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You are no true knight.
The words remained with him long after they were spat from Blackwood’s mouth, echoing throughout Aeron’s head, and haunting him like a ghost at Harrenhal. They hung in the air, heavy and hateful, just like those god forsaken boundary stones that had started the whole bitter dispute.
Aeron hated that it bothered him so much.
Hated the way one withering sentence from Blackwood could affect him so, hating the fact that it was the same thing he thought of himself every night.
Perhaps Blackwood was right, and wouldn’t that be the worst thing? Too craven to go through with the act when he had drawn his sword, the cowardly tremble in his hands as he pointed the blade towards Blackwood’s chest. Of course he hadn’t gone through with it.
You wouldn’t dare.
Aeron sighed, staring at the sword that lay on the ground before him. He had told his cousins to go on without him, and gone on they had. Back further into Bracken land, whilst Aeron lingered by the border.
“I’ll stay here a little longer. Make sure they don’t come back or try anything else.” Aeron had said, and they had clapped him on the back, laughing and joking with one another as they headed back home to a warm fire. He could never tell if they were mocking or commending him. He decided he did not care.
So there he was, sat beneath a wiry tree on the outskirts of the boundary, the thin branches offering little shelter. It mattered not, it was a mild day. Though the evening was drawing in, Aeron could tell by the chill in the air. He adjusted his cloak, making sure the thick wool covered his neck entirely.
His hands reached for the pommel of his blade. It was a fine sword really, one fit for a knight. Aeron wasn’t sure if that was him anymore, but it was his all the same. His uncle Amos had gifted it to him himself, and Aeron had never felt prouder. And all it took to strip that pride away had been five harsh words.
You are no true knight.
A flurry of feathers rustled the branches of the tree, and a blackbird flew up into the sky, letting out an abrupt crow. It sounded a bit like laughter, and gods wasn’t he laughable? Pathetic excuse of a Knight, waiting around for Blackwood’s who might not even return. Aeron imagined those dark feathers stretching out into scruffy black hair, mocking grin, and a cascading red cloak.
“Bracken!”
Unlike the last time, where it had been yelled with rage, the name rang out like a question. Urgent still, but almost desperate? No, that wasn’t the right word. Aeron could never associate that word with him.
“I thought you would have gone by now.” Aeron said, not bothering to look up. Why would he? When he knew exactly who would be standing there.
“Had to make sure you hadn’t moved the stones again. Would be just like you, Bracken. Pulling nasty tricks to steal what’s rightfully ours.”
Aeron felt himself bristle, but he pushed down the irritation. “I told you, I hadn’t. besides, it’s you that’s here sneaking onto Bracken land. Not me,” he said plainly.
“So it is.”
Aeron looked up at him at last.
He was always the same. Unruly hair and playful smirk, and how Aeron hated that smirk. He wore the same look whenever they crossed paths, and Aeron could never tell what that look meant. Looking for a fight, whether that be with words, with fists, with… something else? It made him shiver.
He began pushing himself to his feet, hand automatically reaching for his sword. You could never tell with Blackwood’s. One way or another things always ended in bloodshed between their houses. Aeron would be damned if he’d let it be his.
But before his fingers could close around the blade, a dark boot pressed down on his hand.
Aeron gasped, pain building in his fingers. Though the pressure wasn’t great, not enough to break the bone, it was just enough to immobilise his hand and keep it firmly on the ground.
“Put the blade down, you’re no use with it anyway.”
“What is it you want, Davos?!” Aeron hissed through gritted teeth, glaring up at him.
“Oh! So it’s Davos now, is it?” Blackwood’s grin was all teeth and he leered down at Aeron. “Say it again, my name sounds so sweet in your pretty mouth.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Oh I am, am I?” Blackwood lifted his boot from Aeron’s hand, and Aeron pulled it back to his chest. The fingers were red and would probably bruise, but that was no matter. The only pain he wanted to feel was the sting across his knuckles after landing a blow upon Blackwood’s temple.
Blackwood leaned down, speaking lowly in Aeron’s ear. “But you? You’re pathetic.” Then, before Aeron could act, Blackwood reached down to fist his hand into the roots of his hair, pulling him to his feet.
Aeron cried out at the pain, reaching his hand backwards to prise at Blackwood’s hand, but his grip was relentless.
With quick ease, Blackwood pressed him up against the tree trunk, holding him in place with one hand in his hair and the other at his wrists, body flush against Aeron’s own. The rough bark rubbed against Aeron’s back making him wince.
Blackwood’s breath was hot against his cheek. “You know what I see?” his voice was a whisper caressing the shell of Aeron’s ear. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“What?” was all Aeron could say back, failing to hide the slight tremor in his voice.
He could feel Blackwood’s smile. “I see you, strutting around with your sword. Acting all high and mighty, the noble Ser Aeron. So pure, so proud.” He said the words mockingly and Aeron felt the familiar shame rising from deep in his chest. “But I know and you know, that’s not what you are.”
“King Aegon named-“ A sharp tug at his hair, forcing a gasp from Aeron’s throat.
“I don’t want to hear shit about that usurper! That man is no true king and no one but the true king can name a knight.” Blackwood drew his head back, locking his dark eyes with Aeron’s own. “So what does that make you?”
Nothing, a traitorous voice hissed inside Aeron’s mind. Blackwood could say all these things, mocking him, belittling his knighthood, but they were no match for what he had been telling himself.
Aeron lowered his head, but Blackwood released his hands to grasp Aeron’s chin and raise his head again.
Blackwood’s smile grew cruel. “Besides, a real knight wouldn’t let me do this.”
Blackwood leaned in and brushed his lips against Aeron’s own. It almost seemed chaste at first, until he became more demanding, his teeth biting at Aeron’s lower lip. Aeron tasted the metallic tang of his own blood.
Knees weak, and despite his better judgement, Aeron opened his mouth and let him in fully. He raised his arms, clutching at Blackwood’s shoulders as he deepened the kiss, pulling Aeron’s head back by the hair, their teeth almost clashing from the ferocity. It made his eyes water.
Aeron hated the way he let out breathy sighs as Blackwood trailed more kissed down the side of his neck then up behind his ear. Hated the way he arched his back against the tree trunk, legs so weak only the pressure of Blackwood’s body against his kept him from crumpling to the ground.
He squeezed his eyes shut, the tears that had been building leaking from the corners.
“Say my name.” Blackwood demanded, his own breathing heavy, pupils dilated at he looked into Aeron’s eyes. He let go of Aeron’s hair to swipe his thumb along Aeron’s cheekbone with a gentleness Aeron had not seen in Blackwood before, wiping the tears away.
“Davos…” Aeron breathed, and Blackwood made a sound that was almost like a growl, pushing his mouth against Aeron’s once more.
“Say it again,” Blackwood said against Aeron’s lips.
“Davos!” Aeron tipped his head back as he shouted his name, throat hoarse. It only seemed to fuel Davos more as he ravished Aeron’s form.
“Beautiful.” The whisper seemed to escape involuntarily from his mouth as Davos pulled away, hands steadying Aeron as he held him up against the tree. His cheeks were flush and Aeron was sure his own were too, if the heat flooding his cheeks was anything to go by.
The air was quiet, slowly turning to dusk. The only sound being both of their matching breathing.
It was Davos that broke the silence. “It could make you mine.” He said quietly. He stroked a strand of Aeron’s hair. His eyes fixed away from Aeron’s face.
Aeron leaned into the touch. “What do you mean?”
Davos cleared his throat, hand going to rub at the back of his neck. He seemed almost bashful as he said again, “you’re no knight. But you could be mine.”
His heart almost came to a complete stop as Aeron registered what Davos was saying. “You’re a Blackwood.” It was all Aeron could utter. And it was the wrong thing to say. The cowardly thing to say.
Davos seemed to deflate a little. It made Aeron long for the cocky Blackwood who had accosted him minutes before.
“Right. So I am.” He stepped away from the tree completely, stepping away from Aeron.
The moment he left Aeron’s space did he long for Davos to take it up again. If his body was Bracken land, then Davos could claim it all.
But Davos never did. He looked into Aeron’s eyes, all softness and affection gone from his, if it was ever there in the first place.
He pointed towards the boundary. “Stop moving the stones.” His voice was flat, emotionless. Then Davos turned away.
Aeron watched his back as Davos retreated down the hill. Back towards the stream and the boundary rocks and Blackwood land.
He bent down, retrieving the sword long forgotten at the base of the tree. He sighed, turning the blade over in his hand, then returned it to the sheath at his hip. Sparing one final look at the retreating form of Davos, Aeron then began to head back towards home.
Perhaps Davos was right. Perhaps he’d never really been a knight, after all.