#Benjicot Blackwood

[aemondapologistfrfr]

We're Not Kids Anymore

ward!benji x targ!fem!reader

Summary: Benji has been sent to be a ward in Kings Landing and you two grow up together. Over the years feelings grow and you each wait for the other to admit it. 

Warnings: 18+ maybe a swear word, a cup of wine, loss of virginity, oral(f), p in v

Authors Note: request from @chainsawsangel that I adored writing

Word Count: 5.6k

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10 years old

“Sit down and be quiet. You are representing me and the crown and I will not have you acting like a spoiled little princess.” my mother scolds and I push myself back into the seat and huff. 

“I am a spoiled princess.” I purse my lips and cross my arms. 

“Y/n, I am serious. If you act out, no flying for a fortnight.” I seal my lips shut at her words and sit with a frown. 

“Lord Blackwood.” my mother stands and I drown out the rest of the meeting. I glance to my right and see a boy sitting next to me looking equally as bored. While our parents talk we kick each other’s feet and giggle. 

“What’s your name?” he whispers. 

“Y/n. You?” I tilt my head smiling. 

“Benji.” 

“Do you wanna see a dragon?” his eyes light up with mine as he nods vigorously. We slip out of the council room as quiet as possible. My mother and his father shout after us as we sprint down the hall. Two guards scoop us up and bring us back into the council chambers. Benjis father pulls him to the side of the room while my mother pulls me to the other. 

“What did I say?” she looks down at me sternly. 

“Not to act like a spoiled princess and I didn’t.” I cross my arms. “I was going to take him to see my dragon.” I look over her shoulder and see Benji looking my way. 

“You will have plenty of time to show him your dragon. He’s to stay here with us and be our ward.” I tilt my head at her words confused. “If you two would’ve stayed and actually listened.. Go sit back down.” she shakes her head escorting me back to my seat as Benjis father does the same. 

“Princess, you honor me and my house.” his father bows his head deeply before he turns and gives Benji a pointed look. 

“I promise I will be good and listen.” Benjis voice comes from next to me and my mother smiles. 

“Your loyalty doesn’t go unnoticed and he shall be treated well here.” my mother nods her head to his father. They start talking again and I pretend to pay attention until Benji starts kicking my feet again and we silently giggle. 

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13 years old

“Mother please.” I whine as she looks at me with an unamused expression. 

“You both torment the staff and now you think you’ll be allowed to fly above the city and torment the common folk as well?” I groan rolling my eyes. 

“We were just having fun. I wouldn’t think stealing cake counted as tormenting.” I throw my head back knowing we won’t be able to leave the Keep. 

“No, you two will remain within the Keep walls.” her words final. She exits my chambers and I groan. 

I wait for a couple of minutes before I push open the secret door and enter the tunnels. After three years of constant exploring with Benji we found them and have been memorizing them ever since. I try to not be alone in them for too long because there’s so many rats and bugs but he always makes sure to shoo them away. As I start towards his chambers I hear footsteps. 

“Benji?” I whisper sticking close to the wall. I creep forward hoping I was hearing things. As I turn the corner he jumps out at me and I yelp. I push him back as he’s in a fit of laughter and I turn on my heel to go back to my chambers. 

“You should’ve seen your face.” Benji is still laughing and I huff starting to walk away. “Y/n wait.” he giggles trying to catch his breath. I hear him jog after me and he grabs my wrist. 

“What?” I turn and glare at him. 

“Are we going flying or what?” he gives me a toothy grin. 

“My mother said we can’t leave the Keep.” I sigh. He grabs my hand and sneaks us out of the nearest exit into the halls. He squats down a bit and turns to me. 

“Well get on. I’ll be your dragon for the day.” a smile spreads across my face at his words. 

“Really?” I step closer and he nods. I climb onto his back and his arms hook around my legs to keep me secure as my hands hold onto his shoulders. He stands up and I giggle. 

“Forward, Benji.” I point ahead. 

“You know I don’t speak your secret language.” I don’t even have to see his face to know he’s rolling his eyes. 

“Forward, Benji.” he starts to jog down the halls and I laugh wildly on his back. He brings us down the stairs and guards are looking at us worriedly. As he runs us down the halls my mother steps out of the throne room and is fuming. 

“What are you two doing?” she says through her teeth as Benji brings us closer. “Get off of him.” she looks to me and my feet touch the ground before I stand at his side. 

“We’re just having fun. He offered to be my dragon since I’m not allowed to see mine.” she raises her eyebrows at my words. 

“Guards.” she calls out. “Escort these two back to their own chambers and see to it that they stay there. The guard nods and we sigh following them back up the stairs. After about an hour in my chambers there’s a soft knock on my wall and Benji is slipping in to keep me company once more. 

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16 years old

I close my eyes and lean back into Benji as we fly through the skies. This is one of my favorite things we do together. He’s never been afraid of my dragon and even asks me to take him out flying without me prompting. My dragon flies us over the city and gives out soft chirps and grumbles to the common folk below. We fly around for a couple more hours before we land in the pits where we know my mother is waiting for us. 

“Your dance lessons started an hour ago.” my mother is standing there with crossed arms as we land on the ground. 

“I know how to dance.” I groan dragging my feet over to her. 

“Go get changed and meet your instructor and Benji go to the training yard. You both are late.” she shakes her head before slipping out of the pit. Once we make it back to the Keep we part ways and I groan as I see the gown they want me to wear for this lesson. My handmaidens tie me into it and I’m out of my chambers on my way to my lesson. 

“Lovely of you to join me.” my instructor says and I sigh as we start our first steps. The lesson goes on longer than I would like and once I’m dismissed I race down the stairs and out into the yard. There I spot Benji who’s hammering his sword down onto the man in front of him. I stand back and watch him with a smile. He beats the other man and begins to walk over to me with a smile. 

“Hello princess.” he hums looking down at me in my puffy dress. “Don’t you look absolutely precious in your dress.” he coos pinching my cheeks. 

“Stop.” I cross my arms looking up to him. 

“Is that a command princess?” he taunts and my cheeks flush. 

“Ugh,” I glare at him before turning on my heel. 

“And now you’re pouting.” he teases me even more as he jogs to my side. 

“You’re insufferable and I should’ve never come to see you.” I can’t hide the smile that blooms across my face. 

“Mm, but you can never stay away for long.” I roll my eyes before walking back to the Keep. 

Over the years we’ve grown closer but as we’ve gotten older our teasing has become more flirtatious. I never thought I would see Benji in a different light but what was once just wanting company has turned into something else. We’re attached at the hip and the entire castle knows it. 

“Come train with me.” Benji calls after me and I stop and turn to him. 

“Will you be able to handle it if I beat you in this dress?” I hum with a smile. 

“I would be honored.” he bows deeply to me and I walk past him to the weapons table. 

“After this I’m teaching you how to dance.” he throws his head back and laughs. 

“As you wish.” he smiles as I grab a sword and face him. I know he’s holding back and allowing me to have the upper hand. It doesn’t frustrate me because I know he knows my competitive nature and that I’ll be disgruntled if he were to train with me seriously. We giggle around the ring and the spectators offer us smiles and soft glances. 

“I win.” I smile at him with my blade pressed to his chest. 

“You may be the realms best sword princess.” he grabs the sword from my hand and places our weapons back on the table. 

“And the best dancer.” I hum as I grab his hand leading him back into the Keep. 

“Just collecting all the titles?” he chuckles squeezing my hand. 

“Of course.” I raise my chin and lead him into the empty ballroom. 

“I don’t know how to dance.” he admits sheepishly. 

“Well good thing I’m the best.” I smile up at him. I keep our hands interlocked and bring his other hand to my waist and he looks at me quickly and I chuckle bringing my other hand up to his shoulder. He looks down at me with scrunched brows as I begin to sway us in the silence. 

“This is it?” he mumbles with red cheeks as he tries to move his hand from my waist. 

“Do you not want to dance with me Benji?” I tilt my head. 

“No I- I do.” he nods his head. “There’s just no music and I don’t know-“ 

“Shush.” I shake my head with a smile and place his hand back on my waist. 

We dance around the room in silence and he slowly becomes less tense and holds me closer. I rest my head on his chest as we float around the room. I hear how fast his heart is beating and I look up to him and smile at his flushed cheeks. 

“Your cheeks are redder than they are when you’re training.” I tease him. 

“Well I don’t have the heir to the throne pressed against me when I’m in the training yard.” he pushes me back keeping my hand in his as I twirl. 

“I thought you didn’t know how to dance?” I smirk as I walk around him still twirling. 

“I’ve been to enough balls over the years that I know some of the steps. Besides wasn’t this dress made for you to twirl around?” he pulls me back to him and my hands go to his chest to steady myself. 

“I think it was just made to make me mad at how heavy it is.” I sigh looking up to him. His hands dips down and lift up my skirts just so they rise above my ankles. I look up to him happy that the weight is being held by someone else. 

“Better?” his voice low as he looks down to me. 

“Much.” I smile and offer him a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.” I feel his hands fist the fabric of my skirts. 

“I should go change. We have supper soon.” he backs away dropping my skirts. He leaves me in the middle of the ballroom confused and embarrassed. 

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19 years old

“I don’t want to go on a tour. Why must I find a husband now?” I slide down in the chair across from my mother. 

“To strengthen your claim and line. I’ve allowed you to push it off as long as I can but you’re turning twenty soon.” my mother shakes her head. “Either find someone or I will have to pick for you.” my eyes widen and I shake my head. 

“I’ll find someone.” I smooth my skirts before darting out of her solar. As I make my way back to my chambers my mind races at having to find a husband. I’ve never looked at men besides Benji. I push the thought from my mind and enter my chambers and collapse to my bed. 

“What’s wrong?” I jolt hearing Benjis voice from my couch. 

“My mother wants me to find a husband or she’ll find one for me.” I roll to my side so I can look at him. 

“Do you have anyone in mind?” he tilts his head and I nibble my lip shaking my head. “No? There’s no one in the Keep?” I bury my head in my blankets at his words. 

“Benji.” I groan. I wish he knew that I’m not just saying his name to quiet him but answering his question as well. 

“Hm?” he hums from the couch. “Is no one here good enough for you?” I lift my head up and glare at him. 

“My mother wants me to go on a tour to seek a husband.” I see his jaw clench and his eyes darken at my words. 

“Do you wish to be paraded around?” he sighs settling back into the couch. 

“No, but I don’t have a choice it seems.” I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to admit to Benji that I like him. I want him to say something first but I may be waiting forever. “Will you come with?” my voice small as I turn to face him once more. 

“You want me to help you find a husband?” he looks to me amused. 

“No. Yes.” I sigh wiping my face. “I don’t know, Benji. I just..” I trail off shaking my head. 

“You just what?” he prompts me to keep talking. 

“Come or don’t. I leave at the end of the week.” I wave my hand at him. “I’m going to nap before supper, come get me when it’s ready.” I roll onto my stomach and bury my head in the pillows. I feel the bed dip next to me and I turn and see Benji laying with me. 

“We used to nap all the time.” he murmurs brushing the hair off my face. 

“We’re not kids anymore.” I scoot a fraction closer to him. 

“No we’re not.” he hums kissing my forehead and holding me against him. I turn my body to face him and he pulls me against his chest. I rest my head above his heart and let the even beating lull me to sleep. 

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“Princess.” my handmaidens voice wakes me and I sit up blinking. “Supper is soon.” I take in her red cheeks and I know mine are the same color at the position she found us in. 

“Thank you.” I nod my head to her and she leaves my chambers quickly. I turn and look and Benji still asleep next to me. I lay down next to him once more and admire his peaceful expression. I brush his hair back and he starts to stir and slowly opens his eyes. 

“Gods, am I still dreaming?” his voice raspy as he cups one of my cheeks with his hand. 

“Do you dream about me, Benji?” my voice soft as I continue to brush his hair back. 

“Every night.” his tired eyes search mine.

“Supper is ready.” I rise from the bed so he doesn’t see the extent of my blush. 

“Someone is shy after her nap.” Benji laughs as he gets up. “Tell me, did you dream of me too?” his voice low as he comes up behind me. 

“I will not give you the satisfaction of answering that.” I purse my lips and he smiles even wider. 

“You did. Look at you blushing.” he pinches my cheeks and I turn and storm out of my chambers with him close behind. “Well what was the dream about?” he teases and I groan. 

“That I was strangling you.” I roll my eyes and he laughs. 

“How intimate. Were you looking in my eyes when you did it?” his voice low as we glide down the steps. 

“Enough.” I hiss as we turn the corner into the dining hall. 

“Did you end up killing me or just kissing me?” he whispers in my ear and I shoulder past him to my seat. 

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On the tour

My mother was furious when I told her Benji was coming with me on the tour. At first I thought he wouldn’t come with me but when he saw that I wasn’t getting out of it he insisted on coming with. His presence has deterred a lot of my potential suitors but I’m not much mad at it. My mother allowed us a stop in Raventree Hall and Benji is jittery as we approach. 

“Do you think your brother would make a good match for me?” I hum trying to hide my smile as he snaps his head toward me. 

“You are not marrying my brother.” his voice stern. 

“I may.” his nostrils flare at my words. 

“I won’t allow it.” he shakes his head. “If you’re marrying anyone from my house it’ll be-“ he clenches his jaw and turns to look out the carriage once more. 

“Who? Your father? Would you like me to be your mother?” I laugh not trying to hide my amusement. 

“No.” his word clipped. The tension in the carriage is palpable as we approach the gates. He offers me his hand to help me out and I accept. He keeps our hands linked as we enter the main yard and his father is waiting for us. 

“Look at you. A man grown.” his father smiles. “Princess.” he bows his head to me. 

“I’m going to show her around.” his father nods with a smile as we brush past him. Benji takes his time showing me around the grounds and the halls. We end at the massive weirwood that houses hundreds of ravens and I look up at them in awe. 

“When are you going to introduce me to your brother?” I turn to him and see that he’s already watching me. 

“I won’t be.” his eyes dark. 

“Then who here is asking for my hand? The ravens?” I tilt my head with a lazy smile. 

“I am.” I blink at his words as he studies me. 

“Like you’d actually want to wed me.” I squint my eyes watching him. Gods I want him to be serious. I can send a raven back to my mother and we can go home and be wed by the next moon. 

“I do.” his features soften and my heart starts to race. 

“Why?” I ask trying to calm my nerves. 

“Because I’ve been in love with you for almost a decade now.” he steps closer to me and I tilt my head to keep our eye contact. 

“Benji, do not jest with me.” my voice soft as I search his eyes. 

“I’m not. I just never knew when to tell you and now you’re on a tour to find a husband and you asked me to come with and that just..” he shakes his head. “Marry me, Y/n.” he cups my cheeks and I nod my head in his hands. “Say it.”

“I want to marry you, Benjicot Blackwood.” I look up at him with pure adoration. 

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Back in Kings Landing

“I don’t know why you both couldn’t have decided this before I sent you on a tour.” my mother shakes her head with a smile. 

“I wanted to see my options.” Benji scoffs next to me at my words. 

“Did you? You dragged me along with you.” my mother watches us silently laughing. 

“You insisted on coming with.” I roll my eyes turning to him. 

“Regardless, I’m glad you made a decision.” my mother cuts in. “The ceremony will be at the end of the month. Should you two need anything please let me know.” she rises and leaves the council chambers. 

“So why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I fidget with the marble balls. 

“You’re intimidating and a princess of the realm.” he looks to me as if it’s obvious. “The heir to the throne. Why would you pick me? You could have anyone.” I frown at his words. 

“Benji, I’ve wanted you just as badly.” his eyes snap to mine. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he shakes his head. 

“I don’t know. I figured you met someone or something..” I trail off avoiding his eyes.

“When would I have met someone?” he chuckles. 

“When you and your little training friends go down to the street of silk.” I nibble my lip. 

“You expected me to wed someone from the street of silk? Growing up in the Red Keep made my tastes a little more refined.” he raises an eyebrow at me. 

“Well I don’t know what happens there. Maybe you had some life changing experience.” my voice soft as I look up to him with red cheeks. 

“What brought this on?” he comes to sit in the chair next to me. 

“I’m not experienced. What if you don’t like bedding me as much. I haven’t even kissed anyone.” I turn to him and he’s biting his lip to hide his smile. “Gods I shouldn’t have said anything.” I cover my face with my hands. He pries my hands away and offers me a warm smile. 

“I’ve thought about bedding you since I’ve hit puberty. You’re my nightly fantasy.” his words cause my blush to deepen. 

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better?” I murmur looking at him. 

“Every night after I leave your chambers I go back to mine and fall back on my bed and shove my hand in my trousers. I think about you laying beneath me squirming as I move my-“ 

“Benji.” my voice breathless as I rise from the chair covering his mouth with my hand. “Are you done?” I ask exasperated lowering my hand. 

“I didn’t even get to the other one where my head is buried beneath your skirts.” he smirks at my ever reddening cheeks. “Do you touch yourself at night when you’re all alone?” my eyes widen. 

“That’s none of your business.” I huff. 

“Try it tonight.” he rises and towers above me. 

“I won’t tell you if I did or not.” I steel myself as he steps closer to me. 

“I’ll know.” his hands rest on my waist. 

“How?” I squeak as he pulls me flush against him and dips his head down to my neck.

“Cause you’ll be blushing furiously the second you see me.” he whispers against my skin before placing a soft kiss. 

“Benji,” I gasp digging my fingers into his arms. “Someone could see us.” I pull back and he chuckles. 

“Of course, princess.” his hand slides into mine and he pulls us out of the council chambers. 

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One week before wedding

Benji and I have been spending the same amount of time together as we normally do but now the energy between us is charged. Every touch has a longing behind it that has us staring at each other. Our hugs seem to linger and soon excuses fall from our lips to always be near one another. 

“I’m surprised you still want to spend so much time with me after an entire decade.” I smile at him from the couch. 

“It’ll never be enough.” my heart flutters at his words. 

“I wish you would’ve said something sooner.” I pout. 

“I had to work up the courage.” he chuckles taking a seat next to me. 

“Waiting until the last minute. We could’ve been wed by now.” I sigh turning to him. 

“We can wait one more week.” he smiles patting my hand. 

“But I want to kiss you now.” his eyes darken at my words. 

“Mm, do you?” his eyes glance at my lips before they meet mine again. 

“Please Benji,” I scoot closer to him. 

“Come here.” he pulls me next to him. “I’ll give you something to think about when you’re under your covers later.” he smirks. 

“Don’t tease me.” I pout. 

“But I love to see you blush.” he hovers his lips above mine. 

“I’ve changed my mind. You don’t deserve to kiss me.” I pull back. He chuckles before pulling me back to him and placing his lips on mine. He licks across my lips and I gasp as he slips it into my mouth. I turn completely and start to climb into his lap. He groans as I settle while my tongue follows his as it explores. 

“We should stop.” he squeezes my waist. 

“No.” I capture his lips again. My hands travel up his neck into his hair holding him against me. Our tongues dance slowly and I absentmindedly roll my hips. He grunts and is lifting us off of the couch. I wrap my legs around him and cling to him while our lips stay on each other. He tosses me back on my bed and looks down at me with red cheeks. 

“Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” his voice low as his eyes travel over my body. 

“Or you can stay.” I nibble my lip looking up to him. 

“Have a good night.” he lingers before he turns and walks to the tunnel entrance. 

“Benji.” I whine from my bed. He turns and looks at me one last time before shaking his head with a smile. 

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Wedding day

I look to Benji as we say our vows and my eyes fill with tears. The maester pronounces us wed and Benji pulls me against him. Our lips seal our bond and I hold him tightly. The crowd around us cheers and we slowly pull apart with flushed faces as we look to our families. 

“My beautiful wife.” he hums looking down at me while we make our way off the dais. He brings us over to our table and servants our filling our plates and cups at once. “Do you think they could spread you across the table for me?” he whispers in my ear and I cough on my wine.

“Enough.” I slide my eyes to him and he’s smirking at me. 

“I suppose I could always go under the table.” his voice only audible to me and I squeeze my thighs together at the thought. 

“Eat your food.” I roll my eyes and start with my own plate. We give each other heated looks throughout the meal until he’s rising and pulling me to the center of the room to share our first dance. 

“The first time I danced here was with you when we were six and ten.” he looks at me tenderly as we begin to sway with the soft music.

“I remember.” I hum fondly. “You ran out after I gave you a kiss on your cheek.” I giggle caressing his cheek. 

“Mm, so you’re teasing me now?” he raises an eyebrow. 

“No, I would never.” I bite my lip to hide my smile. 

“I’ll remember this later.” his voice low as my cheeks heat. We finish our dance and the rest of the guests join us for more as the next song begins. After an hour we begin to walk around and talk with guests who congratulate us. We slip out of the main doors and we walk to my chambers together. 

“Now I don’t have to sneak in through the tunnels.” he laughs opening the door for me. I watch him shut the door nibbling my lip. “Are you feeling shy now?” he says lowly walking over to me. 

“No.” my voice small as I shake my head. He cups my face and I look up to him through my lashes. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he glances at my lips and I nod my head. His lips press against mine and I sigh into him. I push my hands under his jacket feeling his muscles under his tunic. He groans into me as I lift it up and press my fingers into his skin. “Gods how are you the one teasing right now?” he mumbles kissing down my jaw. 

“I’m not.” my voice breathy as he starts to suck on my neck. “I just want to touch you.” he nips at my neck and I moan. 

“Can I take your dress off?” his hands are waiting at the laces. 

“Yes, please,” I nod my head as he slowly pulls on them. He helps the dress slide down my arms and watches as it forms a satin pile at my feet. I step out of it and he watches my every move. His eyes travel over my exposed skin until they find my pout. 

“What could you possibly be pouting about?” he chuckles placing his hands on my bare waist. 

“I want to touch your skin too.” I pull at his belt and he makes quick work of the rest of his clothes. “Thank you, husband.” I hum as my hands go to his chest. He leans down and captures me in a kiss as our chests press into one another. 

“Tell me, did you ever touch yourself?” my eyes fly open at his words. 

“Benj-“ my words stopped by a moan as his fingers dip between my thighs. 

“I think you did after you begged me to stay the other night.” he taunts swirling his fingers around my bud. “Did you come?” a whine falls from my lips as my nails dig into his arms. 

“No.” I gasp resting my head on his chest as my hips chase his fingers. “I wanted to wait for you.” his fingers move faster at my words. 

“Let me not keep you waiting any longer.” he holds me against him to support me as his fingers slide through my wetness bringing more back to my throbbing bud. 

“Benji, I-“ I whimper as I hold onto him as my legs begin to shake. 

“I got you.” his fingers start a quick rhythm and I cry out as pleasure washes through me. My legs clamp around his hand as his fingers keep moving. He chuckles as I tremble in his arms before he removes his hand. He walks us back to the bed and watches me try to catch my breath as I lay back. He settles between my thighs and I look down to him with scrunched brows. 

“What’re you doing?” I look down at him and he offers me a dark smile. 

“I’m gunna taste you.” he dips his head down and looks up to me as he licks up my slit. 

“Benji,” I gasp fisting the sheets. His hands hold my thighs open as he begins to lap at my wetness. “Yes,” I whine as my hips grind against his face. I feel him chuckle into me and I moan at the feeling. He lifts up but starts to slide his fingers through me again. 

“Let me know if you need me to stop.” I nod my head looking down at him. His tongue makes its way back to my bud as he begins to push a finger in. My body jolts at the feeling but it’s replaced with loud moans as he presses a second finger in. One of my hands tangles in his hair holding him against me as he licks at me. 

“Please, Benji yes,” I cry as I explode around his fingers. He slowly pulls his fingers out and looks up to me with a wet chin. He makes his way up to my face and I pull his lips against mine. I feel him press into my wetness and I whimper against him. 

“Are you ready?” he searches my eyes as I squirm beneath him. 

“Yes.” I nod my head. He starts to push into me and I gasp at the stretch. Every inch is stealing my breath and he presses kisses across my face until he’s fully settled in me. He kisses me softly as he brings his fingers back to my bud to slowly swirl around. I slowly start to rock my hips and he presses his forehead against mine. 

“Can I move?” he rasps. 

“Please.” I nod my head and bring his lips back to mine. He starts a slow rhythm that has me clinging onto him. His hips start to move faster and my moans begin to pour out of my mouth. His fingers swirl quicker around my bud and my pleasure slams through me. I feel his warmth begin to fill me as I continue to pulse around him. 

“You’re perfect.” he grunts still slowly pushing into me. I shudder beneath him as he pulls out and collapses next me to me. He pulls me against his chest and brushes my hair back. 

“I hope I was as good as your fantasies.” I say softly looking up to him. 

“Gods you were so much better.” he pulls me up to place a kiss on my lips once more. 

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[lady-dragon-rider]

Scales and Feathers Pt.3

Davos/Benjicot Blackwood, Oscar Tully x Targ! Reader

Reader continues to get to know her future lord husbands when tragedy strikes in the form of several letters.

///

Davos/Benjicot gets mildly cockblocked by a murder, a few letters, and a rouge prince.

Containing: Character death, a death is also averted, era-cannon violence, blood, mild pre-wedding 'getting to know each other' phase hiccups, willem and Samwell have a proud dad/uncle moment

Featuring: Daemon's Trip pt1., reader pulls a rogue princess moment pt1., willem x rhaenyra mention, Brackens pull some shit bc Aeron is salty resulting in a punch-on, brief Oscar and Benji POV

This will be a long one so buckle in ladies and gents!

Bold is text spoken as High Valyrian

---

Your final days at Riverrun were a blur. Occasionally following around Oscar as he went about his day, practising his duties as heir apparant, spending time in the library or riding Silverwing. When the day came to leave you felt a sense of sadness, having gotten use to the views when in flight and having finally gotten familiar with the castle.

Elmo Tully meets you at the gates with Oscar at his side, both readying to see you off as the servants scurry around them preparing your things for departure. They both smile and bow politely as they greet you.

"Good morrow Princess" Oscar's father greets, "i do hope you have enjoyed your stay here. I wish you safe travels and hope that in the coming weeks honor us again with your presence if you do choose to wed my son"

Oscar seems to flush a little at the notion of you coming back for his hand and looks away when your gazes meet.

"Yes Lord Tully, my stay here was indeed wonderful. Im very thankful for your hospitality. I pray that your father recovers swiftly and hope for the riverlands continued loyalty to my mother." You cursty and make your way across the bridge. There is a tense silence as you leave, the Tully men looking at each other quickly; an understanding shared between them. Unspoken.

As you cross the small field to where Silverwing has made an impromptu sleeping area close to the castle you heave a huge sigh. She stirs at your melancholy and moves to nudge you affectionately to cheer you up. "Thank you dear friend, unfortunately out work is not yet done. And who knows, we may yet return here for a permanent place if this other boy turns out to be dull"

The dragon chirps in an understanding way, seemingly happy your mood appears better. Sword at side - a gift from your step-father - and riding leathers on, you mount the blue-grey beast and set to the skies as you follow your entourage to your next location.

--- Oscar POV, after the princess leaves ---

When Oscar and Elmo see the princess safely take the skies the young Tully faces his father, his expression stormy. "At the risk of sounding petulant father, i have a question" he starts.

"Of course dear boy, what is it?" Elmo murmurs, bemused.

"What are you playing at?"

"Excuse me?"

"With the princess. What are you playing at? I know for a fact that it was part of your doing that she attended some of the meetings, along with shadowing me as i did my duties. Why ever would you subject the princess of all people to such a thing." He spoke sharply, tone pointed as he looked at his lord father. "Do you have any idea how awkward it felt to have her there? She had nothing to do but to stand there and i practically ignored her as i rushed around no doubt looking like a chicken with its head cut off!" He sighed. His father however looked a more than amused at his exasperated expression.

"I merely wished for her to see your potential as the next lord, after me that is. She also needs to see what it takes to run this house, if she does wed you she will be a lady of this house and her jobs and responsibilities will change in accordance with this. Something im sure that as a princess, she already knows." Elmo reasons, placing a steadying hand on Oscar's shoulder.

"My potential? What do you mean? All she saw me do was bark orders and shuffle about paperwork about ." He grumbles childishly. It was at times like this he wished he father didnt speak so vaugely.

"To make a good partner and lord. That marrying you will be the more beneficial choice" Elmo replied simply "Simply put, that you are a competent, fair and with good wits. And that these traits will make you a good husband. That and making sure you spent time even in each other company, to make the heart fonder"

"There is no way that works." Oscar grumbled

"Well it worked for your mother and I" his father shrugged, sauntering back into the castle walls.

---

After your days in Riverrun, you had gotten comfortable with flying over the terrain of the riverlands. The marshy greenness and the sounds of rushing water bringing you a sense of home; reminding you of the waters of Dragonstone.

Your arrival at Raventree is similar to your arrival of the Tully house. A group of Blackwood men, accompanied by some household servants greet you upon landing in a clearing near the residence. Benjcot, Willem and Samwell - Benjicots father youve been told - are among them.

"Princess" Samwell bows deeply "I hope your journey was pleasant."

Curstying back you smile politely. "Is was indeed my lord. Lord Willem, Lord Benjicot." The two men bow and greet you as you call their names, giving you greetings in response as well.

"Your carriages with your things should be arriving within the next couple of hours. Until then, my son can give you a tour." Samwell suggests, lightly pushing his son forward. Benjicot stumbles a little at the force of the older mans shove, nearly slipping in the mud and meeting the ground, but he recovers and clears his throat.

"Should you wish it princess, that is. Im sure youd be more than happy to roam the skies around our home." He mumbles, hands clasped behind his back to hide his nerves as Silverwing moves her head to hang over your form, curious as looks down at the boy. "Though... if and when you tire of that princess... we have uhhh... a place dedicated for your.. um... companion... if she prefers to sleep somewhere enclosed than under the stars..." he pushes forward, voice tight with tension as he forces himself to keep your gaze and ignore the way his back dampens with sweat. Benji gestures behind you and across the way you see a structure seemingly built into the walls of the cliff face. "Its a large cave that we expanded the entrance to, to make exiting and entering less cramped."

You smile widely as he explains turning to Silverwing and petting her snout lovingly. "You hear that? They heard we would be coming and went so far as you make you a precious gift. Be sure to give it a thorough inspection and get back to me, we cant have you being uncomfortableif we are to live here forever." She chirps and groans nuzzling into your warmth, causing a fit of giggles to burst forth. The Blackwoods look at the interaction with inspired reverance, as you interact with such a beast with the ease of breathing. "Though i suppose i will let you rest for now. Go look at your cave and i will bring you a treat later."

She acknowledges your command and despite her large size, deftly glides her way over with a few strong flaps of her wings. You turn to the young lord and take his arm, causing his face the heat with impressive speed. "I think i will take you up on that tour."

---

You hadnt realised how long the tour had taken until the sun had just began to turn the sky the golden orange of early afternoon. You had managed to convince Benji to join you on a stop to the "Dragon Roost" as he called it, in order to feed your beloved she-dragon.

"Have you been here since construction was completed?" You ask

"Only once, with uncle. He wanted to make sure that the cave itself wouldnt need further moulding to make it comfortable for a dragon, so that they may still be able to grow and not be too restricted." He says, offering a steadying arm to you. As the heir leads the way, torch in hand he continues. "He said he wished to offer this place to the Princess Rheanyra as a bridal gift should they be wed after her late lord husband. But he just missed his chance and she ended up marrying the Rouge Prince Daemon. Even now i still think he holds a torch for her, ots a bit weird if im honest." He rambles, voice echoing of the walls.

"I think its endearing... in a way, he accepted her dragon - Syrax - as apart of her and wished to accommodate her as a way to show her he wanted her to be apart of his family." You muse wistfully. "Though there isnt much use of it currently, im sure one day it will fulfil its house's needs."

The boy next to you hums thoughtfully. "I suppose that is a kind way to look at it Princess. I hadnt thought of it like that."

You reach the bottom of the carved staircase and met with a large cavernous room, sconces are hammers haphazardly in various parts of the walls. Most are unlit due to its uninhabitance but the few at the entrance are. Taking a torch carefully you venture to one side and place the light in your hand into its new home presence makes itself known as it shuffles just beyond the lights view.

"Come forward Silverwing." The power in your voice bounces off the stone, giving it a hum of something ethereal. Untouchable.

The form of the she-dragon comes into the light, dripping her scales in the angry colour of fire, making her appearance more frightening. Ben has to pull himself together and not react with fear as the torch in his hand threatens to fall. You on the otherhand have no such fear. Calm and graceful you turn you back and wander over to where he is rooted in place. The bull at his side makes a stress noise at the lack of visibility is ushered by you with soothing coos as you affectionately lead it too its death.

"Drakarys"

Flames erupt from silverwings mouth, dousing the bovine creature and turning it swiftly into a mildly charred lump. Benjis mouth falls open as she all but devours the thing in two to three swift chomps. As if the thing had merely been a small potato on her plate. It was then that ben truly marvelled at the sheer danger of these creatures. Raw power coupled with a mysterious intrigue that would leave anyone who had no sense dead and consumed. This was something not meant to be trifled with by mere mortals. "Ok, now that that is done, shall we go to this feast? Silverwing shall be fine on her own now. She is capable of hunting for herself when needed." You say, taking his hand and following the path out the cave.

---

Dinner was a vibrant affair, loud chatter and cheers from all corners of the room and music played and people danced. You sit at the head table with Willem, Samwell, Benjicot and Alysanne. Benji sits to you right and Aly on your left.

As you gaze out into the hall, your food mostly finished when Benjicot's voice whispers into your ear. "I think we should show these old men how to dance, dont you agree princess?"

You giggle quietly as you nod "i think that is the best idea youve had all day" you tease. You stand and he leads you to the open floor to dance with some others. The song changes to a light-hearted folk tune, the crowd cheers and forms two lines one for men and one for women.

"You ever done a riverlands dance before?" He asks quietly. You shake your head in response. He smiles "then dont worry, follow my lead."

The dance, fast paced and energetic throws you into the deep end immediately. You try and mimic the moves around you but you struggle to keep up, stumbling and stepping on Benjis toes. He laughs at your flushed face and wraps his arm around your back to guide you. "Just feel the music princess, you dont have to think too hard about it. I promise no one is watching. Just have fun!"

His words resonate and as the song progresses you find yourself following his advice. Laughing and enjoying the peaceful free moment and forgetting all about why you were here in the first place. The Blackwood brothers Samwell and Willem look on at the pair, glancing at each other with pleased grins, patting each other shoulders as they both exchanged a moment of silent pride in Benjicot.

The song ends and you both grin ear to ear, beet red and sweaty from excursion and excitement. Benji escorts you off the dance floor as a new melody fills the halls and you smile at the older Blackwood gentlemen. "My lords, thank you very much for your hospitality, this evening has been all that i couldve hoped for and more. Though i believe i may excuse myself and retire for the night."

"Of course princess, im thrilled that you have enjoyed yourself. My son will take you to your rooms, sleep well" Benjicots father replies formally. You curtsy and follow Benji out of the hall. Once at your rooms, the cooler air of the hallways seep into your body making you yawn.

"Sleep well my princess. I hoped you enjoyed your taste of Riverland dance." He smirks bringing your hand to his lips. He takes his leave as you walk into the room and flop onto the bed. You change and slip under the covers, the smile on your face failing to leave.

This is a great start to my stay here. It will surely never be boring with Benji.

---

You awake the next morning, and head down to the dining hall to breakfast. You find a place in between Benji and Aly, smiling and giving a quiet greeting as a plate of food is brought out before you.

"How did you sleep my princess? I was wondering if you had no plans for the day if you wish to-" Benjicot starts, but before he can finish the proposal the hall doors burst open. A man of stout stature, red faced and panting runs as fast as his legs can carry him.

"I have a message for the Princess (Name)!" He wheezes stumbling up the steps to the head table to pass the note to you. The seal is that of your mother, which in any other circumstance would bring you joy, but a sense of foreboding leaves your breakfast curdling in your stomach. As you open and read the letter tears well in your eyes and your breathing hitches.

"Princess? Whats wrong?" Aly mumbles, hand touching your shoulder. The tears come faster as you shake your head passing the letter to your new friend and burying your head into Benjicot's chest. Sobbing in full force. Benji looks at his Aunt and mouthes a silent 'what's going on?' She shakes her head and mouths something that makes Benjicots heart stop.

Her brother Luke is dead.

"Im sorry... i need to go, i have to be with my family" you say, body shaking with sobs, getting up after gently peeling yourself from his protective embrace.

You fling the doors of your rooms open, startling Adela, who takes one look at your face and rushes over.

"(Name)! Whats happened?! You were so excited this morning.... has that young lord said something to upset you? Ill have Ser Lorant have words to him" she says sternly affection and protectiveness bubbling under her form.

"No Adela... I received a letter from mother..." you cry "Luke has been killed by my Uncle Aemond!" Adela's hold on you tightens.

"What are we to do? Did you mother say what she wants?" She asks delicately. Her hands stroke your back and hair in comfort, as she tries to peer into your eyes. You nod and straighten yourself clearing your throat before speaking.

"Yes... she wants me to ride back to dragonstone for a funeral... while she also wishes me to stay here to be safe... she wants the family to be together in times of grief and doesnt want me to grieve such a loss away from them..." you sniffle. Adela, quick in her understanding, begins to pack a small bag.

"You wont need much if you are to head back home. I have packed a change of clothes in here, the rest shall stay here as you have left it for your return. Im sure once the funeral is over.... you mother will wish to send you back here to continue your search for an alliance and husband...." she trails off knowing that the thought of your orginal plans are the furthest thing from your mind. "Princess... please send a raven when you get there safely... otherwise me and the other ladies will worry..." she frets tears threatening to spill from her eyes at your distress. You embrace her again and you hold each other in the intimate silence of loss.

"Of course." You whisper. "It will be the first thing i do when i land."

--- Benjicot POV ---

Benjicot paces the meeting hall where the lords and bannermen of his house have gathered for an emergency meeting after the news of Luke's death circulates.

"This means war! Those damn greens have drawn first blood, we must respond for the sake of the Queen and Princess!" A Lord shouts

"To attack kin in such a way... under the sanctity of a messenger no less! Such a crime can only be paid for in blood!" Another agrees

"QUIET" Samwell silences the whole room falling still. Benji stops his pacing to stare at his father. He had only seen his father angry - truly angry - on only a handful of occasions. Once, when he had accidently broken a vase his late mother had been gifted the day she had married his father, the second was when his Uncle had proposed his father get remarried to gain and alliance and more heirs. He could now count this and the third. The stormy look in his fathers eyes scared away all warmth. His shoulders tense. Fists clenched. "We will do nothing of the sort without the Queens order. We will act as her sword ONLY on her command. Not before." He barks.

"But father-" Benji speaks. He voice grinds to a halt as Samwell whips his head into his direction. He gulps, and continues carefully "Should we not at least respond in some way? Send a raven with our condolences and to reassure the Queen that our allegiance is with her and the Princess. Even if no marriage bears fruit?"

Samwell huffs. Shaking his head and looking at him with a much softer gaze. "And when did you become so wise without my knowledge boy? It is not a bad thought though. Be sure that it is you who sends it." He acknowledges turning to now adress the room "The princess has taken leave to be with her family, she has assured me that this will not hinder her efforts to pick a husband and when her time at dragonstone has concluded she will return here and continue her stay under the condition she will have our houses protection."

"Like the princess would need to make such a request from us." A bannerman murmurs confidently "Her mother is the been the rightful heir for as long as anyone needs to remember. Should the queen send her here for protection, marriage alliance or not, we will glady give it till our last man" the room roars in agreement, clanking their goblets on the table.

The meeting finishes soon after, each man having their orders to carry out with haste. Benjicot heads to his room, anger having him wound tight. He hadnt known the princess long, how was he this upset and angry on her behalf? He couldnt quite place the feeling. All he knew was the moment he saw her tears, heard her cries was that those who had brought about such a thing would bleed. And that he would make it so. His only thought was that someone a smile as sweet as hers - a smile he loves to look at - should only know happiness. His door slams open as his Aly storms in. She too as wound with as much tension as she.

"What are you doing at the minute?" She asks

"Finishing a letter to send to the Queen. Why?" He says

"Because.... there have been Brackens sighted at the border near the old mill" she winces "i know this is the last thing we need but we need to go and see what they are up to and if we can deter them without causing ourselves any bother."

"Your right that its the last thing i want to be dealing with. But its Brackens... and they wont back down easy, so we will need to be very careful." He agrees. He seals the letter and ties it to the foot of his raven, commanding it as his window opens. "Lets go deal with this before father finds out."

---

The moment he and Aly arrive tensions seem to be at a boiling point, a small group of blackwood scouts is currently nose to nose with a Bracken hunting party. Jabs and insults can be heard from across the field as the pair approach.

"Well look who has arrived to put a leash on his dogs, the wannabe 'dragon rider' Bloody Ben!" Their leader Aeron jeers "i see the Princess isnt with you, scare her off with your stench and barbarity already?"

"At least she chose me. She didnt give you a second glance. In fact, i seem to recall her almost falling asleep as your droned on and on about her prim and proper your house is" he counters. "Take you kills and get off our lands. We have more important things to do than to hold your hands because you dont know how to hunt anything that isnt bought"

Me smirks inwardly as he see Aeron bristle at the mention of not getting picked. His insults clearly not having the affect that he wanted.

Be cool, stay calm. If a fight breaks out now there is a chance the princess wont be able to come back and then youll lose your shot with her forever.

A tense moment passes between the two heirs. Aeron looks like he is about to turn around, before swinging back and decking himself in the face. Benji recoils at the blow before responding quickly with a hook of his own. Which renders the Bracken boy unconscious and bleeding from the nose. "Take him and pursue this no further." He hisses, sniffing and wiping the blood from his nose and lip. He turns on his heel and stalks off. "Lets go! We are done here" as he makes to the trek back home he makes a silent prayer to himself.

Please gods, let the princess return safely.

--- (Name) POV ---

The funeral for Luke was depressingly short. Having no body, you were forced to burn a handful of item that were previously owned by him. It was a intimate family affair. You cuddle at the sides of your sister-cousins, Rhaena clutching onto your arm as Baela nestles into your shoulder, her other hand holding Jace's. Words of love, grief and fond memories are shared as you all console one another. When it is finished, you find your mother staring out into the horizon. The sun setting painting the sky beautiful pinks and purples.

"So... i thought youd want to know how things were progressing with my marital options" you say carefully, trying to ease the topic onto something light to distract your dear mum.

She laughs wistfully, aware of your attempt and accepting it greatfully. "Yes dear one, how have these boys been? Your letters seem to be getting vauger and more sparce"

"Well Oscar seems like he has a good head on his shoulders and like someone i could most certainly grow to love. He has a sharp wit and has no problem putting men much older than he into their place when they forget themselves" you explain, holding Rheanyra's hand as you gaze out to sea.

"And the other?"

"Well we shared a dance together... my first ever Riverlands style dance" you state, the happiness of the memoru beginning to resurface.

"Oh? And what was that like" your mother prompts

"Wild. Full of life and energy, not like those court dances they make us do for lessons." You laugh "its the sort of dance that make you feel invigorated afterwards even though you legs burn and heart feels like its in your throat... but in a good way?" You say thoughtfully, trying to think of the best way to describe it. "I havent been able to spend as much time with Benjicot as I have with Oscar, but he seems like a lively young man who will bring me a sense of fulfillment." You finish.

Your mother sqeezes your hand lovingly. She takes a deep breath in and shakily exhales. "It pains me to have to send you away again my darling daughter... but i must. For you safety, for our cause and most important... to try and give you a future to look forward to... to fight for."

You hug her. Tightly. She reciprocates with fierce hold of her own.

"I believe i finally understand what you mean... im sorry for being spoiled before i left..." you whine. She laughs, this time lore hearty and loving.

"That is forgotten child. To see you stand before me now, more mature and grown than last we say each other. It fills me with more love and lride than you could know." Rheanyra cups your cheeks and stares deep into your eyes. "I love you so much. Thank you for being my brave girl, you make me so proud."

New tears spring forth at her confession. You stay in the moment, before making your way back to the castle hand in hand.

---

Despite the hard exhausting flight and the high emotions of the day, you find no sleep, leaving you to wander the halls of your familiar family home.

As you pass by an open balcony a shape down near the courtyard catches your eye. The contrast of sliver hair within the darkness. You squint to get a better look and realise that its your step-father. The time of night makes alarm bells sound in your head.

This cant be good.

You do your best to up, having rushed back to you rooms to grab your sword. Fortunately you know the keep better than anyone; using the passages and hidden tunnels to hide from your septas and their endless lessons. You reach the dragon mount just as you see the end of Ceraxes's tail slip out of the caves entrance and into the night. As quietly as you can you call for Silverwing, who eagerly awaits your arrival.

"We will need to be quiet. Step-father doesnt know we are following him. Fly low and safe as mother tells us."

She snorts in response and deftly follows the Daemon and the Bloodwyrm. The darkness, along with your companions colour, make for great stealth as you follow a safe distance away to avoid detection.

You land on the shores of kings landing on a secluded beach. You instruct Sliverwing to hide near the big rocks to make sure no one will alert the kings guard, and find the quickest way you know to get into the city. You hide you hair and sword as best as you can as you navigate the streets in search of Daemon. I really wish i took up Luke and Jace's offer to explore the city when we were last here... it would make this bit so much easier. As if the gods themselves take pity on you, as you round the corner you see Daemon. You see him talking to two men, before sliding a fat sack of coins across the table. You cant quite hear what they are saying and unable to get closer without getting caught your head can only draw one conclusion. An eye for and eye.

The two men leave the table with the gold and turn and head in the direction your hiding. You panic, but thinking on your feet you decide you hide your face and curl up on the ground like your homeless. They walk passed without sparing you a glance. You glance up and see they are far enough away to begin following them.

You weave your way through the back alleys as the pair talk in hushed whispers and harsh tones. Only hearing bits and pieces you can surmise that they are going to attempt to kill Aemond, lukes murderer. But if they cant... then stopping Aegon's line will do as well. The thought makes you want to hurl. You picture Helaena's twins, Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, complete sweeties and entirely innocent. Mother would not want this. Luke wouldnt either. He had always been worried that if he took Driftmark, your grandsire Corlys's seat, that it would mean everyone else had been killed. The irony that he had been killed first made you want to cry again. I will stop them. I promise Luke.

You watch as they enter the a passageway where you wait for but a moment before following. Upon entering the passway you can finally hear the echos of their conversation.

"We will follow this passage to get to the heart of the red keep, we will then wait for the queen to bring her children to the dowager queens chamers." One voice

"How do you know she'll bring them?" The other asks

"Because it is common knowledge among the castle staff that she brings them to see their grandmother every night." The first voice hisses "Then after, we take this here tunnel back outside and go to harrenhal for the biggest paycheck of our lives courtesy of the Rogue Prince himself"

The chatter stops and you stop in your tracks. Holding you breath and reaching for your sword, a Valyrian steel Gladius. Fearing you may have been caught you retreat a little into the darker parts of the passage waiting for any signs of movement.

"We must move now. It shouldnt be long"

You hear a rustle and a soft click, marking that the two men have left the the hidden entrance. You step out after them and glance around to get your bearings. You move swift and quiet as you put your skills and knowledge of your years experience to the test. You reach the queens chamber and see the guard dead and the door ajar. Crap! Please dont say that im too late!

"You have to pick your majesty" a voice beyond the door taunts. "You must pick a who dies."

You fling the door open and as the light shines behind you the two men look in shock.

"How about i choose" you glare coldly. Quick as a flash your sword slices the air, meeting the flesh of the shorter mans arm. It cleaves the arm off cleanly, causing the man the scream and stumble back into the furniture behind him. Spinning around the deadly grace you swing your weapon toward the taller mans neck, aiming for the jugular. Just a nick will do, just to bring him down to your level to finish the job. A few more swift strikes and it is over. The bodies of the two would be assassins lay at your feet with you, covered in their blood. You clean the blood off SeaScale - your blade - before looking at Helaena, who is currently untying her mother and holding her children. "Helaena" you fret "Are you alright? Are you or the children hurt?"

She shakes her head and after giving her boys a once over, rushes over to you and glomps you in a ferocious hug. You sheath your sword and hug her back. Alicent, the ruiner of moments, chimes in. "What are you doing here? At this hour of night of all things?"

You roll your eyes. "Am i no longer allowed to visit my favourite Aunt and cousins in my own castle now? I was simply feeling homesick and wished to visit. Losing my brother after my uncle killed him made me wish for the comfort of my dear sweet aunt." While your tone is sarcastic at times the gaze you give Helaena makes her smile. You smile back as she cups your cheeks and kisses your forehead. "I am glad your here, my precious niece. Thank you for saving us"

"You are very welcome. I glad i arrived when i did."

"What in the seven hells is going on here?!?!" A voice behind you booms. You whip around and see you Uncle Aegon, face pale and for once seemingly sober. His face goes between you and Helaena, the bodies and blood on the floor, and the children behind you in the arms of their grandmother, almost like he isnt sure where to draw his focus. "Well?!? Im waiting for someone to answer me!" He shouts frantic.

"Be calm Uncle. All is well now i promise. The short version is, i followed Uncle Daemon here, fearing he would do something we would all regret. Turns out i was right and i stopped these two from bringing harm on your children." You explain. As Aegon moves to respond you silence him quickly before continuing. "No. My mother did not order this. No she does not know that i nor Daemon have left. This is all Daemon, and he most likely targeted the children because he knew he wouldnt be able to get to Aemond. If you wish you place blame? It is Aemond who has brought about this wrath."

The king is silent for a long moment. He looks between his mother and sister-wife. "Is what (Name) saying true? Are you arnd the children unharmed." The tenderness in his voice shocks you. Never having seen this side of him before. You also realise this is the first he has ever said you name, much less with that tone of voice. What shocks you more is the response the Alicent gives in turn.

"Yes, Aegon. It is, i dont know what wouldve happened had the Princess not followed her gut... had she not been here to help us..." Aegon acknowledges her words and looks at your directly in the eyes.

"Thank you Niece... you have served our house faithfully with your valour and bravery." You give a curt nod and bow.

"Of course. Though i believe that is time for bed, that is more an enough excitement for one night. Should you wish it i shall stand guard in front of the queens chambers, i think it best they all spend the night together." You respond cooly, a formal air now surrounding you. The king nod and looks to his queen to gauge her reaction. She nods and give your hand a squeeze as she ushers the kids out, avoiding the bloodied areas of the room. You follow after her but Aegon stops you. Gripping your forearm tight.

"(Name)... Thank you. I mean it." He whispers.

Placing you hand on his you whisper back "As much as i may hate you for everything you have done. As much as you may hate me and my brothers... you are still part of my family. I do not wish to see it burn. I know my mother doesnt want that either. I want you to know that too. We use to be close once... im sure their is still a way to fix it. But we shall talk about it in the morning when things have settled. You should be with Helaena and the children, i will protect you. I swear this on the love i hold for our family."

You think you catch a glimmer of tears in his eyes at the end of your little speech. But it is quickly brushed passed as he and you make your way to Helaena's quarters. You stand guard for the remainder of the night, the events of earlier replaying in your head. You close your eyes and breathe a prayer to anyone listening.

Please, let my family make it through this in one piece.

---

Taglist: @tssf-imagines @accidentpronedork

[benjinotes]

save me team black man. SAVE ME.

[spider-stark]

LADY STRONG

Benjicot Blackwood x Velaryon/Strong!Reader

Summary - Stuck in the Riverland's on a marriage tour, you pretend to be Lady Strong when Benjicot Blackwood doesn't recognize you as the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms

Warnings - none except not edited!!

Word Count - 3.1k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

As if the prospect of a marriage tour was not horrid enough, your first stop was proving to be positively dreadful.  

You had imagined the lands surrounding the Trident to be beautiful. A lush, verdant landscape—filled with fragrant herbs and bright, blooming flowers, painting the Riverlands in rich, colorful hues. You pictured babbling streams and plush grass, stunning castles and, perhaps, some equally as stunning men.  

What you hadn’t imagined, however, was the weather.  

Even from within the confines of Riverrun—the ancestral castle of House Tully—you still feel the effects of the merciless heat beating down upon the sandstone walls.  

Your handmaids had tried to dress you accordingly, stuffing you into your thinnest—and, consequently, your least regal—gown, in hopes that it might prevent sunstroke. Yet still, even as three of Lord Tully’s own servants try fanning you while you sulk in the dining hall, you feel as though every inch of your body is drenched in sticky sweat.  

“This is miserable,” you groan to Ser Lorent, the Kingsguard who had been assigned to your tour. Flanking your right, you spare the knight a pitiful, sidelong glance. “I believe I would sooner die a spinster than be forced to live in this sweltering purgatory!”  

The servants, haphazardly positioned around the table, remain utterly stone-faced, not letting on if they found your comment about their homelands to be humorous or offensive.  

Ser Lorent merely laughs. “The Riverlands are known for their humid summers, princess.” With a wink, he adds, “If you ever bothered with your studies, you would know this.”  

“I study!”  

“With the blade, perhaps,” Ser Lorent muses, his teal eyes twinkling with lighthearted mockery. “But certainly not with books, princess.  

Rolling your eyes, you slump further into your chair, your body practically melting into the upholstery. “Leave the geography lessons to Jace,” you tell him, waving an idle hand. “After all, he's the heir to the Iron Throne. I am merely the prized broodmare—” focusing on your plate, and the half-eaten lunch upon it, you try swallowing the bitter tang now filling your mouth—“a royal womb to be sold off to the highest bidder.”  

And, at times, you aren’t even sure if that is considered an honest truth… You’ve certainly never felt royal.  

Like your brothers, you were born extraordinarily plain-featured. With no silver hair or lilac eyes, you appear more like a common-born peasant than someone of prized Valyrian stock—and it didn’t help that, unlike your brothers, you had no dragon, either.  

Ser Lorent watches as you absently push a piece of seared cod around your plate, sighing. “That isn’t true, my princess.” His words are tinged with sympathy. “You are being sold to no one. Your mother wishes for you to have a marriage born of love—not duty.”  

“Ah, yes,” stabbing the fish with the prongs of your fork, you bring it to your lips, “which is why I’m being forced to spend my summer meeting with the haughty sons of fat country lords—for love.”  

His tongue clicks with disapproval. “Your mother has given you a choice in selecting your own husband, princess; which is a luxury not granted to many women.”  

Frowning, you pop the piece of fish into your mouth, turning his words over in your head.  

Gods.  

You hate it when he’s right.  

“Fine,” you relent, still chewing. Turning sideways in your chair, you raise your fork to him in a mock threat, “But my earlier statement stands! If I must take a husband, then it certainly won’t be anyone from here—lest I become no more than a puddle of sweat.”  

Ser Lorent cracks a smile at you. “Should you turn to a puddle, princess, then I vow to mop you from the floor.”  

“How valiant of you, Ser Lorent,” you laugh. “I’m unsure of how I might ever repay you for such loyalty.”  

“I’m not sure you have to worry about that, princess—I don’t believe that puddles are much concerned with matters of debt.”  

Turning back to the table, another soft laugh spills from your lips. “I suppose you’re right, Ser.”  

All too soon, however, your amusement begins to fade. A warm breeze blows in through the many open windows lining Riverrun’s dining hall, the stifling air only accentuating the stickiness of your skin.  

Sucking in a deep, heavy breath, you ask, “How long do we have?”  

Ser Lorent doesn’t ask for clarification, knowing almost at once what you were asking him. “We’re expected back in the Great Hall in a little under an hour, princess.”  

You blow the breath out, groaning slightly.  

An hour—that's all the time you had left before you would be forced back upon the dais, expected to once again smile and be cordial as men and boys from all across the Riverlands made their case for your hand.  

How many of them could possibly be left? This morning alone you had met with dozens upon dozens of them, their voices all blurring into a monotonous hum as they spoke of the history of their Houses—if one can consider nonsensical legends from the ancient Age of Heroes as true history, that is.  

Noticing the dreadful pall cast over you, Ser Lorent clamps a comforting hand on your shoulder. “How about a walk before we go back? It might help to clear your head,” he suggests. Then, with a wry grin, “Perhaps you might wish to think back on the men from this morning—see if any of them might make you change your tune about life in the Riverlands.”  

You pin him with a playful scowl. “There’s not a man alive that could change that tune,” you vow. “But you’re right—a walk might be nice.”  

Rising from your seat, the servants around you lower their fans, silently dismissing themselves.  

“Will you be accepting my company on this walk?” Ser Lorent teases—though you know what he’s really asking is: will you be accepting my protection.  

“After this morning, I believe I’ve had enough company for a lifetime.”  

The knight’s brow draws tight, an apprehensive frown beginning to pull at the corners of his lips. You roll your eyes.  

“Oh, don’t worry so much, Ser Lorent. It gives you wrinkles,” you tease. Adjusting the slit running along one side of your dress, you reveal the dagger holstered on your thigh. “I assure you that if any of these Riverlanders dare lay a hand on me, they’ll lose some fingers.”  

Ser Lorent snorts, head shaking. “It’s not you I worry about, princess,” he jokingly admits. “Just stay close by, understand? Your mother will have my head if anything happens to you.”  

“Yes, yes—understood,” you dramatically gripe, already walking past him to the exit.  

“Oh, and princess?” He calls out just as the guards pull the doors open for you to leave. You glance over your shoulder at him, brows lifted. “At least try not to injure anyone.”  

With one last roll of your eyes, bright with mischief, you shout on your way out, “No promises, Ser Lorent!”  

Wandering through the outer yards of Riverrun, the blistering sun beating down upon your skin, you find yourself overwhelmed by a sudden ache in your chest.  

You miss home. Desperately.  

You miss Dragonstone’s near-constant cover of clouds, forever shielding you from the heat. You miss the cool breeze rolling in off the Blackwater, the air peppering your cheeks with salty kisses.  

But even as you dream of a reprieve from the muggy Riverlands, you can’t help but miss your family—your brothers—most of all.  

Perhaps it is that feeling that led you here, to the training yard, guided by the familiar lull of splintering wood and steel slicing through the air, the sound offering a much-needed remedy to the homesickness twisting in your gut.  

Smaller than the one at Dragonstone, Riverrun’s yard was no more than a cramped stretch of dusty-dirt, lined with old training dummies and archery targets. Mostly encircled by the towering sun-bleached stones of the castles, only a small part of the yard remained open to the sprawling gardens beyond, sectioned off by ornate iron fencing.  

Striding over the open gate, your attention falls upon the lone boy standing in the yard's center.  

As the sunlight beats down overhead, long shadows dance around his feet as he glides through a set of movements—each step calculated, every strike deliberate.  

You step closer, keeping your steps light as you approach. With his back turned to you, you watch as sweat drips down his neck, glistening. It soaks into his tunic, the thin black material clinging to his lean, muscled back.  

He’s talented—you think, studying his form.  

Talent is something you're familiar with—intimately. You were raised around warriors—trained by the Rogue Prince himself. Yet never before had you found yourself so utterly bewitched by a fighter.  

He didn’t move like other boys.  

He wasted no time on the flowery style displayed by so many summer children—the ones who thought of battle as a performance rather than a matter of life or death.  

Instead, he moved with the lethal prowess of an apex predator—his blade cutting through the air with a controlled ferocity that, while lacking the flourish of other warriors, was undeniably impressive.  

Dirt flies as he throws himself into another set of movements—a series of strikes and parries, executing with unbelievable precision. With every twist and pivot, muscles tense and shift beneath his tunic, his body as powerful a weapon as his sword.  

He lunges forward—and wood cracks! as he slashes his blade along the belly of one of the dummies, a move that would have disemboweled a living opponent.  

Cutting through the sudden stillness, you bring your hands up to your chest, filling the yard with a slow clap. Back still turned to you, the boy's spine goes ramrod straight at the unexpected sound.  

“Impressive,” you muse, taking another step towards him. Mere feet remain between the two of you, now. “You move well—better than most, I’d say.”  

The boy spins around to face you, his once elegant movements now blundering as he nearly trips over his own feet. Biting your tongue, you try to hold in a laugh.  

Big, storm-cloud eyes meet your gaze, pinning you in place as he blinks, visibly thrown-off by your presence. “Sorry-” he stammers, out of breath. “I didn’t think anyone else would be coming out here-”  

You lift a hand, cutting him off with a smile. “Oh, no—don’t apologize on my account! I enjoyed the show,” you tell him. “Seems that you have a real talent for swordplay.”  

His cheeks flush, his lightly sun-kissed skin turning a stark crimson. “Thanks.” His laugh is a nervous, awkward thing—endearing, too. He sticks a hand out towards you, the other still limply holding his sword. “Benjicot. Blackwood,” he introduces himself, fumbling over his words, “but you can call me Ben or Benji—or anything, really.”  

You take his hand, biting your lip to mask your amusement. “Pleasure to meet you, Benji.”  

A beat of silence passes before confusion finally tugs at his features, his hand falling back to his side. “Uhm—” another sweet, awkward laugh— “and you are…?”  

Realization dawns on you, leaving your brows to shoot up to your hairline.  

Seven Hells. He doesn't know, does he?

A sudden speechlessness grabs hold of your tongue.  

You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised—after all, you aren't what many expected of a Targaryen princess.

Plain-featured and dressed in thin, common clothes, you imagine you likely appear no different than the servants surrounding you at lunch, fanning you to keep the heat from going to your head.  

Even so, it's rare that you met someone who doesn't know who you are. And, selfishly, after a morning filled with insincere compliments from haughty Lord’s, you like the idea of remaining nameless—titleless—for the first time in your life.  

“Wow—sorry—that was thoughtless of me, wasn’t it?” Tapping a finger to your temple, you laugh. “I’m Mylissa,” you lie, stealing the name of one of your handmaidens. “Mylissa Strong.”  

“Strong?” He echoes, brow furrowing. “Strange—you don’t sound like you’re from the Riverlands. Your accent is—”  

“Southern?”  

Benji nods.  

“Well, I’ve spent the better part of my life in the Crownlands, so I suppose I’ve picked up their accent,” you explain. “I’m here with the princess, actually—as her lady-in-waiting.”  

The mention of the princess—you—turns his skin a pasty white.  

Keeping a tight leash on your curiosity, you try not to sound too intrigued when you ask, “And what about you? Raventree Hall is a decent ride from here, is it not?” On horseback, the ancestral seat of House Blackwood was two days away from Riverrun, if not three. “Are you here to meet with the princess?”  

Benji shifts his weight, leaning from one foot to the other. “Supposed to,” he begins, his words tumbling out, “but I don’t know—I’m not so sure that I’ll go through with it.”  

Your expression falters, disappointment washing over you like a cold wave, combatting the intolerable warmth of the sun.  

“Why not?”  

He shrugs—a timid, shy gesture that feels so unlike the predator you had snuck up on. “There are over a hundred men in there,” he waves an arm to the castle, to the Great Hall within, “all waiting for an opportunity to impress the princess—meanwhile, I can hardly get out a single sentence without choking on my own spit.”  

Your laughter bubbles up involuntarily, a few giggles spilling past your lips. The Blackwood boy shoots you a playful glare from beneath long, dark lashes.  

“Well,” you begin, absentmindedly toeing the dirt between you, “perhaps the princess might find it endearing, don’t you think?”  

Benji scoffs. “Doubtful. I mean, think about it!—she’s a princess!”  

Your eyes widen, glimmering with mock-offense. “And what is that supposed to mean?”  

Once again, that crimson tinge returns to his skin, crawling up his neck, this time.  

“I meant no offense,” he defends himself, mistaking your expression for one of a Lady meaning to defend her princess. “But what could I possibly offer a princess?”  

You tilt your head, pretending to think on his words. “Well, the Blackwoods do have a history of being valiant warriors, do they not? And you seem to be quite skilled yourself,” you say, daring to let your stare drift down to his arms, the short sleeves of his tunic revealing well-muscled, sweat-slick biceps.  

He snorts. “I’m willing to guess that the princess would likely care naught for my skill with a sword.”  

“Then you would guess wrong,” you retort, a faint, teasing smile on your lips. “Many say that the princess herself is quite skilled with a blade—I imagine she would quite like a boy that’s capable of challenging her.”  

Benji’s eyes darken a shade, an unreadable expression crossing his features. “And what about you, Mylissa?”  

The false name catches you off-guard, but you do your best to hide it.  

“What of me?”  

A bit nervous, he asks, “Would you like a boy that can challenge you?”  

Your heart stutters in your chest—skipping several beats as his stare lowers, dipping past your waist and falling upon your thigh. On the dagger sheathed there, no doubt.  

Heat begins to crawl up your neck, hotter even than the sun's blistering rays. “Oh—” You stutter, words lost upon you.  

It’s true that you were used to the attention of men. After all, your morning has been filled with it, and soon enough the rest of your day will be, too.  

But this was different.  

Benji wasn’t giving you attention because you’re a princess, a mere royal womb to strengthen his House’s bloodline. Rather, he was doing it simply because he wanted to—a feeling that was utterly foreign to you.  

Wiping a clammy hand on his sweaty tunic, Benji misreads your silence, taking a half-step back. “Apologies, my Lady—that was too forward and-”  

You don’t let him finish his rambling. Taking a step forward, you close the gap he sought to create between you. “I’ll make you a deal.”  

“A deal?”  

You nod. “As you know, the princess will be in the Great Hall for the rest of the evening, holding court with the other Lord’s who’ve come for her hand. I'd like for you to meet with her.”  

Benji cocks his head, confusion crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I truly mean no disrespect to your princess, my Lady, but I was asking if you might be interested in–”  

“I know what you’re asking, Benji.” You lift one shoulder in a casual shrug. “And after you meet with the princess, if you still wish to inquire about my hand,” you say, placing a palm to your chest, “then I will happily hear you out.”  

In the distance, a bell sounds out—signaling the time, you realize.  

“If you’ll excuse me,” you start, already taking a few small half-steps backwards. “I’m expected inside.”  

Letting his sword drop to the ground, Benji lunges forward to catch your wrist. “So you agree to meet with me after court, then?”  

“If you’re still interested,” you muse, a tinge of anxiety laced through your tone, “then yes.”  

The corners of his lips twitch into a bashful smile. “I give you my word that–”  

You planned to interrupt him. To tell him not to make oaths he wasn’t certain he could keep, knowing that he may very well change his mind about you once he realizes who you are—that you’re not technically a Strong. But, before you can, another voice intervenes.  

“Princess!” Ser Lorent calls out, exasperated, as he walks through the gate. “We must hurry, princess,” he continues, pausing only to give a wary glance at Benji’s hands wrapped around your wrist. “We’re late.”  

Your pulse begins to pound, a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins at being exposed as a liar by Ser Lorent. 

Benji’s face goes blank—then his eyes go wide, big as saucers as you snag your wrist from his grip.  

“Princess...” He utters, voice laden with disbelief. “Princess?!”  

You can hardly bring yourself to do anything other than grin stupidly at him, nearly stumbling over yourself as you back-up to where Ser Lorent is waiting impatiently.  

“It was lovely meeting you, Benji!”  

You hope he can hear just how genuine your words are.  

“I’ll see you in the Great Hall,” you call out over your shoulder, sparing him one last glance as Ser Lorent guides you to the gate, watching as he blinks in astonishment, still processing the revelation.  

Walking back towards the inner-castle, Ser Lorent glances down at you with a knowing look. “You seem giddy.” There’s a teasing glint to his words that makes you roll your eyes, cheeks flushing. “So,” he continues, his brisk pace never faltering, “does this mean that your statement from lunch no longer stands? That, perhaps, this sweltering purgatory may yet grow on you?”  

You bite your cheek, a permanent grin still etched onto your face.  

“Let’s just say that I’ve decided it’s best to keep my options open, Ser Lorent.”  

a/n - you may ask yourself: lainie, why would you refer to him as mostly BEN in the last fic and BENJI in this one??

and the answer? I have not ONE clue. my brain is rotting and benji is cute.

anyways, hope you guys enjoy this one! feel like I got to explore more of his personality here. additionally, I need HBO to know that if this boy ends up not being benjicot blackwood then I'm gonna fucking riot

benjicot blackwood tag list - @a-song-for-ages @ghostinvenus

[princessbellecerise]

Unlikely Places

Summary ✩ The unusual place your hotd lover likes to fuck you

Warnings ✩ Smut, straight up blasphemy (Aegon), semi-public sex

Jacaerys Velaryon

As the King, it’s not exactly wrong for the two of you to do it, but it does feel taboo every time you ride him on the Iron Throne

Every time you climbed on his lap, mindful of all the sharp points and swords, you couldn’t help but think that you’re breaking some kind of rule that doesn’t exist. After all, Jacaerys is the King and technically it is his seat. As the most powerful man in the realm, there’s no one for you to answer to after doing such an act but it certainly feels like you should

The first time that he asked you to do it, you thought that he was crazy. It was so unlike Jacaerys to do something so…risky, that you genuinely thought it was a prank at first

Only when realized you that your husband was completely serious did you really start to consider it

And you had to admit, the rush of power that you got as you bounced on your husband’s cock, riding the most powerful man in the most powerful seat in the realm was nothing like you’d ever experienced before

It quickly became your guilty pleasure to do so, never minding when Jacaerys summoned you to the throne room at such late hours

For you knew what awaited you when you climbed those steps, and each time you were filled with delicious anticipation to do it all over again

Aemond Targaryen

Ever since he was a child, Aemond had been absolutely fascinated by dragons

His obsession with those beasts was almost unnatural as his mother used to say, and you were quite inclined to agree as one day, Aemond tried to convince you to let him fuck you on top of Vhagar

Of course, the request had been so ridiculous that you genuinely thought your husband to be ill at first, maybe having contracted some disease during his many travels

Only when you saw Aemond’s confident smirk did you realize that it was indeed not a jest, and your husband really did want you to ride him on top of a fucking dragon

So there you were, thousands of feet in the air and praying that you didn’t fall as you straddled Aemond’s lap

You held onto him tight as your cunt sank down, your hips moving with his in the large saddle

Every kiss, every touch was concealed within the clouds, Vhagar flying steady while you rode your husband. The sound of her wings masked the pathetic way you cried for Aemond, filthy praises and words of encouragement being whispered in your ears as you soared across the skies

Aegon Targaryen

Aegon figures that if he’s going to hell anyways, he may as well have a little fun in his mortal life

What’s life without a little risk anyways, he figures. This is why he has no problem fucking you in the Sept of Seven, having you on your knees, naked in front of the statue of the Mother

Instead of praying to her though, you worship him. You praise his cock and the way it makes you feel so good—better than praying, really

The absolute trill of someone coming in and getting caught is like no other. Sometimes, Aegon even hopes that you’ll be discovered��preferably by his mother or that cunt of Septa that’s always preaching about sin and virtue

He imagines their faces as he fucks you from behind, taunting you and making you look directly at the statue when you cum around him

Aegon’s never really believed in the Gods much, but the way your cunt feels wrapped around him is heavenly

And to him, there’s truly no greater tasting sin

Daemon Targaryen

Otto Hightower had once called Daemon brazen, irresponsible, violent, arrogant, reckless and a second Maegor

He supposed that it was true, but still, Otto Hightower was a cunt in Daemon’s mind, and the Prince would do anything to get back at him

…Including fucking in his bed

In Daemon’s very weak defense, he hasn’t meant to, really

When he pulled you in a for a kiss, intending to take you quickly before he had to attend a meeting later in the day, he hadn’t been paying attention to where he pulled you

He just wanted to feel you, to touch you before he had to leave for the day

And what do you know—the place that he ends up brining you to fufill your hurried tryst was the fucking Tower of the Hand

Neither of you realize it at first, too caught up in each other to notice the amount of green, grey and white around you

It isn’t until you stumble onto the actual bed, Daemon fumbling to get your clothing off do you finally look up and you’re greeted by a portrait of Otto fucking Hightower on the walls

Alarmed, you immediately tell Daemon and it takes only a second to realize where you’ve accidentally stumbled

Of course, Daemon thinks it’s hilarious and even if you want to leave, a little creeped out at the thought of being fucked on the same sheets the Hand of the King sleeps on, Daemon is entirely too thrilled to leave

Once the idea is in his brain, it won’t be going any time soon

A mischievous grin grows on your lover’s face, and somehow, Dameon convinces you to let him take on Otto’s clean, perfectly folded sheets, loving the way you mess them up with your messy fucking

Of course, he’ll just blame the servants for all the mess, but now every time he faces Otto there’s always a knowing smirk on Daemon’s face, smug that the Hand will never know the dirty things said and done on the very mattress he sleeps on

Cregan Stark

Cregan was the Lord of Winterfell, and because of that he was allowed to eat where he pleased, train where he pleased…and fuck where he pleased

It was this that he reminded you of as he took you in one of the hot springs the castle had to offer, water splashing as your husband’s hips thrust into yours

He had you on his lap, your tits pressed against his warm wet chest as you bounced on his cock

The both of you were well aware that this was a public place and that anyone could stumble upon you, but that only spurred you on more

Honestly, seeing your honorable and kind husband act so reckless was a turn on in itself, loving the way Cregan grunted and didn’t care who heard him

He was lost in the feel of your cunt and the warm water which only added to the sensations

Add that to the trill of getting caught, and neither of you really lasted long when you fucked in the springs

Still panting and filled with your husband’s seed, you grinned as you ran a hand through his tangled hair

“Another day without being caught,” You said, slightly disappointed

Cregan shrugged. “Well, maybe we’ll succeed next time.”

Benjicot Blackwood

“Ben, not here! Someone could see us!”

“Then let them see. Let those Bracken cunts see how a real man pleases his Lady wife,” Benji whispered, and you couldn’t even deny that fucking right on the Blackwood-Bracken boundary line didn’t bring a kind of fire to your veins that you craved

Your lover had always been more shy and sweet than anything else, but you knew just how deep his hatred for the Brackens ran when he threw all of that away and fucked you so close to their territory

Deep, satisfactory moans left his lips as he rutted into you, the thrill of getting caught edging you both on like no other

You pressed against Benji, panting as his cock drove in out of you and hit your sweet spots over and over

All you could think about, all you craved was cumming around your husband’s cock while his enemies watched; and you did

Benji was beyond proud of himself as you moaned and let the entirety of House Bracken know what was happening. Let them know how good he was making you feel

He felt bad for the wives of those smug cunts as surely they’d never know such pleasure, but at least Benji knew that you couldn’t relate

The Brackens could say whatever they wanted about his family, but at least the Blackwoods knew how to fuck

And who knows, if they were watching, then maybe they’d even learn a thing or two from Benji

tags 🏷️

@alyssa-dayne

[wyvernest]

tf you mean "cregan was supposed to appear in the season finale and his scene was cut" give me my husband now

[update]

[franzkafkagf]

this is what i mean when i say i want you to match my freak

[gotranting]

Are you Team Green or Team Black?

Love, I'm team characters that only get 5 minutes of screentime in the show

[skyrigel]

“Sweet nothing”

Pairing: Benjicot “davos” blackwood x fem!reader

Benji masterlist

Between war, blood and chaos, your husband founds himself running home to your sweet nothing.

Nsfw, Benji being a tease but absolutely feral for you, bath chamber hinted sex, kissing and biting, nudtidy, groping, consent is sexy, domesticated!ben, fancast! Benji.

“ Darling, did you miss me ? ” You opened your eyes to find your lord husband strolling in your bath chambers.

All the servants were walking out with their head bowed down and knowing closed smiles, Benji grinned when he caught your eye, before he trailed his gaze down at your naked body, drinking you in with a smug tug of his lips, rubbing his jaw.

“ I missed you.” you breathed, feeling your heart ache to touch him, to hold him, to breathe him in.

You were beginning to get out of water when Ben shaked his head, mouthing a 'love' before stripping off his clothes, one by one.

He was being torturous with the pace, he knew well how driven you were, your mouth agape as you saw him, so so long. He tossed his tunic, because teasing you was one of his greatest amusement, but then again, he was dying to be in your embrace and let everything mute in the background, and regardless to say how pretty you looked, like those sirens they talked about, luring him and he would, he would crawl and beg and plead and surrender, for you he was insane.

“ My lord.” you whispered, giving him that, ‘I'll never sleep with you again’ look and it only took a moment before he was stepping down in the bath, beaming.

His naked body disappearing in the mist of water, you followed his movements, his smile climbing to a grin as he reached you, taking your hand and pressing it to his chest. Beneath your palm his heart was beating for you, loud and rhythmic.

“ You have no idea how much I missed you.” you pressed a soft kiss on his chest, just near a bluish bruised wound. You hoped they were all dead, all of them who hurt him.

“ you can always give me a idea, don't you think my lady.” He pouted, sensing your worry as he lifted you chin with his finger tip, eyes sparkling with mischief, you pushed forward your hands to cup his face, needless to say about him. He was everywhere, cupping your ass cheeks to kneading your breast, pulling your waist as he placed sweet kisses all over, like a starved man and he was, a very starved man for your love, your affection, your body and all of your sweet nothings.

“ I missed this.” he bited at the crook your neck, you arched back, allowing more access.

“ And ? ” you asked because Benji liked that, liked knowing everything that swirled in your mind, to know what you thought about everything and nothing.

You couldn't see him as he was sliding down your body, open mouthed kisses all over your skin while you tugged at his soft hair, but you knew how stupidly he would have smiled.

“ And this.” he bumped his nose to your navel, looking up to meet your gaze.

“ Tell me more.” you whined, dropping your head back, Benji wrapped your legs around his waist, taking you out of the water as he laid you on the floor, climbing over you.

“ More ? ” He smiled, leaning to kiss your nose tip, then claiming your in hard embrace and clatter of souls, his lips soft and warm and sweet.

You were flushed under him, you didn't dare look between him and you because the hard length that pressed against your thigh was enough proof of how madly you drived him crazy.

Benji watched as your breath hiccuped in your throat, watching your heart swell and eyes dazed with lust, like blown back.

“say it my sweet love.” He was propped on his elbows on either side of your head, his own voice shaky, he wanted nothing less to dive inside you, take you all and leave nothing, to devour and to worship you. But he needed you to say it first. “c'mon sweetheart” He nuzzled his nose at the side of your neck, breathing in your scent, humming along.

“ yes...Ben.” you bited your lower lip as his shaft was leaking with pre cum, weakening your legs and the pressure in your pit grew, dazing your senses.

“ huh.” Ben perked up, relaxing in a smirk, pecking down your jaw as he raised one eyebrow, like he didn't listen. Bastard.

“ T-take me.” you demanded and pleaded and that was all he needed to hear, before his lips parted in a gasp, He's bloody going to moan every sweet nothing out of you. Oh, how sweet.

[bram-stoners]

oh he was itching to hold his hand

[multific]

His Bride

Davos Blackwood x Reader

Summary: A short piece about obsession, blood and love. What more do you need?

To be the bride of a Blackwood, you got to have something wrong with you.

To be willingly married to a man so crazy, so devoted and obsessed.

It was madness.

But anytime someone asked you for your reasons, man or woman, you always said the same thing.

"Imagine that devotion and craze when he loves. When he truly loves. He gives. And he gives much. You say he is insane. But I see a man willing to do anything for me. I see a man on his knees just to be in the same room as me. You say he will murder me and bleed me out, but the truth is he would never touch me anyway I do not want him to. You ask me how can I love someone so mad, and to that I say, he loves me. His love is deep, it's loyal and fierce. I know he would burn entire villages, and turn against any House or man just to have me. You say it is insanity, I say it is exactly what I want."

But the comments never stopped.

No matter what you have done. People didn't see him as a Lord, people saw him as a crazy child.

Any lady you have ever met always asks the same stupid question.

"How can you be happy about having him as your husband?" the faces the ladies make never helped your anger.

"You say he is crazy and yet you hide in your homes whenever he is near. You say he could never love, but he does, he loves me and he has me, fully. He has my heart, my mind and my body. In reality, it is you who are jealous of me. I have a husband who kills for me, without any hesitation. You truly never felt lust until you saw him behead another man simply because of the way he looked at me. And then, as the man's blood is still dripping from his lips, he kisses me."

To be the bride of a Blackwood, you got to have something wrong with you.

And you did.

You loved him.

House of the Dragon Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[divinesolas]

Fighting words

summary: one of the bracken boys has been hitting on you for days now and youre sick of it. He happens to take it too far with you and your best friend shows you a side of himself you’ve never seen. and you like it. a lot.

Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Cerwyn!reader | 1.3k wrds

c.w: probably very occ as we dont know like anything abt him in the show 😭😭, slightly smutty, takes place before any battles, not proofread

he wouldn’t leave my mind, so take this 😁

masterlist - requests are open!!

tags: @hxtd

“No. Leave me alone bracken.” you try to shove him away from you but the bracken boy just grins at you and leans closer into you.

“Oh come on cerwyn, i see how you look at me~” a scoff escapes your lips as you stare at him with disgust. “In your fucking dreams, seriously. Leave me alone.”

You didn’t even know this guys name but he had been bothering you for the last couple days. It had started out small with him trying to invite you to come drink with him and his friends to him offering to carry around your stuff for you when you were walking around.

“theyre arrows bracken.”

“so what? must be heavy for you youre a girl.”

He grossed you out. But didn’t matter even if he didn’t,

“she said no.”

The two of you turn to look at the new voice and a smile creeps up on your face. The bracken boy rolls his eyes as he glares, “the hell do you want blackwood.”

“she said no. Back off.”

youve been friends with the lord of house blackwood for since you were younger and hes always been so kind to you. It seemed to be obvious to everyone other than him that you were madly in love with the young lord but if he did notice he said nothing about it.

You knew of his, angry? or maybe a better word is his more aggressive behavior. You had never even seen it first hand but multiple people have told you first hand accounts of him losing his temper and blowing up, his normal calm and kind demeanor getting lost to rage and blind madness.

You did not know what to think about the rumors then but seeing the way his eyes twitched and his clenched jaw as he stared at the bracken boy the rumors about him became more and more believable.

The bracken boy stands and gets all up in bens face, “What are you gonna do about it huh?”

Ben tilts his head and a look you’ve never seen crosses his eyes as he glares. “Get the fuck out of my sight.” His voice is hard like youve never heard before and it has you holding your breath, waiting for the straining thread to snap.

And the thread snaps the second bracken pushes bens chest and laughs. “what? you upset this ugly bitch wants me more than you-“ It happens before you know it and suddenly the two guys are on the floor and everyone in the room jumps up to look.

you freeze. What in the hells are you supposed to do? so you merely watch as the two boys beat the fuck out of each other. Ben pulls ahead at some point and manages to get a few more punches in after pinning the guy down until the two are pulled apart.

“never talk about her like that, no. never talk to her again or else ill fucking kill you.” He thrashes around in the arms of the two blackwood lads that hold him back as he continues to spit insults at the bracken boy as he gets dragged off and out of the space.

Your legs move before you can even think and your standing in front of him, he freezes and blinks at you rapidly. Hes covered in blood, you cant tell which is his and which is the other guys but he looks badly hurt.

He had done it for you. In your name. And you could barely take how hot you felt but he needed you. “i have supplies in my tent let me fix you up.” the boys oooo’d and ben barely acknowledges them as he nods and allows you to drag him off to your tent.

The boys call after you two with some unsavory choice words but you just turn and flip them off before you continue to help ben to your tent. You place him on your bed cot and try to ignore the racing of your heart as he stays quiet, merely looking at you.

Hes usually quiet but not around you. Its odd to see him like this. So you shakily rummage around with the stuff in your chest as you nervously begin to talk. “thank you for stepping in i was really nervous he wasn’t going to leave me alone, you didn’t meed to-“ you gasp as your spun around and lips lock onto yours with fever.

One of his hands reach behind you and push all your stuff off your table, lifting up you up to sit on it while he kisses you. You gasp against his lips and he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth.

Your head is spinning. You can taste the metallic taste of his blood seep into your mouth and it laces its way into your kiss. You fear you’re dreaming. You felt asleep on watch shift again and when you wake this will all just be a dream.

Yet when you grip your hand against his waist he pulls away and winces. You are pulled back to reality and try to pull away to grab your medical supplies that now are all spilled all over the floor but he quickly stops you.

“ben you’re hurt.” “i dont care.” He tries to kiss you again but you dodge it and grip his face in your hands. “ben,” His hand slide around your waist and play with the fabric of your tunic, testing the waters and sliding his hands lower and almost under the tunic you wear. “ben.” you say firmer and he pauses to look at you.

“right now i just need to feel your skin, please.” your heart pounds loudly against your chest and your mouth drops open. “ben,” his name shakily passes your lips and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “How dare he talk to you like that. i should have killed him,” his hands slide under your tunic his hot hands run up and down your bare sides slowly. “he should know i take no disrespect to the future lady of blackwood.”

You kiss him unable to take it anymore and he meets your fever eagerly. arms wrapping around you and pulling you so your chest to chest and you can feel him pressing against your trousers.

His lips trail down your jaw as his hands find your breasts and you let out a moan as he squeezes them in his hands. His lips your neck and he sucks at any skin he can get while he grinds his hips against yours. His hands grow more feverish as he uses his teeth to pull down your tunic to expose more of your collarbone and neck, youre sure to be covered in bruises tomorrow but you cant be bothered with that.

One of his hands trails down your stomach and almost gets to reach under your pants until a horn sounds outside and you both look at each other alarmed.

“ugh fuck me.” “wish i could.” you slap him on the chest as he pulls away and he hisses.

“that hurts.” “if you had let me patch you up it wouldn’t be hurting you idiot.” “you certain didn’t look like you were going to complain. not when i was about to-“ “okay! lets go they need us.” you ignore the sound of his laughter as you flap open your tent and rush out leaving him behind, hoping you look presentable enough your men dont ask questions and pray you can continue what you were doing with ben later.

[benjinotes]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝

request: hi, can you do one shot of jealous, Benji? One of the Black's allies tries to flirt with her, maybe

pairings: benjicot blackwood x fem (bracken) reader

warnings: jealousy, little spicy, a little angst w//happy ending, mentions of violence and blood.

ask me for permission before translating

Benjicot Blackwood should hate you, despise you even.

Your homes fueled an animosity that went back generations, rooted in ancient disputes and rivalries, and the hatred he harbored for you was so intense and overwhelming that it infiltrated every thought, every action, and every cell in his body.

That burning resentment consumed his soul in such a way that he almost couldn't remember anything else when he was with you, as if his very existence had been eclipsed by your presence.

But despite this deep hatred, there was something inexplicable and profound that pulled him towards you-an irresistible force that he could not understand.

Each small encounter, no matter how full of hostility and provocation, revealed a complexity of emotions that went beyond the pure aversion felt by any of your ancestors toward each other.

And the fine line between love and hate began to blur; Benjicot found himself increasingly lost in this tangle of conflicting and bewildering feelings, now completely unable to ignore the disturbing fascination that you held over him.

Watching from afar as you spoke to Cregan Stark, he fixed his burning gaze in your direction. The expression on his face was a mixture of anger and a little sadness, which only increased as you approached Cregan or smiled in his direction. He was hating it; he wanted so badly to stop that interaction, and his veins burned for him to do so.

However, Benjicot was aware that he could not act hastily, especially in the presence of practically the entire court and Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen's loyal allies who occupied that room. Furthermore, the presence of your brother, positioned behind you, did not help at all; he watched him with an arched eyebrow and a wry smile, an expression that Benji felt an almost irresistible impulse to confront with a punch.

Yet, he contained himself, being aware of the consequences that his actions could have in that place, and turned his angry gaze from your direction to one of the nobles who were next to him while trying to hide the wave of jealousy that was boiling inside him. The feeling of you being so close to another man who wasn't his made him nervous and uncomfortable, and he could already start to feel the collar of your tunic tightening his neck.

But he wanted to beat Cregan Stark; damn it, he wanted to rub Lord Stark's face in the ground just for the simple fact that the man thought he was worthy enough to even talk to you.

No one was worthy enough of you, not even himself.

"Are you alright?" Benji heard his aunt's voice filled with concern, but he just nodded, ignoring the shards of glass embedded in his hands from his tight grip on the wine glass.

She simply nodded, he could notice her eyes showing distrust, as she turned her attention to the lords of House Royce in a conversation that Benji honestly made no attempt to hear.

He returned to observing you with a forced seriousness, trying to ignore the pain from the cuts on his hands caused by the broken glass.

However, the pain he felt physically was quickly replaced by another overwhelming feeling of jealousy and sadness as he realized that now you were not only talking like before with Lord Stark but also smiling in the other man's direction, with such a soft and gentle smile, and that made his heart stop for a moment.

That wasn't fair. You had ignored him for days and now here you were smiling at another man in a way you had never smiled at him, and in such a genuine and sweet way that he didn't know whether to knock Lord Stark for being the person you were heading, or thanked him for giving him the chance to see you smile like that.

But one thing was certain: Benji couldn't bear this any longer, and when he saw you get up from the table and walk through the wooden door, he stood up from the table abruptly and followed you without hesitation, ignoring the questioning look from his aunt and the curious looks of the other lords at the table. His heart pounded with every step closer to you.

He knew it was a rash attitude, but he couldn't control it, not when he was in battles or when it came to you.

Benjicot's footsteps echoed audibly as he approached you, and with that, you turned back, surprised to find Benji's brown eyes looking at you with something so different from the other times.

His eyes, unlike other times, seemed to carry a mixture of hurt and confusion as they looked towards yours, which showed a hint of regret.

However, you just straightened your back, ignoring the feeling that was now running through your veins, and looked at him with superiority—a superiority that would have made him laugh if it weren't for these circumstances. "What do you want, Blackwood?" You asked sourly, but despite that, he seemed to lean towards the sound of the voice he hadn't heard lately.

You were expecting a teasing response the moment Benji seemed to stretch your back; however, nothing prepared you for what he was about to say. "Why are you ignoring me?" He asked softly, but you could hear a sour tone in the middle of it. After all, Benjicot never managed to be sweet without a little bitterness.

"What?"

He moved closer to you, and every step Benjicot took towards you was another step you took back, but he didn't stop; he didn't stop until you were cradled between his arms and the cold marble of the halls of that palace.

"I asked." He began, his voice soft and rough at the same time as he tilted his face closer to yours. "Why are you ignoring me?" He repeated it again, and this time he seemed a little angry as he looked at you, who remained silent as you looked into his eyes.

‘Why are you ignoring me?’

You didn't know; maybe it was because you were fed up with his lame jokes; maybe it was because of how rich your houses were; or maybe it was the simple fact that you hated him so much that you could barely breathe properly when you looked at his direction. In either way, you didn't know.

"Hmm?" He asked in a low voice, tilting his head even more in your direction and making your breaths mix in the short space that separated you. He was close—too close.

And you wanted him, even more closer.

"You're not going to ans — ?" Benjicot started, but before he could finish the sentence, you smashed his lips, covering them with your own, and making him gasp in surprise but quickly returning the kiss with the same intensity and strength.

When you pulled him firmly by the neck, bringing him closer, you felt his smile against your mouth, accompanied by a squeeze on your waist that made you gasp in surprise, and Benji, taking advantage of your reaction, inserted his tongue into your mouth, intensifying the kiss even more. 

You knew you shouldn't be doing this; it was wrong; it was completely wrong; your homes were enemies and your families hated each other, but the kisses that Benji now left on your neck made you forget about that and focus on the good part of the hate, in the intense and pleasurable part of the hate you both had for each other.

"I don't want you to go near Lord Stark again, ok?" He murmured while placing small kisses on the part of your bust that was exposed; the blood he had on his hands now marked your clothed waist, and you breathed dizzily, too disconcerted to be able to form a concrete word.

That was good, so good.

"Excellent." Benji murmured, lifting his head again, giving a smile when he noticed your red cheeks and swollen lips, and leaving one last kiss on your lips.

He might not make you smile like that, but this sure felt a lot better.

— my first one-shot, honestly i still don’t know how to feel about this, but i hope you enjoy!!

— english is not my first language, so please be respectful.

— benjicot blackwood fic.

tag: @h-0-error

[spider-stark]

SWORN RIVALS

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!Reader

Summary - Taking up sparring with your sworn rival is likely never a good idea.

Warnings - barely edited, blood, implied fighting, suggestive language but no real smut, likely ooc given that the episode hasn't even aired yet lmao

Word Count - 1.1k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Pain splinters throughout your hand as your knuckles collide with his jaw. He stumbles backwards—just barely managing to keep himself from falling right onto his ass. 

“You fight like a girl,” you jeer, purposefully antagonizing him. “Though I suppose that’s to be expected of a Blackwood.” 

A raspy laugh rumbles through Benjicot Blackwood’s chest—a bitter, deep sound that sets your toes curling. 

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you.” Forcing his chin high, he flashes his crimson-stained teeth in a wry grin, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He muses, “But perhaps we should put it to better use, don’t you think?” 

You cut your eyes at the bawdy implication. “You’re disgusting, Ben.” 

Another chuckle as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, inadvertently smearing blood along his bottom lip. The sight is entrancing—in a morbid sort of way. It glistens like pomegranate juice and, for a mere breath, you wonder if it would taste half as sweet. 

“C’mon!” Ben’s teasing tone slices through your thoughts, forcing some sense back into you. “Don’t act like you’ve never thought of it before,” he says, waving a hand between you both, “the two of us–” 

You don’t let him finish his sentence, cutting him off with a sharp glare. “I haven’t,” you practically snarl, taking a half-step towards him. “And you shouldn’t either,” you add, “I’d much prefer to be left out of your…" you blow out an exasperated breath, "depraved fantasies!” 

“Oh, but you are my depraved fantasies, sweetheart.” Ben’s grin widens as you groan, shaking your head at him. “You're also a liar, Bracken,” he adds, “and a shitty one, at that!” 

“You can believe whatever you want, Blackwood—but that won't make it true.” 

“Just admit it,” he continues. Swinging one foot forward, he takes a lazy step towards you—then another. “That’s why you train with me, isn’t it? ‘Cause you’re so desperate for someone to put you in your place—and none of those pansies along the Red Fork are fit for the task, are they?” 

You grit your teeth, knowing that his words aren’t entirely false. 

Training with Ben hadn’t necessarily been a purposeful decision. It was something that just sort of happened. Yet, in spite of the rivalry between your families, you’re willing to admit that you do prefer training with him over the Tully or Roote boys. 

He fought you like a true opponent—unlike the others, who felt the need to pull their punches or slow their own strikes, forever treating you like a helpless maiden rather than an equal. 

In many ways, you found Ben to be more tolerable than any other boy in the Riverlands, anyway. He was fierce and tough and undeniably skilled with both blade and fists, making him your ideal sparring partner. 

You still despise him, though—if only because that is what’s expected of you by your father, the Head of House Bracken. 

“Big talk from the boy who hasn’t gotten a single hit in today,” you smugly remind him. “Perhaps if you spent as much time training as you do thinking with your cock, you might actually stand a chance at victory, Benji.” 

Less than a foot-or-so of space separates the two of you when he finally stops, his grin souring like rotted fruit. 

“Don’t call me that,” he chides, his bottom lip jutting slightly. Your brow furrows, trying to discern if he’s pouting or if it’s simply swelling from when you hit him. “Besides,” Ben continues, “have you ever considered that maybe I’m just going easy on you?” 

You don’t buy his weak attempt at goading you—though you do entertain it, asking, “And why would you do that?” 

His shoulder lifts into a languid shrug. “Maybe I like it when you push me around,” he drawls, teasing. 

Another step and he’s towering over you, his chest mere inches from yours. His scent—a blend of leather and rich sandalwood—floods your nostrils, stirring your senses and leaving you dizzy. 

“Although,” Ben’s smirk returns, laden with his usual mischief, “I think I’d like you even more if you were on your knees-” 

A scoff rips from your throat, cutting him off with a rough swat to his chest. “Oh, go fuck yourself, Blackwood!” 

“Only if you’ll watch, Bracken,” he croons, mocking you. 

Every inch of your body is suddenly humming to life, an unrelenting blaze of rage—or was it desire?—setting your nerves alight. Before you can muster a response, a comeback, his fingers have closed around one of your wrists. 

“Go on,” Ben murmurs, his voice tantalizingly low. Your breath hitches as he presses your hand to his chest, feeling his pulse beat beneath your palm. “Hit me,” he dares, louder now. “Push me.” 

You don’t speak—don’t move, as those storm-cloud eyes dip once again. “Fucking do it—” 

You cut him off, fingers curling around the scarlet fabric of his tunic—you should kill him for being so crude, for acting so utterly lascivious! 

And yet, despite all logic and reason, you tug him closer. Pulling him down to your level in one swift motion, crashing your lips together in a kiss that is anything but soft. 

On instinct, your other hand slips to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in soft, brown hair. You feel his heartbeat stutter beneath your fist, still gripping his tunic. For no more than a breath, you worry you’ve fucked this whole thing up. 

This is wrong! You scream at yourself. Wrong wrong wrong! 

But then he moves—hooking an arm around your waist, his nails sinking into your hip in an effort to bring you closer—and you loathe just how right this feels. 

Your legs tremble as his tongue slides along your lower lip, a soft moan spilling into his mouth. You feel him grin against you—can taste the blood on his lips, the bitter sweetness dancing on your tongue as he utters, “Eager, are we?” 

Tightening your grip on his hair, he hiss slips from his teeth. “Shut up.” 

He obliges—his mouth drifting from your lips to your jaw, leaving a bloody trail of kisses in his wake. You try not to think as he finally reaches your neck, earning a soft whine as he nips at your flesh. You try to forget who he is—that you’re supposed to hate him—as he shoves his leg between yours, offering you the very friction you so desperately desired. 

“This changes nothing, Benji,” you pant. 

He bristles at the nickname, letting his teeth sink deeper into your flesh, a deep bruise already blooming along your neck. “Sure." His own breathing is frantic and uneven as he rasps, “Whatever you say..” 

Your hand falls from his chest to his breeches, fingers already fumbling with the laces when you choke out, “I still think you’re disgusting, Blackwood.”

His own touch disappears beneath your tunic, fingertips trailing along every inch of your skin until his palms finally skim along your bare breasts. He gives one a rough squeeze before flashing that stupid, bloody grin of his. 

“And you’re still a liar, Bracken.”

a/n - writing fan fic for a character that hasn't even appeared on screen yet is wild. (hbo, this better be bloody ben or else I'll riot because this is perfect casting). anyway, I don't wanna be held accountable for how terrible, short, and rushed this is (I was bored and didn't feel like putting more effort into this than necessary rn) OR how wildly ooc this will likely prove to be come Sunday.

also---turns out that writing without actually knowing the character is hard! who'd have thunk, am I right?

[catsteeth]

Turn Your Cloak

Benjicot Blackwood x reader 

+:✿ One Shot ✿:+

Summary: You’re a Velaryon/Strong princess, daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. You have unhappily left Dragonstone to travel the RiverLands on a marital tour. A marriage to untie the RiverLands with your mothers claim.  CW: MDNI, afab reader, violence, misogyny, SMUT, drunk sexual relations, fingering, biting, cum play (sorta kinda), alcohol consumption, mention of arranged marriage, proposal. A/N: your honor, I do not care if he aint bloody ben… he got me during my ovulation cycle so he’s getting a smutty one shot. 

Word Count: 6K

You swore, pleaded, and begged your mother not to send you on a marital tour. You wanted to fight for your mothers claim, for revenge, with your dragon Silverwing. A giant beast whose loyalty to you was greater than any other.

You did not wish to be paraded around the realm as if you were a ladder for a house to climb towards the crown. But you knew it was inevitable.

Your mother had no desire to betroth you to the only eligible Targaryen. Nor did Alicent have any desire to wed her trueborn son to the bastard daughter of Dragonstone. And now it was impossible, blood was shed and war was afoot.

In the gantry of Dragonstone, Silverwing stood beside you as you begrudgingly shoved your hands into the leather of your riding gloves. Her feeling your unhappiness nudged you with her snout as she often did. It used to push you to the ground but now you were used to it. You ran your hand up her snout, smiling softly as her nostrils flared and her eyes blinked slowly at you. 

Though your smile faded once you saw your mother entering the mounting dock. As she smiled somberly upon you, you looked away from her defiantly. “Must I go?” You asked, your gentle tone thinly veiled your anger.

She stepped closer to you, “I was once in your position myself. The idea of marriage itself once greatly disagreed with me.” She said with a tilt of her head, attempting to console you one last time. 

You turned to her, “Then why send me off?” you said in a huff.

With a huff in return your mother began her lecture, “The Riverlands would be an invaluable asset in this war. Deamon has already complicated our position there enough.” Her passion rose in her voice, and her eyes narrowed, “A marriage to a respected house would strengthen our support. But I do not wish to pick a suitor for you, a luxury that I was not granted.” She sighed, letting go of her anger. Understanding your position. “Marriage is partnership. Find someone who you can lean on, someone who has the humility to lean on you. As I did with your father.” She said softly.

You sighed, stepping closer to her. “No one will want me. It will be a great jest to them.” You whispered to her. 

Your mother looked upon you with confusion, “Why would you-”

“Jurnegon rȳ nyke, muña.  Nyke gīmigon iksan kostōba.  Āzma hen Perzys Ānogār. Eman jorrāelagon syt ziry, yn issa gīda naejot mirre iksan daor āzma hen lopor se embar.” “Look at me,  Mother. I know I am strong. Born of fire and blood, yes. And despite my love for it, it is clear to all I am not born of salt and sea.” You spoke in High Valyrian in an attempt to hide your words from outsiders. 

Your mother looked around paranoid that there might be ears around. She turned to you, holding your cheek in your hand, “Emā se ānogar hen uēpa Valyria isse aōha ānogar.  Iksā iā zaldrīzes kipagīros.  Dārilaros hen sīkuda Dārȳti.  Dārilaros naejot Driftmārki.  Iksā iā Targārien.  Konīr iksis daor iā lentor bona ivestragon daor.” “You have the blood of old Valyria in your veins. You are a dragon rider. Princess of the seven kingdoms. Heir to Driftmark. You are a Targaryen. There is not a house that could refuse you.” She said with hard eyes and a strong conviction in her voice. Attempting to convince you of your own importance desperately. 

You sighed, looking down. “Lī vali jaelagon nyke syt ñuha ānogar se daorun tolī.  Jaelan naejot jorrāelagon se sagon jorrāelatan.” “Those men want me for my blood and nothing more. I want to love and be loved.” You said, the sadness in you grew, and Silverwing let out a small whine as she felt it too.

Your mother looked upon you sweetly, seeing so much of herself in you. She ran her hand along the length of your hair, “Nyke nykēla iksin daor biare naejot sagon wed naejot aōha kepa.  Yn isse jēda kesā ūndegon, hēnka.  Hae nyke se aōha kepa gōntan. Se riñar kessa sagon aōha rovaja biarves.  Kesā dohaeragon aōha gaomilaksir lēda rōvēgrie rigle.  Mazverdagon bisa ojūdan syt aōha ānogar.” “I myself was not happy to be wed to your father. But in time you will find commonality. As I and your father did. And children will be your greatest happiness. You will serve your duty with great honor. Make this sacrifice for your house.” Her last words were the words of a ruler, not a mother. But you understood her position well enough.

You look towards Silverwing, who’s loving eyes look upon you. 

You thought for a moment, even if you married a man you would never be able to take you away from your dragon. And with your dragon, you’d always be free. 

You let out one last defiant huff, “What if they are all old and terrible?” You asked like a child.

Your mother sharply exhaled through her nose as she smirked at your attitude. “Fly safely, sweet girl.” She said as she kissed your brow before leaving you to fly. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As you flew over the Riverlands, you approached the large plot of land that the good Lords of Riverland picked for you to receive suitors. You could see the crowds of men like ants below you. 

Part of you wanted to command Silverwing to burn them all, the other half of you wanted to keep flying and not look back. However neither part could hold sway in this. If you wanted revenge for Luke, or Rhaenys, you would need to play your role no matter how unpleasant it may be. 

As you landed, the men attempted to remain calm and composed. However as Silverwing’s weight shook the ground, and her roar crackled through the air, the men took cautious steps backwards and tried to hold their gasps to themselves. You smirked to yourself as you dismounted.

“You are late, Princess.” Ser Lorent, a member of your mothers Queens Guard said to you.

You bit down on the finger of your leather gloves as you pulled them off, “Well then we’d ought to proceed in haste.” You said with a mischievous smile. 

“Introducing, Princess (Y/N). Trueborn daughter of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and Lord Leanor Velaryon. Heir to Driftmark, the future Lady of the tides and master of ships.” Ser Lorent announced as you sat at the makeshift throne they’d created for you. 

And so the vieding began. One Lord after another, giving you the same speech of how honorable their house is, and how loyal they have always been to your mothers inheritance. Soon your patience was running thinner, and thinner. 

It was only when an elderly man approached, and began speaking to his worth for your hand. You scoffed to yourself as he did so shamelessly, “My Princess, If chosen I will ensure your safety-”

You interrupted him, “Tell me Lord Chambers, how do you plan on protecting me when you are older than my own Grandsire?” The old man stared at you, his mouth agape as the other men began to snicker, “It is a reasonable question.” You finished. 

“My Princess,” Ser Lorent said under his breathe in annoyance, 

“I mislike old men who think themselves worthy of any woman.” You said to him quietly. 

He sighed “Next,” Ser Lorent called out in a huff.

As you saw the next plain faced boy walking towards the front of the line you turned back to the knight beside you, “Ser Lorent, I am quite tired and quite famished. As is Silverwing.” you said in a desperate attempt to finish this marital tour early. 

As you stood from your seat, Silverwing cried out and the thunder in the sky rang. Clouds gathered over the Riverlands, and the winds began to shift. However you were undeterred, paying no mind to it, you continued to walk towards Silverwing who was already laying close to the ground for you to mount her. 

Ser Lorent however came towards you, grabbing your arm gently. “A storm approaches,” Ser Lorent warned you. 

You looked upon the sky, ready to crack at any moment. But then shaking your head and then resuming your strides towards your beast. “Silverwing has seen worse.” 

“I do not think that is wise, my Princess. Silverwing has seen worse in flight but you have not. You lack the experience.” He called out over the sky’s loud rumbles. 

He spoke truly, and it frustrated you. You spun around looking towards him, “Well what would you have me do?” 

Ser Lorent looked behind him, raising his hand presenting the men that stood there, “We've the Lords of this Land here, they’d be more than honored to offer bread and milk to a Princess.” 

You were not at all thrilled by the idea of it. Though as the sky began to crack, and the water fell from the heavens above you, you’d no choice. “What of Silverwing?”

Ser Lorent was much more concerned with your own well being than that of a dragon, one that could manage fine on its own. “Leave the beast for the night-”

You shook your head, and retorted quickly, “I will not leave Silverwing. She’s mine.” You said with strong conviction. 

He huffed, growing more frustrated by your stubbornness. “My Princess, the only place with large enough land to accommodate such a beast would be the Raventree Hall.” 

“Who occupies it?” You nearly shouted over the growing rain, 

“The Blackwoods, my Princess.” Ser Lorent shouted back, loud enough for the Blackwoods to hear it. 

Lord Blackwood almost appeared out of thin air as he approached you with his seven sons. The sight made you exhausted at the idea of being under a roof with them, “We’d be most grateful if you and your dragon accept our guest right, my Princess.” You thought of it for a moment, but with no choice you nodded hesitantly, The Lord looked giddy like a child as he turned to his nephew behind him, “Benjicot give the Princess your cloak for Gods sake.” 

The lad came to you, holding a black and red cloak. He did not look you in the eye but stared at the ground as he approached you. Once he stood face to face with you, he looked down into your eyes. You felt a shiver down your spine, surely it was due to the frightful weather. He gently placed the cloak upon your shoulders before giving you a slight respectful nod, “My Princess.”

You looked at him with curious eyes, “I thank you.” You said to him, earnestly. 

“Fly your beast to the fields of RavenTree, our men will take care of you.” Lord Blackwood shouted. 

You nodded, then mounted Silverwing, “Rȳbās, dokimarvose, Silverwing! sagon gīda, rȳbagon, dohaerās, sōvēs!” “Focus, pay attention, Silverwing! Be calm, listen, obey, fly!” You shouted over the thundering rains now roaring through the skies, commanding your beast. To which she as always eagerly obeyed. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

In Raventree you sat at the head of a large dinner table with the rest of the Blackwoods. You awkwardly picked at the food that was being served to you on the finest plates they owned. All the while Lord Blackwood went on and on about their houses' histories. All that you could stand but your patience was tested when the Lord Black wood began to say… “It would of course be a great honor, the highest honor, for the Princess to consider one of our sons-”

Benjicot placed his fork down loudly, as he kept his head low looking over to his uncle, “Uncle, I am sure the Princess would rather eat.” It was as if he could tell the question offended you.

You looked at the dark haired man sitting beside you. His eyes met yours for only a moment before he looked away. You wanted to thank him, but could tell his comment only upset his uncle.

Your eyes stayed on Ben as you said, “I thank you-” Before turning your head to his uncle, “for your hospitality. And I thank you for your… proposals.” You said politely, attempting to hide your discomfort.

Lord Blackwells attention then again turning back to you smiled as he leaned forward at the other end of the table, "I once vied for your mother, the Queen Rhaenyra's hand, before she wed Ser Laenor. I always liked her spirit. She had the true blood of the dragon. Just as I see it in you.” He said with a smile, you suspected it was to be a compliment but it only made you feel dirty.

“Uncle.” Benjicot said under his breath, glaring at his uncle. You could feel the hostility emanating off of him. 

His uncle glared back at him, and rather than allow an altercation to take place you interjected. 

“Your house honors me, my Lord. I thank you, and the crown shall not forget your service. However, it has been a long day, and I spent many hours on dragon back. I should bid you all a pleasant night.” 

The Lord bowed his head, “Of course, my Princess.” He turned to a handmaiden who stood behind him holding a large bottle of their wine. “Jeyne, take the Princess (Y/N) to her chambers.” 

As you followed the handmaiden to your chambers, your loyal knight Ser Lorent followed closely behind you. “Who are you considering, my Princess?” He asked closely to your ear. 

You breathed a sigh of relief allowing your snarky personality to resurface, “I am considering many things. None of them are any of those men we saw today.” 

You reminded Ser Lorent of the most annoying parts of your mother when she was young. He huffed, “If you do not select a suitor, my Princess… The Riverlands-”

“Would now surely turn their cloaks, I know it.” As you reached your chambers, you turned to him, “Allow me to sleep. I’ll have an answer on the Marrow.” You conceded. 

He nodded somberly, “Goodnight, my Princess.” He said before leaving.

You did not sleep however. Your mind was restless. Of all the men you saw today, none offered you anything. None of them seemed to have any humility. Nor did any excite you. You stared out the window of your chambers, watching Silverwing lay in the fields of Raventree. She sighed restlessly, just as you did. You hated leaving her in such weather, but as the rains let up, you grabbed the cloak the blackwood nephew offered you. 

And so you snuck out of your chambers, so kindly given to you by the Blackwoods. With the intention of riding Silverwing back home and begging your mothers forgiveness and pray she doesn’t decide on a match for you.

However as you tread through the wet grass and mud towards your gorgeous beast. You unexpectedly were confronted with a rowdy group of Blackwood boys drinking from two large jugs of ale. You stopped in your tracks and stared at them with wide eyes, to which they returned the same look of shock when they saw you. Their loud speaking, laughing, and singing came to a stop once they saw you.

“My Lady!” One of the boys said as he hid the jug of ale behind his back.

The one beside him smacked the back of his head, “She’s not a lady, she’s a princess!” The other loudly corrected. 

You raised your hands up, “Sh!” You commanded, not wanting Ser Lorent to hear.

The eldest looking one began to stammer, “Princess, I- I apologize we thought you were abed.” 

You waved your hand in dismissal, “It’s quite alright.” You wrapped yourself in the cloak for warmth,  “It’s your home.” The boys looked at you with confusion. They did not want to question a princess but they really had no idea what you were doing out in the fields after such a storm. “I could not find sleep. So I took to a walk.” It technically was not a lie. 

The boys looked at you in silence, unsure of what to say or do. Until the younger boy revealing his jug of ale from behind his back, “We’ve ale-” 

The boy offered you, but soon a familiar voice rang out within the group of lads. “A Princess does not drink our shit ale.” Benjicot said as he stepped forward. 

You however did not need your honor defended against a drink. A drink you so badly needed, “I’ll drink it.” You said stepping forward and grabbing the jug and taking a swig. 

And soon enough you were as tipsy as the rest of the lads, and walking along the fields of the Blackwood land. You found yourself actually enjoying yourself. The boys were kind, and amused you. In fact you couldn’t think of the last time you’d laughed. 

The boys gasped as they saw your large beast fly across the sky. Her form covers the light of the moon for a moment. 

You smiled as you looked upon her, “Silverwing. She bonded with me when I was a girl the age of ten and two.” 

“Can we ride on it?” The younger blackwood boy asked innocently. 

“Don’t be daft, the beast would eat you alive!” The eldest boy said, scolding his younger brother. 

Amused you smiled as you pasted the jug of ale back. This time Benjicot took it from you. His hand gently brushed against your own. When his warm skin touched your own, you felt a chill. As if you’d never been touched before. You looked into his eyes. He didn’t seem so hard, his gaze was warm. You didn’t want to look away, and you didn’t want to move your hand. And from his stare you could tell neither did he. Until his gaze was ripped from you as six other men approached from down a tall hill.

Ben took the jug of ale from your hands, “Bracken cunts.” he grumbled  as he stepped in front of you, “Take the Princess back to Raventree Hall.” He ordered as he glared at the men approaching you. Though none dared to touch you. 

“Fitting!” One of the men in yellow said, “A bastard belongs with a Blackwood.“ They laughed. 

“What did you say?” Ben hissed, attempting to step towards them but one of the other blackwood boys held him back.

The man in yellow pointed at you, “The bastard’s dragon ate five Bracken cows.” He shouted.

Before Ben pushed his cousin off of him but before he could do or say anything else, you spoke up, “I would see to it that your house was given their worth doubled for your trouble. But your words are treasonous and above all a great insult to my mother the Queen.” You spoke calmly but your tone was dark and deep.

The Bracken stifled a laugh, stepping closer to you, “Your false Queen mother is a whore. What Velaryon has hair like that?” 

Benjicot stepped closer to the Bracken, blocking his path to you, “You wouldn’t dare.” He said, holding onto the hilt of his dagger. Ready to take the Brackens tongue for his words.

As your heartbeat rose, a large thud shook the ground beneath your feet. Silence that followed rang loudly. But not as loudly as the rumble of a heavy growl Silverwing made as the large ghastly beast began crawling down the tall hill. She began to open her mouth, with the heat and light of fire emanating from it. 

“Daor! Likiri, gaomagon daor nābēmagon, Silverwing!” “Be Calm, do not attack, Silverwing!” You commanded, and she obeyed. She let out a sigh, and a whine, eager to protect her rider. 

“Jikagon, kisalbar va tolī nuspes.” “Go, feast on more cows.” Your command pleased her well enough as she took to the sky once more. The flap of her wings and a large gust of wind pushed some of the Brackens into the mud. 

Your eyes went back down to the Brackens, “I just saved your very life. You might wish to thank me, by leaving my presence.” The men scattered, running back over the hill. 

Benjicot turned back to you, “I’ll see you to your chamber.” He said with a huff as he walked past you. 

As you followed the lads back, they were silent, aside from the youngest Blackwood making a few comments of how exciting it was to see a dragon up close. To which his older brother smacked the back of their head. 

Once Benjicot and you reached the door to your chamber, he stood there for a moment, trying his hardest not to look at you. As if he were restraining himself from something. 

“I enjoyed myself tonight. You have a charming family.” You said attempting to ease the awkward silence. 

His eyes finally found yours, unable to resist your gaze any longer. As you looked up at him, his dark hair messied from the night wind. His nose was slightly crooked no doubt from another fight. Something he seemed to enjoy. You found his temper to light a heat within your body. As did his gaze. It was lustful and warm. 

Your eyes fixated on his lips, he’d a small scar from his top lip to his nose. Perhaps it was from when he was a babe, or again, another fight. You didn’t know but wanted to, it was strange you had no interest in any man other than ogling at the nice looking ones from time to time. But you never had any interest in them as persons.

As your eyes still lingered on his lips. You looked back into his eyes, to see he himself was fixated on your own lips. He began to lean in closer to you, and you began to lean in closer to him. 

But he regained his control over himself, he bit his lower lip in restraint. Shutting his eyes, and swifting walking away. Leaving you in the hall. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

You did not return to your room. No. 

You went back to the fields. You felt as though you were proven right. No man would want you. You were a bastard and the subject of many jokes amongst the highborns. Why would he want you? 

Your emotion took hold of you, regrettably. It was apparent as Silverwing began to crawl towards you, whining as she felt your pain. You loved your bond but hated that it would impact her in such a way.

So you embraced her, running your hand against her scales as you sang softly to her. “Drakari pykiros, Tīkummo jemiros, Yn lantyz bartossa, Saelot vāedis. Hen ñuhā elēnī: Perzyssy vestretis, Se gēlȳn irūdaks, Ānogrose, Perzyro udrȳssi, Ezīmptos laehossi, Hārossa, letagon, Aōt vāedan, Hae mērot gierūli: Se hāros bartossi, Prūmȳsa sōvīli, Gevī dāerī.” “Fire breather, Winged leader, But two heads, To a third sing. From my voice: The fires have spoken, And the price has been paid, With blood magic, With words of flame, With clear eyes, To bind the three, To you I sing, As one we gather, And with three heads, We shall fly as we were destined Beautifully, freely.” She purred and chirped at your song, calming her just as you knew it would. 

You smiled as she calmed, and in turn you felt peace as well. Until-

A familiar voice beckoned out “Your song is quite nice, your voice is beautiful.” You turned around to see Ben. You felt some anger towards him. But refused to allow him to think that you would care.

You nodded, “Thank you.” 

“What does it mean?” He asked gently, much more gently than he spoke to any other person that day.

You looked at him with curiosity, “It’s a song we sing to claim them. Though I find it calms her.” You looked away from him coldy, and returned to pet her. 

He swallowed hard, unsure of how to approach you, “I apologize for being… cold earlier. It was beneath me and you’d not deserve such treatment.” He said cautiously, you could tell he wished to say more but did not. He stepped towards you, “What are you doing here?”

You looked at him once more, your spirits softening for some reason. Strange as apologies never seemed to work on you. You sighed, “Debating whether I should flee to Pentos now that the skies are clear, or marry the oldest man who vied today.” 

“You said he was older than your grandsire.” He said, holding in a laugh at the memory of your insult. 

You smirked at him, “Well hopefully they’d not live long enough to consummate the marriage.”

He bit his tongue as he smirked back at you, “You don’t talk like a Princess.” He shook his head. 

You turned to face him as you stepped away from Silverwing, “Oh! You’ve met many?” You teased as you walked closer to him, “What are you doing here?”

His smile faded, and his eyes hardened, “Those cravens cannot speak to a princess-to you as he did. They were undeserving of your mercy.” He said angrily. 

You smirked and walked closer towards him, “Rivermen are made of mud, stubborn.” 

Davos sat down on the ground in a huff, “I should beat that Bracken cunt into the mud.” he said as he bit on his knuckles, still fuming. 

You however still found it not only amusing but excites your body, “I dare you.” you said with a mischievous grin, holding back a giggle.

Davos looked at you with wild eyes, blood lust perhaps. It made a shiver run down your spine as he stood and began to march back to the fields. As he was gritting through his teeth, and storming up to the Brackens still on the field. You followed him giddy, practically skipping behind him. 

As he marched over the tall hill, he could see the Bracken that had levied insult to your parentage earlier that night. He was stacking wood, and unluckily for him, alone. 

“Oi!” Davos yelled as he and you approached the Bracken. 

The fight was hardly fair. Not that Ben was larger or even stronger than the Bracken. But the way he fought was brutal and savage. The Bracken could not keep up with him. In the end the Bracken was a bloody, whimpering mess. And Ben was bloody, and dirtied from the mud. 

As he got off the Bracken, he was panting from exhaustion, but once his eyes fell back onto you, his gaze softened. 

It grew a heat in your body. As well as a guilt. You walked up to him in hast, your eyes clouded by lust. You grabbed his face into your hands and kissed him deeply. His hand found your jaw, attempting to pull you deeper into the kiss as if it were possible. 

Afterwards, you and Ben practically dragged one another back to Raventree and more specifically back to your chambers.

You began to disrobe. Beginning with the cloak he’d given you earlier that day. “I think I might be a poor influence on you, My Lord.” You said as you threw the cloak onto the bed.

“Or I you.” He said as his eyes roamed your form lustfully. 

You kicked your muddied shoes off, “Mayhaps both.” You began to untie the laces of your gown, “Still… Tonight was anything but dull.” You were left in your shift and small clothes. “Even when you are drunk, you fight very well.” You said as you crawled onto your bed.

Ben walked up to the end of your bed, looking down upon you with undignified thoughts, “Ah, well, those bracken swines couldn’t fight a babe.” He rasped, “I shouldn’t be swearing in front of a Lady, a princess no less.” He said as he cupped your cheek as you kneeled on the bed in front of him.

“I like it.” You said as you took his hand, looking at his bloodied knuckles, “Besides, I am hardly a lady.”

He shook his head with a soft smile, “No, you could be my Lady.” You looked up at him, somehow surprised by his words, “Your days would be easy and nights safe, not that you’d need it.” He rubbed your knuckles with his thumb.

Humility, was that what your mother spoke of? A man who could tell when his lady held her own?

“You did not vie for my hand today in the woods. But you do now, here in my chamber.” It was partially a jest, and partially not. You did not wish to be bedded and discarded. You did not want another jest to be made of you. 

His eyes darkened again, “It is an insult to you. To have each man from their houses come to bid on your hand. As if you’re a mare to breed.” He shook his head in disgust.

You smiled softly at him, “You’re unlike other men.” 

“In what way?” He asked earnestly. 

“You’re not an imbecile who thinks himself entitled to me simply because you’ve a cock.” You said with a smirk, and he chuckled softly at your vulgar words. 

He shook his head, “You owe me nothing. However I must ask of you one thing.” He said softly.

“What would that be?” You asked, looking up into his warm eyes.

He took your face into both of his hands, “All I ask is all of you, forever. Claim to your hand in marriage.” 

You felt time slow, as if it stopped just for you both. 

You’d ogled knights fighting in tourneys, or sparring in the yards. You’d met hundreds of Lords and can recall many you found comely. But none of them made you feel this way. None made your body weaken, and shake. None made your heart quicken. None made heat splash across your cheeks by their gaze alone. 

You never thought you’d accept a marriage by a man you’d only met meer hours ago. But he didn’t feel that way. He felt as though he’d been yours a lifetime, and you his.

‘that must be the ale’ you thought. And even if it was, which it wasn’t, Out of all the men you’d seen today he would have been your pick. 

You nodded, “You have it.”

You stood on your knees on the end of your bed. Wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a gentle kiss. He sucked gently on your plush lower lip, sweetly and slowly. His hands grasped your hips tightly. Leaving dirtied and bloody hand prints on your shift.

“We shouldn’t, I am bloodied, dirty,” He said reluctantly. 

You looked into his eyes, heavy with lust, “Then you should stop touching me with your eyes.” You smirked, and he smirked back at you, his eyes still running over your form, “Besides, I like it.” You said into his lips. 

He kissed you passionately, and then bit your lip making you wet. You whimpered as you pulled away, slightly surprised by his boldness. “You are a bad influence, my lady.” He leaned his forehead against your own, and looked into your eyes deviously. 

“Your lady?” You teased

“My Princess- my queen.” He said in a whisper as he rubbed his nose against yours.

“Call me my name,” You said with a smirk as your eyes stared at his lips.

“(Y/N)” He smiled as he stared at your lips as well. “My (Y/N),” He whispered into your lips. Kissing you again, passionately. 

His hands gripped your plush sides, running them up and down your back, running them through your hair, and soon enough he let go of any restraint as he ran his hand down your front, between your breasts, over your stomach, and between your thighs. You let out a small gasp as you felt his fingers move over your clothed cunt. 

“You ever had a man touch you like this?” He rasped into your lips, “It’s alright if ye have, I just want to know how careful I got to be.” He whispered.

You shook your head, “Only my own.” you whispered back.

“I’ll be careful,” He said as he placed his palm cupping your jaw, and his fingers tangled in your hair.

You shook your head again, this time with more conviction, “Don’t be.” You said slightly louder. His eyes stared into yours, as he slipped his hand into your small clothes. Slipping his fingers into your warmth. You moaned softly, and your face contorted to the pleasure. He relished in it. Watching you take the pleasure he was giving you. Loving your sounds more than he thought he ever could. “You feel like silk… Velvet…” He whispered into your lips, his mouth grazing over yours. It was as if he was breathing in each of your moans. 

You grabbed a hold of a handful of his dark hair, Pressing his forehead into yours even more, “That feels… good.” You whined, “So good.” You said as he began to kiss your neck. 

“You smell like dragon fire.” He said as he inhaled your scent, as if it were intoxicating. His fingers were still toying with your cunt.

He was doing such a good job, you turned your head to whisper into his ear, “You want to ride a dragon?” You asked mischievously with a smirk.

His face left your neck, looking into your eyes with devotion, “Only one.” 

You bit your lip looking at him, You stifled a laugh. “Do the biting again, maybe I’ll let you.” 

And so he did. He kissed you as if he were a starved man. Biting your lip as you commanded. His fingers motions quickened. He used two fingers to pump in and out of you while his thumb circled your clit. 

He sloppily kissed you, from your lips, to the side of your mouth, to your jaw, and finally your neck. Breathing in your scent as he bit and sucked at the sensitive skin of your throat. The pleasure was so great, you felt yourself clenching around his fingers. 

Your moans got louder, but he’d not have anyone other than him hearing them. Not let anyone know you, an unwed noble lady, were doing such an indecent act. So he pressed his mouth to yours, practically breathing in your moans to hide them. 

You clenched around his fingers tightly as you came. You shook and shuttered as you held onto his shoulders for dear life. 

He continued to pulse his fingers into you, helping you ride out your climax, until you were resting your head on his shoulder.  A whimpering and panting mess, like the Bracken. 

As he pulled his fingers out of your sensitive cunt, he looked at his wet fingers, taking them into his mouth. 

You looked at him with exhausted half lidded eyes, “Vulgar.” you said, as if it didn’t make your cunt hungry for more. 

“Ah, but you don’t taste vulgar at all.” He said as he held you closer, “You taste sweet like wine.” You said nothing, just looked at him with confusion and a smirk, “You don’t believe me?” He asked as he pressed his lips against yours, and pushed his tongue into your mouth. You tasted yourself on his tongue, and he was right, you did taste sweet. 

“Mphmm…” You moaned as your tongues dances together. 

Your hand found the tenting bulge in his breeches, you palmed it excitedly, wanting more. 

He begrudgingly took your wrist, “I cannot-” He said shutting his eyes, as if looking at you would cause him to break. “We may be drunk, I may be the hardest I’ve ever been, and you the most beautiful woman I've seen… But I cannot.” He said, attempting to convince himself. 

“You do not want to?” You asked sweetly. 

His eyes went wide at your question, and brows narrowed. “I want to, Gods know that I have wanted to sense I saw you ride that beast into the Riverlands. I thought that I would be able to, but I’ll not sully you without the Gods knowing I’m yours.” He spoke earnestly. 

You held in a laugh, “I’d not take you for a pious man.” 

You held your face in his hands, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the realm. “I’m not. But you're sacred to me, I don’t know why.” He shook his head. 

You smiled softly, “Then take this,” You said as you pulled off your small damp small clothes, “something for you to worship.” You with a cheek grin. 

He bit his tongue as he grinned at you. He grabbed hold of your small clothes, shoved them into his breeches for later. 

He gave you a final kiss before leaving you for the night. 

Finally, you found sleep. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The next morn you began to prepare for your flight back home. 

As you put your leather riding gloves on, you looked out to see the members of House Blackwood coming to bid you farewell. Ben following behind, smiling at you.

Lord Blackwood approached you, “My Princess, I do not wish to pester you. However, have you considered perhaps a member of House Blackwood?” He began to ask once again. 

You however now had an answer, and delivered it quickly. “The Blackwoods are an ancient house. Once ruled as kings of the Riverlands.” You smiled, “It’d be a great honor.” 

Ser Lorent, who was reading his horse, could not believe his ears that you’d made such a decision so quickly. 

Lord Blackwood was eliated and attempted to remain composed. “You honor us greatly, Princess.” He let out a breathe to calm himself, smiling widely, “Perhaps our eldest son Samwell-”

“Benjicot.” You interrupted. “If he is willing of course. We are the same age, I feel it will make an equal union.” You explained. 

However he was not about to deny you, nor question your decision. As long as he’d the last name Blackwood that was all that mattered. “Very wise, my Princess. Fly safely, we shall see one another again.” He smiled and you smiled back with a nod. 

As he left you, Benjicot approached you, as he did his uncle passed him. Patting him on the back excitedly which only annoyed and embarrassed him. 

“Princess,” He bowed his head to you, keeping formalities in front of the knights of your mother. He held out a scroll of parchment. 

You took the scroll, looking at the wax seal of the sigil of house Blackwood. “What is this?” You asked softly. 

“A written proposal of marriage.” He said, holding in an eager smile. “Something to show to your mother. I wish for her to understand my intentions.” He said earnestly. 

“I should return this to you before I leave.” You said as you handed him his cloak that he’d given you the day prior.

He shook his head, “Keep it.” He said, stepping closer to you. “You’ll have something of mine, and I something of yours.” He said in a hushed whisper. You smiled softly, and Silverwing purred.

You looked at her, petting her side gently, “She likes you, I think.” 

“I should hope so.” He said, intimidated by the large beast. You smirked and giggled softly, “I shall write to you.” He said as you mounted Silverwing. 

“I would like that.” You said looking down upon him, hooking yourself into your saddle. “Geros ilas, ēva nyke ūndegon ao arlī.” You said to him sweetly.

“What does that mean?” He asked, 

You smirked down at him, “Perhaps one day I will teach you.” 

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