Chapter Text
Davos blew out the candle, extinguishing the light that illuminated the dingy room and plunging the mill into the dark gloom of dusk.
Aeron wasn’t coming.
Was it really that much of a surprise? Aeron had always been hesitant, Davos the one pushing him to make up his mind, had he pushed Aeron too hard? Scared him away with talk of running away, asking him to make a commitment that Aeron was still too nervous to do so.
Davos had been there for hours, waiting with anticipation, his hope dwindling with every minute that passed. But it had never really disappeared and every sound had him looking up expecting to see Aeron walk through that door, his fair face lighting up as he caught sight of Davos. And Davos would go to him, gather him into his arms and kiss him. Aeron would hold him just as tightly and then Davos would lay him down in the hay, stroke his hair and show him how a Blackwood made love. But now the afternoon sun had gone down, and night approached with Aeron nowhere to be seen.
You’ll be there? At the mill?
I Will.
Well Aeron was a liar as well as a coward! He had received Davos’s touches and caresses, kissed him back and smiled when Davos took his hand. Perhaps he’d only wanted Davos for the fleeting minutes they met at the boundary all along. It was a bit of fun and that was all.
Of course Aeron would never abandon his house. He was noble and true, a real knight despite how Davos taunted him. Aeron was loyal, just not to him.
Letting out a frustrated scream, Davos kicked over the upturned crate, sending the candle flying across the floor and rolling to a stop by the few bales of straw that littered the outskirts of the room. He gripped at his hair, collapsing down on one of the bales to hold his head in his hands. The straw pierced his breeches, stinging needles but still no match for the pain that impaled his heart.
How could he be such a fool?
Davos reached into his pocket, pulling out the single glove Aeron had left behind three days ago. His thumb brushed over the leather, the texture worn and stretched from time spent on Aeron’s hand. A tear splashed onto the dark material and Davos wiped at his eyes with anger, disgusted with himself and his weakness.
Crying over a Bracken, who even was he anymore? He had more self-respect than that. He should have known that Aeron was just like the rest of them. Davos should hate him just as he hated the rest of that traitorous House full of cravens. He should hate Aeron even more.
He looked down at Aeron’s glove and before he could think better of it, he tossed it to the ground. Fuck him!
Davos stood, brushing away the stray pieces of straw that clung to his clothing and walked up to the window. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see, the sight was still the same. Sloping fields with the rushing stream cutting through, the boundary stones forever piled high. And if he searched one last time for a small figure cloaked in yellow heading into the mill, well that was between him and him alone.
Davos turned away sharply and headed towards the rickety staircase, ignoring the ache in his heart.
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“We will rest here for the night, men. Get a good night’s sleep, you’ll need it on the morrow.” Ser Amos Bracken called out to the invading party. He swung down from his mount, passing the reins to his young squire.
Aeron petted the mane of his horse, smiling as the mare eagerly swallowed the sugar lump he offered her. He whispered praise in her ear, stroking her once over the nose before leaving her tied with the other horses.
His older brother, Raylon tossed a sleeping pack at his chest. “Set that up, will you?” He said as he strode past.
Aeron caught it clumsily, “I’m not your squire!” He retorted, dropping the pack at his feet. “Set it up yourself.”
“Can’t,” Raylon replied, consulting a map as he glanced around the camp. “Uncle asked me to organise the watch.”
Muttering angrily, Aeron knelt beside a tree and began pulling the bedrolls from their packs. Once done he leaned back against the tree trunk and pulled his cloak around him. It was uncomfortable, but Battle camps always were and Aeron knew he wouldn’t get much sleep here.
It unsettled him, being so far into Blackwood land. Though they had the cover of the trees it still felt exposing and Aeron could not shake the feeling of unease. He looked up through the thick branches, catching sight of wheel spokes in the middle distance. The mill.
Was Davos there right now? He had never specified a time, when he asked Aeron to meet him. Afternoon or at daybreak, or now at dusk?
In truth Aeron was glad of it, shamefully so. He had turned it over in his head so many times, always unable to make up his mind. And then when Amos had proposed their plan to advance into Blackwood lines and take Raventree Hall for King Aegon, Lord Humfrey had readily agreed. Aeron had been swept along with it all that he didn’t have the chance to sneak away even if he wanted to.
Did he want to? He had considered it. Oh, how he had considered it, imagining Davos and he catching a boat to Essos, sailing to Bravos or Lys, finally free from the conflict between their families. It was a nice dream, but now Aeron knew it could only stay that, a dream.
Stealing away into the night would be almost impossible without being on the first watch.
The watch.
He scrambled up from where he sat, catching sight of his uncle and brother as they directed groups of men to different parts of the camp. “Let me join the first watch,” Aeron asked, bowing his head respectfully as he approached.
Raylon glanced up from the map. “You could always-“
But Amos cut him off. “No, Aeron.” He looked down at him sternly. “I want you fighting fit for tomorrow, my boy.”
Indignation flooded through him and Aeron couldn’t accept the order. “But-“
“No excuses.” His uncle’s eyes softened a little and he rested his hands upon Aeron’s shoulders. “This has been a long-time planning, and I need you well rested if we are to succeed.” Then Amos turned away dismissively, calling some of Aeron’s older cousins to his side as he barked orders.
As soon as his uncle was far enough away, Aeron looked to his brother. “Please, Raylon.” He grabbed his arm imploringly. “I want to help.”
This was his last chance. He would never make it to the mill without being on that watch. Aeron couldn’t leave Davos waiting. Even if he decided no, then at least Davos would know. Aeron had never agreed to running away, but he had promised to be there. He was no oath breaker.
“If Ser Amos said no, then there is nothing I can do. I can’t overrule.” Raylon shook him off, walking away from him just like he used to when they were children, and Aeron grew frustrated at the constant dismissals.
Aeron fought down a scream. He ran after his brother, hurrying to stay at his side. “I’ll never get any sleep in the camp anyway! And Uncle Amos won’t find out, he’s too busy that he won’t even check who’s on the watch. Please, I just want to be useful.”
The mithering appeared to pay off as Raylon sighed, consulting the map once more. “Fine. We need more eyes watching the west bank, go and make yourself useful there.”
Uttering a rushed thanks, Aeron returned to his bedroll, retrieving his sword and slotting it into place at his hip. This was still Blackwood land, and even if they didn’t know about their Bracken intruders, Aeron didn’t want to get caught unarmed.
And then he was running.
The trees flickered past in a dark green blur, the fading light causing shadows to dance in the corners of his eyes. Aeron stumbled as he tripped over a tree root in his haste, the darkness making it hard to see where his feet were landing.
The mill grew bigger as he approached, the structure looking awfully old and decrepit. Aeron was hesitant to enter, worried one breath from him could have the whole thing tumbling down. But Davos could be inside, and Aeron could push all his worries away if only to see him one last time.
Taking a deep breath, Aeron stepped inside.
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Davos kicked at a stone as he trudged through the trees and away from the mill. He looked over his shoulder, the old mill still there, always there, taunting him with things that were never meant to be. He scowled and looked away.
A hand suddenly grabbed his arm and Davos shouted out, startled. He was quickly hushed by an urgent whisper. “Where the hell have you been?” It was Samwell, dressed in armour and ready for battle, a torch in his hand illuminating the dark woods. Behind him stood a long line of Blackwood men, all armed.
Davos eyed them all with confusion. “Nowhere.”
He’d rather be dead than let his older brother know how he’d been waiting around for some Bracken bastard like a lovesick fool.
Samwell shook his head impatiently. “It matters not. See those lights over there?” he pointed towards the far edge of the trees, close to the river and the boundary with Bracken land.
As Davos looked, he could see small pinpricks of orange light. Fires. Dark figures moved around and if he squinted hard enough, as they passed the fires their bodies lit up displaying a muddy yellow.
“Brackens.” Davos turned back to Samwell.
His brother nodded. “Bastards think they’re clever, advancing on us in the cover of the dark. But we’ll show them.” He made a sharp gesture to the men behind him and they began to advance, splitting off to surround the camp.
“An ambush.” Davos realised.
“Exactly. They’ll never see us coming and when they do it will be too late.” Samwell smiled grimly. “We can finally rid ourselves of Bracken filth once and for all. Come on.” He turned on his heel, walking alongside his men, torch flame streaming out behind him.
Davos could do nothing but follow. This would be a slaughter, if Samwell had his way. He would have been glad of it, if you had asked him a week ago, but now Davos was hesitant.
What if Aeron was there?
He shook his head, kicking himself internally. Why should he care? Aeron had made his choice and it wasn’t Davos. He could die along with the rest of them.
Davos quickened his pace, walking by Samwell’s side. Glancing around, Davos asked “Benji, is he here too?” He hadn’t caught sight of his young nephew, but that did not mean he wasn’t around.
“He’s with Aly, they’re leading another group, to catch them from behind.”
Davos nodded. It was all so well thought out. How come he had no knowledge of the plan? Or perhaps he did. Davos remembered sitting in on some meeting, but his mind had been so preoccupied he hadn’t really been listening.
Quietly they crept through the trees, the campfires in the distance getting bigger and brighter. And then there it was. The mill. Davos pretended he could not see it, ignoring it and the reminder it stood for.
But then something caught his eye, and Davos looked up.
In the small window at the top, the very one he had looked out of less than an hour before, was a light. Small and flickering, no doubt from a candle.
Could it be?
Hope bloomed in his chest and Davos almost faltered in his steps. He would have collided with Samwell had his brother and Lord not held out a hand.
“Don’t worry,” Samwell said, following Davos’s line of sight. “I’ve sent some men up to the old mill as soon as I saw that light. Any Bracken soldiers posted there will be dealt with swiftly.”
No real scouting party would be foolish enough to give away their position so readily, Davos knew. But someone unaware, expecting only one other person would. Could it really be Aeron, had he kept his promise after all?
But that hope soon gave way to horror as Davos realised what Samwell had done.
Aeron could be there, alone and unassuming. They would mistake him for a scout, of course they would, and Davos could lose him forever.
He thought fast. “I’ll go too. Who knows how many could be inside.” He said it casually, but on the inside he was wrecked with nerves. What if Samwell said no?
Every god, old and new must have been looking down on him that moment, as Samwell nodded his assent at Davos’s request. “Very well. I know you’ll finish the job. But send me a signal, so I know when its done.”
Davos smiled at that, one with all his teeth. “Oh, I will alright.”
He broke away from the line, fingering the dagger he kept concealed on his person. I’m coming, Aeron, he thought like a mantra. I’m coming.