It Was You - Davos Blackwood x Aeron Bracken

Chapter 2 - If You Survive

     Davos sat in the medical tent as a woman dressed his wounds. His calf was the worst injury by far and took extensive stitching to mend back together. 

    "You'll be lucky if you get full strength back in it, my lord," the overly sweet voice of the woman cut into his thought. He nodded curtly, watching her work. She was far older than he was. It was evident that she had produced many children. She would have made a pretty woman in her prime, surely, but she wasn't anything to look at now.

    "You should bed her as thanks, you know," Benjicot pushed into the tent, "if she didn't find you, you'd be as dead as that Bracken cunt." The woman flushed, excusing herself from the medical tent. Davos watched her go, her hips swaying in an almost seductive manner.

    Davos smirked, ignoring the comment about bedding her, "So he is dead? Did you leave his corpse to rot?" Benjicot sat on the medical cot next to him, grinning wickedly. 

    "Yes, a few men wanted to have their way with his body, told them if the wolves don't drag him off by morning to have at it." Benjicot cleaned the blood from beneath his nails with his dagger, licking the residue from his blade after each nail.

    "Tell them no need, his pretty face will be gone. I'm going to collect his head as a trophy, unless they still want the body." Davos used the primitive crutch next to himself to stand. Benjicot stopped digging under his nails. scowling. He opened his mouth to speak, but Davos had already hobbled out.

    "Ready my horse, I have a trophy to collect," he grinned, grazing his tongue over his teeth. The servant boy, who had been dipping tattered clothing into vice washing water scrambled to his feet, hurrying to the make-shift corral nearby.

    Phantom was a stock mare, her coat as dark as the night sky. She had thick feathers cover her hooves and a star resembling a ghost; were her name originated. She was an obvious draft cross, making her formidable in battle. She was adorned in dark-oiled tack, a scarlet saddle pad settled beneath the saddle. Her hair was neatly pleated, but how Davos liked it. She was no were near starved, could even miss a few meals. To Davos, she was his pride and joy, but he would never admit it. He was quite fond of horses, actually. The Blackwood sat atop her, uncomfortable, his calf scraping her side with every stride she took. He now regretted not taking the Milk of The Poppy that was offered to him earlier. The pair crested the ridge that overlooked the battlefield. The mill came into view first, or what was left of it. Charred stone scattered the meadow, including small pieces of lumber. The structure was unrecognizable. Davos didn't care, it was Bracken land anyhow. 

    Then, the carnage came into view, Bodies were practically stacked on top of one another. "Seven hells, the smell!" his face scrunched up, hand flying to plug his nose. The blistering heat of the morning had begun to bloat the bodies. Phantom weaved her way through the mass of bodies agonizingly slow. Her hoof slipped, finding itself crashing down into a pot-bellied Blackwood corpse. The body squelched, then burst. The pressure caused a liquid comprised of every bodily fluid imaginable to spew from the chest cavity. It splattered the mare's underbelly, frightening her. She bolted toward the tree line. In any other situation, Davos would not mind, but the stitches across his chest and calf were threatening to tear through skin. Pain seared throughout him. He bounced in the saddle, yanking the reins. They crashed through the trees, branches swatting the pair. Phantom began to slow to a trot, which Davos appreciated.

    "What is wrong with you? You never act like that!" The Blackwood slowed her to a walk, running his hand down her vast neck. The mare nickered, her ears swiveling evert which way. They slowly came to the clearing where the Bracken knight was dealt with. Except, the body was gone. Deep drag marks were rutted into the ground. 

    "Fuck," Davos bit his lip harshly, "those horny bastards didn't listen to Benjicot!" It was no secret that many found Ser Aeron Bracken fine as any maiden. To stoop as low to defile a corpse, however, Davos Blackwood would never, even if it was Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen herself. Alas, all Brackens were supporters of a usurper, so who really gave a damn?

    "Yah!" Phantom was spurred forward. Davos ignored the throb of his injuries, holding his leg close to minimize the friction caused by the saddle. Soon enough the mare came across an embankment where the tracks led. A small creek that rounded the Bracken land came into view. The Blackwood drug his eyes over the sparkling, rather clear water. Fish darted to and fro, from dense vegetation to open water. And there on the bank, sat, leaning against a fallen trunk, was Aeron Bracken. Davos almost let his jaw fall slack. He approached on horseback, and when Aeron didn't stir, he slid out of the saddle, mindful of his leg. The Blackwood crouched, studying the pitiful Bracken.

    "Well, I'll be... the craven bastard is stronger than he looks," sweat beaded on Aeron's face, his breath quick. "I could kill you now, but that's too easy." He lifted himself back up, fishing a bundle of rope from his saddle pack. He bound the boy's hand and feet. He slapped Aeron's face rather hard trying to elicit a response, to no avail. Davos huffed, hauling the Bracken up on the rump of Phantom. It strained his injuries more than he thought it would, leaving him to grit his teeth. However, Aeron, even as dead weight, was lighter than expected. Mounting back up was hard, his leg muscle capabilities being worn thin with all the immediate strain. He was advised not to do a lot of physical exertion in the coming weeks to ensure proper healing, but he was a careless Blackwood, when did they ever listen to advice?

    "If you survive, Bracken, I have a plan for you." Davos knew Aeron was in no condition to hear him. It was evident fever had set in, and in times like this, without proper treatment, it was rare to survive. If Davos was merciful, he'd end him, but he was tapped out on that for a good while. 

    "Let's take you to 'our' spot, huh, Bracken?" Venom laced his voice. He spoke of the place Aeron and Davos, once upon a time, would hide away their friendship.  It was a little cottage Davos stumbled upon on a hunting trip when he was ten and two. Now, both were ten and eight, their friendship long gone, but not forgotten by either party, no matter how much they wanted to. If only the two houses weren't in a constant feud, recently stoked by the new King's crowning, and illegitimate claim of the throne. The cottage Davos found all those years ago had been upkept by his constant visits. He used it many times for various reasons, mostly hunting shelter. It had a barn, and a water source, so he could be gone for weeks at a time and wouldn't be questioned. Last summer he had built a perimeter fence so Phantom could wander freely without fear of getting lost in the dense forest. The cottage was nestled in the northern region of the Blackwood land that jutted up against the Bracken's boundary stones. This was where the ruins of a town were, deep in dense forest almost inaccessible to everyone unless you knew exactly how to get there, therefore Blackwoods rarely traversed the area.