It Was You - Davos Blackwood x Aeron Bracken

Chapter 3 - Bracken Bastard

    Davos used his left hand to steady the tied Bracken behind him while the right directed the coal-colored mare. He held the reins with more caution than usual after her earlier outburst. It still perplexed him, she has had swords swung at her before, arrows that have come inches of impaling her. She was a damn war horse!

    "If that pansy freak out was because of the smell, I don't blame you, it even lingers." He chuckled, a rare, true smile forming on his face. 

    The trio approached the hidden away cottage, the sound of running water pricked the Blackwood's ears. Phantom parked herself parallel to the wooden gate. Davos untied it from the post, letting it swing open. The mare entered, rounding the gate and letting her body push against it. She side stepped as Davos held it. This was routine for the pair at this point. She knew what to do without Davos guiding her. He tied it back, angling her towards the cottage. He dismounted next to the porch, where he didn't have to drag Aeron up the steps, then into the house.

    It took a lot of effort on his part, but he finally had gotten the Bracken inside. He laid the long, golden-haired boy down onto his own second-home's bed.

    "Thankfully, whoever the sinister person that lived here before left this," he picked up a large shackle, fixing it around the Bracken's left ankle. It was secured into the wall and had a length of at least 50 feet. It was enough to step off the porch to the wash basin. "Must've had a whore he stole away." Davos smirked. It was noon by now, the light from the open window shined in, illuminating the unconscious boy's features. He looked utterly angelic, even beat and battered as he was, and Davos found himself staring. He shook his head, using his dagger to cut the Bracken's tunic off, which had crusted to his skin. He rather aggressively pulled it free from Aeron's body. "Looks like you came out better than me, Bracken scum," he seethed. He prodded at the wound, it oozing brown sludge. "I guess I missed your liver after all, huh?" he looked up, not expecting a response. All he received in return was a groan that escaped the blonde's lips. Sweat beaded down his face, his eyebrows furrowed together in discomfort. 

    Davos retrieved his crutch from Phantom's pack, which he definitely needed to be able to get a bucket of water from the stream behind the barn. He hobbled back to the cottage with it, placing it beside the Bracken's cot. He dropped a ladle into it, along with a rag. He rung it out, and then rolled it up. Davos placed it on the boy's forehead. A change was seen almost instantly. Aeron's face grew calm, and his panting subsided. 

    "Thank the gods, you were starting to sound like a whore in a brothel taking it up the ass!" he paused, "I heard a rumor you do that anyway, nasty cunt." The Blackwood spit on the ground next to the cot in disgust. He didn't see the point in talking to the unconscious boy, he couldn't hear his insults anyway. He huffed, lumbering out of the cottage back to where Phantom waited for him. He strapped his crutch back to her saddle, mounting back up. He still had unfinished business he had to attend to before the day was up.

    First order of business, produce an Aeron Bracken head. Davos had been riding through the disgusting field of bodies for at least an hour before he came upon a worthy candidate. It was an older male; he would say about twenty and five. He had a crooked nose, almost like his face was smooshed. His lips were bulbous and grotesque but would do for what Davos needed. All that mattered was that the man had long, blonde locks. He had drug the body into the woods with the help of his trusty mare. He stood above it, using his crutch, he braced himself. He lifted his good leg, setting it down quickly, and harshly onto the man's face. His crooked nose flattened, crunching of cartilage and bone ringing through Davos' head. He smiled wildly as he continued to deface the man, stripping him of his identity.

    Once the Blackwood was done with him, his face was no more. All that was left was a caved in hole. Davos was covered in bits of brain matter and flesh. He simply dusted it off, cleaning his hands on the man's tunic. He then got to work with his long dagger, sawing the head of the man off. The skin around the man's neck sloughed off, as if he was a spit-roasted sow slow cooked over a fire. It wasn't quick or easy work. The blade of the raven-haired boy wasn't serrated, so it sliced through the flesh with ease, but not the bone. The end result was not pretty but served its purpose; do not be suspicious. He had no reason to hide the fact that the Bracken boy was alive, but he didn't need it to be known until he was sure he was going to live or not. He stood, looking at his work. It was pretty convincing, he deemed. Those idiots wouldn't know a difference. He hung the head off the horn of his saddle by its hair, wrapping the rope that was attached to the man around the horn as well. He placed his crutch back into its spot, and with a newfound energy, mounted Phantom.

    "Now, to see how believable this 'Bracken Bastard' is to the men," he clicked his tongue, rolling his heels into the mare's side. She jolted into a trot, yanking the body behind them like a ragdoll.