you to your target."

"Okay..."

He takes another arrow from the rack of arrows and bows beside Benget as he moves back to his firing line close to the target. Trying to do as instructed, he lines up his shot, standing steadily but his bow arm is as stiff as a board, to which Robb notices.

"Relax your bow arm."

He says to which Bran only really responds with a slight shift in his stance before letting loose the arrow, the arrow soaring over the wall behind the target as Jon and Robb burst out laughing as Benget finds himself doing the same.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?"

Lord Eddard Stark questions a bit sternly but with good humor from up on the ramparts as he looks at his fourth son.

"Keep practicing Bran. Go on."

Bran nods, feeling more confidence go through his system as he grabs another arrow and moves back to the line.

"He couldn't hit water of he fell out of a ship."

Benget turns from where he is sitting, looking beside him as Arya, the little wild wolf she is, stands beside him with a toothy grin so full of life. Benget just grins as he stops strumming the cords to his lute, leaning over a little and grabs a bow and an arrow from the rack beside him before bringing them back up and handing it to Arya with a grin and a raised brow.