Crow

Aerion kneeled in front of the weirwood, the carved face weeping. His eyes were closed, his back straight as his right palm was gently pressed against the face of the tree. 

The abandoned Godswood was quiet, the biting cold of the early morning surrounding him. The leaves above were fluttering, occasionally falling to the damp ground.

The sap was warm, wet against his hands. Which is a new development, usually the sap was hardened but now it seemed the tree was weeping once more. He didn't know why or how, but it didn't exactly feel like a good omen. 

His crow cawed, a warning he knew. His eyes slowly opened, he turned his head meeting the curious gaze of Garrett. His dark eyes met with the bright hazel, clearly questioning.

Garrett swallowed as he eyed Aerion "Ser you—you said we could train today?" He asked nervously. Aerion blinked and hummed, he did say that.

"You're up early" Aerion said as he stood, his right hand sticky with red sap, quickly he bent down and splashed the hand about in a shallow dirty puddle. Garrett nodded in confirmation at his words, the boy was clearly excited.

"Come" Aerion said as he walked past the boy, Garret quickly turning and following eagerly. Aerion himself needed to train as well, most likely with his uncle. 

He had started to win in the duels with the older man, pride blooming through him at the memories of the fights. Of course it was only occasionally but still…it proved he was getting better, at an extreme pace too.

His mind wandered to the tourney, he would joust. The gods knew he's been training for it, his riding skill already surpassed pretty much everyone in the castle. Though he thinks that may be because of his skinchanging.

He can…bond with an animal, something he's done with his horse and crow. Both animals almost felt like an extension of himself, it was…frightening in some aspects he had to admit.

It's useful though, especially for scouting. It's how he's so easily been able to find so many bandits, no one suspects a bird. His dreams had also slowed, he'd still wake with memories that weren't his, running through his head, it just wasn't as common. 

He suspects that may also have to do with his growing control over his ability to skinchange. He hummed, spending a moment more thinking about his abilities before he eyed the training yard.

Garrett stood, a wooden training sword in hand, his expression fierce. Aerion walked over, his stride confident as he picked up a wooden blade, twirling it gently in his hands. 

His eyes flicked to Garrett and he nodded, a moment of silence passed then Garrett rushed at him. His sword held down to the side, the boy slashing upwards.

Aerion simply stepped back "Don't use so much energy on one attack" he reprimanded as his wooden blade gently smacked against the boys thigh. 

"Yes Ser" his little cousin said, his expression determined as he swung down at Aerions knees. Aerion once again stepped back, easily avoiding the hit. 

"What did I say about telegraphing?" he said as he stepped out of the way of another strike. The sounds of a frustrated ten year old filling the yard.

—-

He eyed the large retinue ahead, he was almost tempted to ride the rest of the way to Kingslanding alone. It would be much faster than following damn carriages. His eyes flicked to Garrett, the boy riding beside him atop his own horse. 

They had left early in the morning, it would be a long journey. He couldn't help but think back to the last time he was in the city, his eyes wandering down to his right hand. The ring glinting in the sunlight. 

The caw of his crow took him away from the moment, his eyes shooting up at his bird. His hands drifted into his pouch, pulling out a necklace, a small pendant hanging off of it. 

A crow engraved into it that only showed when the light hit it right, similar to his ring. 

—-

The moon was bright, illuminating the landscape slightly. The shadows long and dark, the temporary camp quiet with the faint sound of insects falling over his stationary form.

He sat atop a fell log, slowly cleaning his dagger. A gift from his squire, the boy was kind. Most definitely not the best sword, nor the most patient but he would make a good knight. 

He wondered how he's been doing in his own Knighthood, he admits he hasn't really been protecting anyone. He has become a tracker for criminals, he only ever seems to punish the guilty. 

He ran his tongue across his teeth, his lips thinning as he thought. The memory of Blackfyre tapping against his shoulder, The King himself saying his vows. The half broken body of a Blackwood laid behind him, a crowd of cheering nobles ahead. 

"Aerion" the deep voice of his uncle interrupted his thoughts, his taller, broader form stepping into view. The older man slowly sitting down to Aerions right.

"Uncle" Aerion greeted, slightly surprised but happy. He felt as if he hadn't spoken more than two words with his uncle in a while. 

"How's Garrett?" The older man asked, his eyes momentarily pausing on the dagger slowly being cleaned in Aerions hands.

"He's…stubborn, and quick to lose his head" Aerion said hesitantly "I'm not sure how…how to teach him composure" he said more to himself than anyone. 

"It's hard to teach" his uncle agreed "you were the same, you still are the same at times" his uncle remarked, catching Aerions attention. 

"I am?" He asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. His uncle hummed and nodded.

"Maybe I used the wrong word" His uncle admitted "Reckless, that's more like you" Aerion blinked and eyed the man questioningly, he thought he was more reserved.

"When you're pushed" His uncle explained "When something pushes your limits, you'll reveal that reckless heart of yours" his uncle said as he firmly tapped Aerions chest. 

—-

That night he dreamed, he was a wolf running through the forests. His hunger gnawed at him like an animal as he threw his body forward, his muscles propelling him at extreme speeds.

His nose twitched, suddenly, instinctively taking a sharp right easily avoiding the large tree roots as his paws smashing against the dirt.

He felt so strong when he took over a predators body, they had prey, they had instincts that led them, that served them. He caught the flash of brown fur, the sight only made him jump. 

His body shooting through the air, the lunge already calculated and perfectly aimed. His large jaw clamping around a deer fawn's neck. He didn't hesitate before he brutally started to shake his head back and forth, a low growl emitting from his throat. 

Within seconds the fawn was dead, its neck snapped. The sickly sweet taste of blood falling against his tongue as he tore away at the animal, its dead black wide eyes meeting his narrowed amber ones. 

Effortlessly he pulled himself from the experience, wincing at the shiver that ran down his spine as his muscles seemed to reform, his bones growing heavier and his skin feeling tighter, his body…wrong.

The faint taste of blood lingered on his tongue, he had long grown used to the taste. He sighed, standing up slowly and leaving the small tent. The sky was still dark, the sun just rising over the horizon. 

He sat down upon a nearby log, his hand reaching into his pouch looking back down at the necklace in his hands. His eyes flicked to the horizon, he had to admit he was nervous.

It's been over a year, yet their last meeting still played through his head with perfect clarity. He clicked his tongue and stood, he needed to pack up his tent.

—-

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