#Willem Blackwood x reader

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The lads and their lady

warning : comfort, kisses, cuddling, hurt/comfort (the healthiest couples currently in hotd next to Rhaenys and Corlys honestly)

Summary : Several sides face off in the looming war. Everyone chose their side the black or the green also Oscar, Davos, Aeron and Willem had to choose their sides which turned out to be more difficult than expected but their betrothed was there to support them no matter what…there was always affection to be had in the oddest hour.

info : The lads, even if Willem,Davos and Aeron aren't quite part of it, but I wanted him in it. I like them all innocent, a little crazy in a war but cute well have fun reading :)

masterlist

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Oscar : It was his first real and important assignment given to him by the Master and his foster father Simon Strong, it would be a meeting with the Prince Regent, the husband of the Black Queen and although he was still young, had never fought in battle, he was good with a sword, kind and dutiful but nothing could have prepared the young Tully for what he would be confronted with by the Targaryen.

Instead, he was left with an uncertain dejected but mostly confused expression in the main room as he watched the silver-blond haired one leave and as soon as the door closed he heard her footsteps. ,,What a rude ruffian asking you to kill your own Lord Grandfather and what foul words" he heard the grumbling of his betrothed the eldest heiress of one of the sworn to House Tully and her hand going to his to stroke it.

He had quickly noticed that she always sought his hand when she was upset or angry to fulfill the promise of a noble lady. Despite their young age, they always wanted to look good, but after such a conversation, who wouldn't be so angry?

Oscar remembered himself from the engagement how nervous they both were and how his own grandfather had encouraged him - how could he even kill him? His greenish dark eyes shifted gratefully from his foster father to his lost one and he gave her a reassuring smile before gripping her hand tighter and pulling her into a grateful hug.

His greenish dark eyes shifted gratefully from his foster father to his betrothed and he gave her a reassuring smile before gripping her hand tighter and pulling her into a grateful hug. ,,I appreciate your compassion and opinion that the print was truly removed with shameful words," he said with a murmur and let his eyes drop to his sword at his side, the creepy thought of killing his grandfather giving him goosebumps.

But before that could happen, he felt her hand detach from his and tousle through his hair, ,,Come on my future Lord Tully let's see if the library is full of other ways to help your grandfather where dragons don't fit," a gesture she made to cheer him up but it was just what he needed before a smile formed on his lips and Simon Strong allowed them both to leave, pleased that they weren't losing hope, at least in the face of the dark future, as they walked lovingly into the library holding hands.

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Davos : Loud voices and cursing could be heard from the distance as she waited on the castle walls of Raventree Hall for her betrothed. The small scouting party of her newly knighted davod had set out with a few short ones to scout the borders of the territory, but apparently something had happened even on such a normal errand.

The party seemed to be upset about something and she saw that there was dirt and mud on the dark red and black of his clothes as they waited on the lowered drawbridge from the castle walls. ,,Was your mission dirtier than you expected my dear fiancé? " she asked with a slight smile and stifled a laugh when she saw the dirty face on the boys.

She gave a sigh of relief when Davos first snorted and then with a nasty grin wrapped his arms around her and covered her new dress with mud, ,,So it seems my dirty little bird" he replied before the two smiled at each other and the group headed back into the castle with the innocent actual young mind.

Clothes could be washed but lives were not easily replaced something they quickly realized during this time and the young couple soon found themselves together again in the evening in the great hall where the meal was taken.

She could still see that Davos still seemed annoyed about what had happened, as she had learned of an altercation with Aeron Bracken she had seen him a few times but House Bracken had also chosen sides ,,Don't fret Davos hotheadedness and courage are on your side…besides you have a shield that Aeron doesn't have" she said.

Seeing him look to her before she gave him a kiss on the cheek seeing his cheeks take on a tinge of pink and he lowered his gaze with a smile and his hand held hers ,,A shield of love" he only murmured before taking a sip of the wine and the two of them returned to the conversation table.

But all the time he didn't let go of her hand, he played with her rings on his finger, seemed to be calmed by her with a simple smile, a loving look or a quick kiss when he got upset again, while his rough hand held hers, giving her a feeling of security.

Even if here and there they could both still see the dirt that had covered them it was all the same they had each other and she would help him where she could and if it meant a hundred clothes getting covered in mud so be it. It was true, they both had each other in a time when you had to trust in love.

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Aeron : The horse was his symbol, a symbol of his family, a symbol he would wear on his armor someday, now as a knight of the House of Bracken he had duties to fulfill but most of all he would marry his betrothed during or after the war.

His heart, his love the reason why he hoped that the war would somehow end well so that he could spend his life with his love in peace.

But for now, the only thing the young knight felt was wetness and hardness as his body still lay in the dirt and his cheek stung where Davos had struck him until the three knights could separate their "knights" and friends.

Now he sat leaning with his little group under the trees, looking at the grazing animals and trying not to look too closely at the Blackwoods' side until suddenly a horse caught his eye in the distance, riding faster and faster until the brown-haired man was pleased to see that it was his betrothed. ,,My beloved, what are you doing out here, isn't it safe?" he asked and his friends bowed slightly, even though such formalities were hardly necessary when they were alone, but he didn't get an answer so quickly.

Instead, he saw worry in her gaze as she dismounted her brown horse and took his hands in hers, ,,Safe? Aeron you-you all should have been back hours ago, I was worried," she confessed, seeing how confused he seemed. Her heart had longed for him when he had left with his group, he had hidden himself in front of her and left a kiss on her lips, chaste but full of love, assuring her that he would come back and she had taken him on his oath so she finally had him again.

A look at the sky and the surroundings that he should have paid more attention to said that he was true, ,,Forgive me my dear it was just a little altercation" he tried to explain and stroked her hand but she just shook her head with a sigh before taking her silk scarf and wiping the blood from his cheek. ,,Small maybe…the main thing is you're all well and we're going back to Stonde Hedge," she decided and took his hand before brushing a mud-crusted strand from his face and looking at his rosy cheek before forcing him to get on the horse with her while his friends led the animal.

With Aeron in front of her, she embraced him from behind and laid her head on Aeron's shoulder, placing a kiss on his cheek, "Thank you, my heart," she heard him murmur, not only about the worry but also about her rescue of him, because they wouldn't have lasted much longer here. Before he leaned his head against hers for a moment and closed his eyes, relieved to have his love with him again.

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Willem : He had once given his heart, his hope and his honor for the princess of the realm, the heir to the throne of the real heir to the throne after the death of the former King Viserys. The princess Rhaenyra now proclaimed as queen he would follow but the love he once held in his heart for the princess now belonged to another woman for years.

His former betrothed now became his wife after the death of his brother, the woman at his side who not only helped him through his grief but also supported him in the care and counseling of his nephew.

But the decision in the war was as good as clear not only had the Bracken chosen a side, House Blackwood had also made its decision and the house and its followers were under greater pressure than ever before. ,,Men have already fallen in the battle of the burning mill, our grace is surrounded by ghosts on Harrenhal, we must do something," she heard him mutter as her husband leaned over the map of the land in their shared quarters on Harenhal after Willem returned from his conversation with Prince Daemon, who seemed to be completely beside himself.

She knew the moments Willem wanted to protect his house, protect her and protect his nephew in a war that was beyond them all. Her hand found its way to the table, wandering over the areas and scattered territories and she pushed House Bracken slightly aside, ,,Haunted by spirits our grace may be but you my dear Willem can take chances to ask him for advice to chastise the wretched horses" she gave her opinion and tilted the stature of the horse before placing the weirwood tree on it.

She watched with a satisfied smile as her husband looked at the situation before instructing a servant to take a message to Simon and Oscar before turning to his wife and placing his hand on hers. Rough hands stroked her gentle fingers, he looked at the ring on her ring finger for a moment, a dark red gemstone a symbol of blood and love that he had given her when she gave herself to him. ,,What would a knight do on the battlefield without his goddess?" he asked, his own lips curving into a smile as she stroked the brooch on his cloak, tracing the ravens of his house, and felt his gentle, grateful kiss on her lips.

,,Waiting for her wisdom and devotion," she murmured before clasping him in her arms and resting her head on his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of her husband and feeling the calm beat of his heart. Sometimes even the most excited raven needed a little help from his steady tree.

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[misswynters]

Stolen Moments

Willem Blackwood x reader

[WARNING: mdni, mature/explicit content, (18+), outside sex, smut with a bit of plot

[SYNOPSIS: You meet Willem in secret in godswood.

[note | the blackwoods and their obsession with having you against a tree (unintentional) second part?

[requested: by anon

part two |

Moonlight casted a silvery glow over the ancient weirwood grove, its crimson leaves rustling softly in the cool night breeze. The sacred heart tree stood at the center, its carved face watching over the grove with timeless wisdom. The godswood had always been a place of solace and reflection for you, but tonight, it held an electric charge of anticipation.

You had been meeting Willem Blackwood in secret for weeks, stolen moments filled with whispered confessions and lingering touches. The attraction between you had grown unbearable, a fire that neither of you could extinguish. Tonight, you had agreed to meet under the guise of seeking solace and guidance from the old gods, but you both knew what you truly sought.

Willem arrived silently, his dark eyes searching for you in the dim light. When he found you leaning against the heart tree, his breath caught. You looked ethereal, the moonlight casting a soft glow on your skin and making your eyes sparkle like stars. He approached you with a determined stride, his presence commanding yet tender.

"You're here," he whispered, his voice low and rough with desire.

"I couldn't stay away," you replied, your voice equally breathless.

Without another word, Willem closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of longing and urgency. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. He pressed you against the ancient trunk of the heart tree, the rough bark a stark contrast to the heat of his body.

His hands roamed over your form, caressing and exploring with a desperate need. You moaned softly into his mouth, the sound spurring him on. Willem's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a blazing path of kisses as he went. He tugged at the laces of your dress, his fingers deft and impatient. The cool night air kissed your skin as he bared you to him, his eyes darkening with desire as he took you in.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky with admiration.

Your breath hitched as his hands and mouth continued their worship of your body. You could feel the pulse of the old gods' power around you, as if the grove itself was alive with your passion. The sacredness of the place only heightened the intensity of your desire.

Willem lifted you effortlessly, draping your legs over his strong arms. He pressed you higher against the heart tree, sandwiching you between his hard body and the ancient trunk. The anticipation was nearly unbearable as you felt the heat of him against you, your bodies perfectly aligned. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice trembling with restraint.

"Yes," you breathed, your eyes locking onto his. "I need you, Willem."

With a groan, he pushed inside you completely, the sensation overwhelming and exquisite. Your cries mingled with his as he started to move, his hips driving into yours with a steady rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, your fingers digging into his shoulders for support.

Willem began to kiss you from your earlobe to your lips, his lips lingering on your skin as he whispered sweet nothings between breaths. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you even closer as he drilled inside you. The intensity of his movements left you breathless, struggling to keep up with his passionate kisses. "You're doing so good," he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with adoration. His hands slid from your thighs to your waist, his grip firm as he drilled into you with an intensity that left you dizzy. He pressed your thighs up, nearly against your chest, the new angle sending a wave of pleasure crashing through you. But with the pressure of his body pinning you to the tree, you felt a sharp pain in your lower back.

You winced, the discomfort breaking through the haze of pleasure. "Willem... my back," you managed to gasp.

Instantly, he stilled, his eyes widening with concern. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice soft and laced with guilt.

He eased his hold, pressing gentle kisses to your face, your neck, anywhere his lips could reach as if apologizing with each touch. His tenderness made your heart swell, and you tilted your head back to give him better access, the pain already fading as he continued to pepper your skin with affection.

After a moment, Willem adjusted his grip, wrapping your legs around his waist. The new position allowed him to hold you close without causing you discomfort, his body pressing against yours with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

"Is this better?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded, cupping his face in your hands as you kissed him, your lips conveying all the love and gratitude you felt. The kiss was slow, sweet, a stark contrast to the fiery passion that had consumed you moments before. But the heat was still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be reignited.

Willem resumed his movements, each thrust deep and controlled, his hips rolling against yours with a steady, delicious rhythm. The discomfort from before was completely gone, replaced by a rising wave of pleasure that made your toes curl. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved inside you, his lips never leaving yours.

The sensation was overwhelming, your body responding to him entirely. You could feel the tension building, the sweet pressure coiling tighter and tighter within you. Willem could sense it too, his pace quickening as he pressed you harder against him, his thrusts deeper and more urgent. Every touch, every kiss, every thrust brought you closer to the edge, your bodies a symphony of passion and need. The grove seemed to pulse with the rhythm of your lovemaking, the ancient magic of the place intertwining with your own.

Your breath hitched, the pleasure finally reaching its peak, your body trembling uncontrollably as you shattered in his arms. It was as if the old gods themselves blessed your union. The stars above seemed to shimmer brighter, the leaves rustling in approval. A groan escaping his lips as he buried his face in your neck, his body shuddering with release. Willem held you tightly as you both trembled in the aftermath, your bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction.

For a moment, the world was silent, the only sound the rapid beating of your hearts and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Willem held you close, his hands gentle as they caressed your back, his lips brushing against your temple in a tender kiss. The two of you whispered i love gosh to each other as he carefully dropped your legs down to the grass. The wind blowing between your bodies, and the cold hair started to cool you both off as your highs came down.

taglist: @eddie-brii @spn-obession @benjicotblckwood @beebeechaos

banner: @cafekitsune

[willowswiththorns]

No one has written for Willem Blackwood and it’s crushing me 😔 I wanna read this man being a simp

[apothe-roses]

Kinktober 2024

Day 20: Hate Fucking | Willem Blackwood x Bracken!reader

Word Count: 201

You hoped Grover Tully’s death was slow and agonizing.

The door closed with a thud. You look at your new husband. Willem Blackwood scowls at you.

“I’m sure you’re looking forward to this as little as I,” Willem starts. “Unfortunately, I am expected to perform by duty and beget a child on you.”

You scoff. “I’m sure it won’t be an enjoyable experience for either of us.”

“You think I can’t satisfy you?”

“You could pay a whore all the gold in Westeros, and couldn’t bring her to even fake her pleasure,” you smirk.

Willem turns from you, bracing his hands on the table.

“Craven,” you mutter. You put your back to him, only to be harshly turned back around by the arm.

He pushes you against the wall, kissing you harshly. His hands are forceful as he drags your skirts up harshly and slides a finger between your legs.

“If you hate Blackwoods so much, why are you wet right now?”

“The only thing making me wet right now is imagining your head on a spike.”

He chuckled darkly before scooping you up.

“I won’t be gentle.”

“Good.”

You claw his back and scream when he tears through your maidenhead.

[unknownmythicalcreature]

please, these blackwood men are living rent free on my mind rn 😭. gimme some willem blackwood ficss!

So I know the fandom is still busy being horny over Benjicot Blackwood, who's actually not Benjicot, but how are we all ignoring Willem Blackwood?? I was so sad when I found no fics for him 😢

[dani-says-stuff]

Weak Point

❥ Back to the Control Center

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Davos Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader

Summary: It was a well known fact that the Blackwoods and the Brackens hated one another, the houses would die before agreeing on anything. And it stayed that way until Davos Blackwood realized he might share one thing with the Brackens after all, his weak point.

Warnings: possible ooc davos?, i also made him Willem's nephew idk if thats accurate but whatever, allusions to smut but no actual smut, men being creepy, gross, and objectifying to reader (not Davos), mild violence, Daemon Targaryen, probably more stuff I don't remember... just tread carefully. its no worse than the stuff in the show. this is also very very unedited.

A/N: so, yeah, this is my first time ever writing for got/hotd so i hope i didnt screw it all up too bad. i started this just wanting to jot down this thought i had while watching the show and ended up getting SUPER carried away. i haven't read literally any of the books though so this could be completely messed up for all i know and i apologize for any lore butchering i may have done. i hope you enjoy !

Word Count: 6.2k

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

He was running.

His feet pounding against the ground as he wove throughout the trees under the cover of the black night sky. He hoped the torches carried in the hands of some of the other men didn't betray him, the dim yellow-orange glow casting light upon his face and showing off the panic he'd been trying his best to conceal, hidden poorly behind a half-hearted snear since Willem had returned to Raventree hall. 

Willem Blackwood had announced to the room, bursting at the seams with leagues of angry Blackwood men, that their King consort had granted them leave to do whatever necessary to bring the Brackens to their knees. To destroy their alliance with the Greens and join the right side of history, pledge their allegiance to the true Queen Rhaenyra. 

At first, like all the other men and boys in the room, Davos was excited. He was practically shaking in elation, itching with adrenaline, ready to storm Stone Hedge.

To make the Brackens pay once and for all. 

He imagined some sort of battle would come from the ordeal. They would go head to head once more, fight like they always had with the other house, bring them to their knees for their Queen. It would be bloody, but the potential violence against their long-time rivals was customary, expected at this point. Or maybe they'd ransack some houses along the border. Burn a sept or two, destroy some of the more important harvest fields the Bracken's relied more heavily on.  

That is what he expected to come from Daemon Targaryen's indirect orders.

But no, there would be no fighting this time. Not exactly. 

They were to exploit the Brackens weak points.

To poke repeatedly at their sore spots until they finally admitted defeat, desperate to have returned what was stolen from them. 

Davos Blackwood did not expect to have his weak point threatened as well. 

But alas, it was. His weakest point, by the name of Miss Lady Y/N Bracken, was in grave danger, and she had no idea.

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

It was an unlikely friendship that bloomed when the two were young, still green and ignorant to the centuries of history between the houses they came from.

A young Davos was practicing archery down by the border stones, unaware the large rocks were truly meant for something other than the simple job of being large rocks in the middle of the open field. He was only told never to cross them by his father... who had also told him never to wander near to them unaccompanied. 

Nevertheless, here the young Blackwood stood, a crudely made target propped up against one of the stones, alone.

He pulled back the string, one eye closed, preparing to loose the arrow. His last arrow.

Maybe this one would actually hit the target. Every shot had found purchase on the fabric at least, just out along the outer border. 

He held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he let go. 

The boys eyes flew open at the sound of a high pitched squeal and the frantic rustling of leaves, like an animal caught in a bush. He soon realized that his last arrow hadn't hit the target at all, but instead flew over the stone entirely and landed somewhere in the woods on the opposite side of the border.

Had he hit an animal? Had he been such a nuisance at archery, but his luck so spectacular, he managed to miss the target by a mile yet make his first kill?

Davos was still for a moment, if he crossed the border to find the animal, his father would surly be angry with him for his disobedience, but would he be proud enough his young son managed to strike an animal that the punishment would be forgotten? 

Surely his father would be more angry when he found his son's quiver one arrow short, and even angrier when it was explained how and where it was lost. 

But just as the toe of his boot made it across the border, the rustling of the leaves returned. 

What if he hadn't killed the beast with his misfire at all? What if he had only awoken it from it's slumber, and the beast he now wished he had paid more attention to when his father and uncle spoke of the miscreants on the other side of the border was angry and on the hunt for him. 

But, rather than some large hairy creature lumbering out from the bushes, eyes glowing and drooling with bloodlust for the one who dared disturb it, he was met with a young girl. A child of his age, if not a year or two younger--it was hard to tell with the distance which still separated the two children. The baby fat, still stubbornly hanging onto the girls cheeks, didn't help either. 

She emerged slowly, eyes curious and cautious as she scanned the area before her. Back and forth, left and right, eyes hungrily eating up each and every inch of the grass, hoping to find where the wayward arrow had come from. 

Finally her gaze found his own and he found himself calling his father a liar for the first time in his life. 

She was no beast, surely there couldn't be evil creatures over there as he had said. She was far too pretty for his father's claims to be true. She looked like something divined straight from the gods themselves. 

Her hair was tangled and sweaty where the strands had fallen loose around her face, released from the intricate braided style on the back of her head. The courtly dress draped over her figure, torn and dirty at the sleeves and rips along the bottom of the skirt with mud caked in the lower fabric as if she had been running wild through the trees. A wooden practice sword lay loosely in her hand, his lost arrow held in the other. 

She may not have been perfect to everyone, but she was to him. 

She moved forward, walking slowly, making sure to glance from side to side every few steps, ensuring the two of them were the only ones in sight. She finally stopped a couple of paces before him, she raised the arrow playfully, "I believe you may've missed your target."

"Did not." he shot back immediately, kicking himself for a little for his hastiness, but too proud to let a pretty girl think he had messed up that horribly. 

She smirked, shifting slightly on her feet, "Really?" 

"Really."

"So this is not your arrow?"

"Nope."

She hummed, looking down to the obviously hand-made and well-used projectile. The body bent in a continuous curve from over use and harsh slices in the wood from where a dull knife had been used to widdle it down. She played with the feathers on the end, running the soft material between her fingers, "You sure?" 

"Positive."

She looked up, catching the gaze of the boy just an inch or two shorter than herself, "You know I can see your bow right?" she lulled, unimpressed, "No matter how hard you attempt to shift yourself in front of it, I can still see it peeking over your shoulder." she slid around the stone separating the two, leaning down to compare the arrow with the ones firmly lodged in his target, "Not to mention the arrows are from the same bunch."

Davos stayed silent, eyes narrowed at the beautiful and strange girl before him, determined not to give in.

Perhaps if he was stubborn enough, she would forget the accusation like the maids that walked the halls at Raventree did. They always gave up before too long, scurrying off back to their duties when they'd catch him doing something he wasn't meant to. 

"Well alright then," the girl shrugged carelessly, returning to her full height, no longer crouched down on her knees, "Its probably for the best these aren't yours anyway. Shoddy craftsmanship," she spoke, caressing the wood once again, "I fear a blind man may have done a better job-"

"Hey!" he cut her off, stomping forward and ripping the arrow from her gentle grip, "I spent an entire moon on these!" 

"So it is yours then?" she questioned softly, a winning smirk pulled across her face. 

Davos could feel heat rush to his cheeks, quickly causing him to hang his head, eyes focused on the pebbles sown between the blades of grass below his feet. He already embarrassed himself enough in front of this girl, he didn't need her to see his skin flush a deep crimson as well. "No."

The two children stood before each other in an awkward silence. Both not sure what exactly to say, but neither wanting to leave just yet. 

She made the first move, stepping forward and coming to a stop beside him. No longer facing the boy head-on, but rather positioned so both were looking in the direction of the target. 

"So," she began, "how'd you manage to shoot so far off anyway?" 

"'m not good at it yet" he mumbled, face still stubbornly pointed down, "'S why I'm practicin'."

"Well, try again." 

He looked up at her confused, the flush finally fading from his skin, "What?" 

"Try again" she shrugged. "You have your arrow back, so try again." 

He sputtered, about to tell the girl off for telling him what to do, but the look in her eyes made him think twice. She was so sure of herself, so determined. He couldn't leave her there like a coward, he'd already made a fool of himself, it's not like it could be any worse. 

But he was wrong.

It could be worse.

The second he let the arrow loose, it failed to hit the target again, stopping about a foot short of the stone, stuck in the grass. 

She snorted, a hand flying up to her face to conceal the noise to the best of her ability, "Do you even know how to shoot?" 

He scoffed, turning to fix her with a nasty glare, "Of course I do."

"'Ya sure?" she smiled, "Doesn't really look like it from where I'm standing" 

His glare hardened, "And what do you know of it? You're just a girl." 

She nodded once, stepping forward to retrieve the arrow from the grass as well as the one from the target, "Maybe, but my older brother has been teaching me for years." she spoke returning to his side with a grin, "And I like to think I'm quite good." 

Davos only laughed. Like a girl would ever be allowed near a weapon, there was even less of a chance one would know how to use it. 

"I'm not jesting" she insisted, eyes narrowing in annoyance, "I do know how!"

"Sure," he laughed again, shoving the bow into her hands, "Give it a shot then, why don't you." 

"Fine." she dropped one of the arrows to the floor, shoulder-checking the shorter boy as she lined herself up with the target. 

It took her all of five seconds to load the arrow, align the point, and shoot.

And she hit the fucking center of the target too. 

She turned to face him and crossed her arms over her chest, the bow held in the crook of her elbow, with a smug smirk, "Believe me now?" 

"Whatever."

"Ok," she shuffled back to him, offering the bow back, "Your turn." 

He picked the arrow up and aimed, he was about to let go when-

"Stop!" she shouted, quickly moving behind him. "Don't be so tense" she scolded, poking him in the back, "Your elbow is too high," she moved it down slightly "You use it to help aim, it doesn't always need to be completely level." She kicked the inside of his feet next, "Widen your posture, your feet are too close. It'll mess up your balance and aim." 

"Are you done?" he gritted out, teeth clenching hard against each other. His arm began to ache, straining from the tension while she twirled in circles around him, giving him a whole explanation for each detail he had wrong. 

"Almost" She laughed softly, moving to stand over his left shoulder, "Just two more things" He groaned again, but she only giggled soft at his impatience, "Keep your eyes open. It doesn't have to be both if that's uncomfortable but keep at least one. Shooting blind is practically a death sentence. Lastly, just remember to breathe." she stated simply, "Holding your breath will lock up your muscles. Be fluid, not rigid." he nodded once, relatively relaxed bar the shaking of his tired arm on the string. "Good. Now shoot." 

He let go, and watched the whole way as the arrow soared through the air, hitting the target with a satisfying 'thunk'. It didn't hit the center like hers, but it was the closest he'd come thus far, landing on the inside of the ring just off-center. 

She jumped in excitement, clapping happily as she did so, "See! You did it!" 

"I didn't." he grumbled, "It still didn't hit the center."

"No, but it's closer" she spoke, excitement for the boy still heavy on her tongue, "All you need is some practice."  She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly, "You'll get there one day." 

He hummed unconvinced, he'd been practicing for almost a year at this point, and only now was he told what he was doing wrong. He doubted he'd ever master the art of archery but that was alright with him. He'd become more skilled with the sword during his training and found he enjoyed the blade over long-range anyway. 

Feeling her job complete, the arrow returned and an impromptu lesson to keep more from disturbing her peace, the girl nodded once and smiled at the boy, turning to cross back over the boundary and lift the practice sword she had abandoned on the other side. 

She was about to walk away, disappearing back into the thicket when Davos finally shook himself from his thoughts. "Wait!" he ran after her, quickly catching up to her and grabbing her wrist, "I'm Davos. Davos Blackwood." he introduced himself, annoyed he'd forgotten to do so earlier. 

She smiled, "Y/N Bracken." 

The two explored the underbrush for hours that day, picking through the bushes for berries and telling stories to one another. He soon found out her strange state of dress, was because Y/N had fled from the hall halfway through their meal. She ran, quickly escaping after overhearing her father and some lord discussing her betrothal. It would never go through of course, the Lord too upsettened by the girl's wild display to continue the conversation. 

She had fled through the hall, one of her brother's practice swords in hand and clumsily hitting the trees with it, hoping she could somehow teach herself to use the weapon so that her future would never need to be in the hands of another again. 

Upon hearing the story, he quickly offered his guidance to her, promising to bring two swords to the clearing the next day as long as she would bring better archery equipment. She would teach him the art of the bow, and he would show her the ways of the blade. 

Through their lessons with one another, they would ultimately come to the conclusion she preferred archery and he preferred steel, but both became skilled in the two practices nonetheless. 

Lessons slowly turned to practice, and practice turned to sparring until sparring gradually turned to something more over the years. 

Stolen kisses were shared in the shade of the branches. Words of affection whispered along the tall grass. Purple bruises and love bites exchanged under the cover of night and the watchful eye of the stars, easily concealed under the collars of their shirts. 

They hadn't begun knowing how divided they were due to their names, but even when they discovered it, they found the years of hatred between the houses hardly held a candle to the feelings they harbored for one another.

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Fear flooded his veins when the words changed from those of violence against the men and soldiers, to violence against the women. Violence against the children. Violence against her.

"It is clear that our forces no longer intimidate them," a man decorated in silver plated armor called from the crowd, "how are we to persuade them, as you say, if they no longer listen?" 

"We shall change our tactics" a dark smirk slowly formed across Willem's face as he spoke to his men, "The crown allows us grace to do what is necessary to gain the allegiance of the Brackens." the name left his lips with a sneer, as if saying the name itself caused him pain, "So, perhaps we move our gaze from those who've come to expect us." 

The excitement of the room changed from one of violent delight, to one of lustful rage. All men in the room, old and young alike, seemed to understand what was implied from the words of both their Lord and their King. All bets were off tonight, they were to take whatever—and whoever—they wished, just as long as it pushed the Brackens to surrender by morning light.

Davos stayed frozen upon the stairs while his Uncle spoke, and the men cheered before them. Many of which, boasting clearly of the prize they wished to gain. The prize that would give them pleasure that night, as well as potential favor with their Lord and Crown. The bargaining chip above all else, the very soul that would surely break the camel's back. 

For if Y/N, Lord Bracken's most favored and precious daughter, were to be stolen and sullied, the Bracken people would surely be broken as well. Surrender would be all but guaranteed. 

That's how he found himself sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him, subtly kicking rocks and twigs under the feet of his bannermen. Anything to slow them down. Anything that would allow him to get in front of them. Anything that would allow him to be the one that would reach her first. 

He'd heard the way they spoke about her. The things they wished to do to her. It all but made his blood boil, the urge to remove their tongues—or perhaps their manhood—was strong. It was what they deserved for speaking about his lady in such a matter. 

Yet he couldn't. He didn't care for his own safety, if he were to be hanged for defending his lady love's honor, he would do it a million times over. But the fact that the outcome on her could be worse if he were to confess, is what held him back.

He couldn't do anything in the bright lights of Raventree Hall, but if anyone were to come between his blade and his lady now, he cared not for what would become of them.

He'd kill a thousand Blackwoods if he must tonight. No one was going to touch her. 

When finally made it into the halls of Stone Hedge, he was out of breath and his lungs were burning. His breaths quick and labored as he gulped for air, but he couldn't stop until he knew she was safe. 

The words they levied against her echoed in his ears, filling him with a blinding rage that powered him forward, allowing the pain in his bones to evaporate from his mind. 

They spoke of her as if she were a piece of meat and nothing more. The beautiful Bracken girl ripe for the taking. The forbidden apple that was all but theirs for tonight. They spoke of how they wished to deflower her. To take her maidenhead, rip it away from her and claim it for themselves. "it's what we deserve after all the Brackens have done." he remembered hearing one say, "We deserve this." 

They didn't deserve shit. Hell, there were days Davos himself didn't believe he deserved her, if he didn't, then there was no way in hell they did. 

He tore through the halls, the anger in his soul bright enough to light the way. He abandoned his torch once he made it inside so none of the other men would be able to follow his trial. 

The screams began soon after he reached the second floor. The hushed symphony of horrific melodies carrying up the stairs and echoing down the stone halls, ebbing in on the wind through the windows of the keep, tempting Davos’ heart to beat faster in it's rhythm. 

The Blackwoods had begun their raid. He was running out of time. 

He cursed her in his mind, his beautiful girl more cautious than he, convincing him that their escapades should be confined to the secrecy the fields and forests provided. He had tried to persuade her to sneak into one of their homes, claiming she deserved the luxury and privacy of one of their bedrooms over his cloak on the harsh terrain. So she could feel the soft feather bed and furs beneath her back rather than the rough sticks and stones scratching her bare skin through the thin fabric. She always declined, arguing the need to keep their love in a place that matched that of which it was sewn from. Somewhere wild, free, and pure. 

He always laughed along with her, choosing to ignore the fear that gathered in the corners of her eyes. He knew the real reason, she was afraid they’d lose one another if they were to enter the enemy's halls, that they’d be caught and torn apart forever. So, he just laughed along and agreed full heartedly, dropping the idea so his girl could return to her usual carefree spirit. So her worries would be carried off on the chilled evening breeze, set ablaze in the light of the setting sun.

He lived for her, and if it was her wishes to stay confined in the bugs and dirt, he’d happily oblige without a complaint, even if he ended up with cuts along his palms, skin pierced by the rocks his cloak couldn’t cover as he hovered over her body in the foliage. 

But now, he was running through the large keeps halls, throwing open the doors of guestroom after guestroom in the residency hall. Panic increasing for each empty room revealed.

If she just let him come in once, if she allowed him to climb up the wall and through the window like he’d joked one evening, he’d know exactly where to go. 

Davos finally approached the last room in the hall, still no luck in finding her room. The voices of his men had increased, finally making their way to the level he stood.

And for the first time in years, Davos found himself praying. 

He wasn’t a particularly religious man and he hadn't been since his mother had ceased dragging him out weekly to worship the gods. He found himself finding solace in the heart trees for their beauty rather than religion and becoming more devout to the sword than the gods. But now, outside the heavy wooden door, he found himself praying quietly under his breath. To both the God’s he’d turned his back on and the ones she treasured. He prayed to both the Old gods and the new, that his own goddess would be sound and safe behind this very door.  

“Please” he whispered, “I know I haven’t been the most… pious over the years. I know I haven’t followed the rules you have set for the people” he laughed bitterly, “In fact, there were times I blatantly went against you just because I could. But please” he begged, feeling a burning form in the corners of his eyes, “please, I beg you, have her be behind this door. She doesn't deserve what's coming if I don't find her first. I may not believe you exist, but she does. Please don’t fail her now.” 

He rammed his shoulder into the door, the lock giving way after two sturdy blows, swinging open to reveal yet another dark, empty room. 

His heart stopped, split between the feeling of devastation and unadulterated rage. The emotions clawing their way up his throat, threatening to drown him if he didn’t release them soon. 

There had to be a mistake, she had to be here. Was he already too late? Had someone somehow managed to get ahead of him and steal her away before he arrived? It couldn’t be, he was the one to break the lock and sneak around the watch in the front of the keep. 

He wanted to scream. To curse the Gods, curse his uncle, curse himself.

But he couldn’t.

Instead, he punched the door frame, knuckles slamming into the stones and splitting open the thin skin from the force. A muffled curse left his lips, not loud enough to reveal himself to the men beginning their descent on the hall, but loud enough to reveal a sliver of the emotions pent up and burning its way through his veins. 

He was yanking at the strands of his tousled and sweaty black hair, pacing the area outside the open door. Mind racing as he contemplated what exactly he was meant to do next. 

But then he heard it. His saving grace. A muffled sound, a soft mumble coming from inside the bedroom followed by the quiet ruffling of sheets.

Davos whipped around, neck straining under the speed of which he snapped to face the inside of the chamber. There, he found it, shrouded in the shadows and tucked beneath the covers was a lump, with her beautiful, wild hair peeking out and laid upon the pillowcases.

He rushed into the room, slamming the door and bolting it behind him. 

It was the heavy slam that finally roused her from her sleep. She sat up in her bed, the white sheets falling down and resting over her legs as she did. She squinted into the darkness, unable to make out who it was but able to see the figure posted inside her room, the moonlight catching on the metal armor adorning the man before her. 

It was normal for a maid to come into her room, accidentally wake her in the later hours as they entered her chambers to gather things they had unknowingly left behind earlier in the day. It was strange for a knight or watchman to enter, on the eve of a gathering or a feast at the keep where her father had invited many guests a guard may be placed outside her rooms but never inside. 

“Sir?” she spoke, voice soft and confused, roughed slightly by sleep, “What is—” 

She wasn’t able to finish her question in full before the man hurtled himself at her. In a panicked haste she reached to her bedside, reaching for the heavy silver candle holder on the table, whacking the man repeatedly when he became close enough. 

“Fuck!” the man yelled, stepping back when she jumped up from the bed, swinging the candle holder before her. He reached up, one hand poorly acting as a shield before him while the other went to his brow, touching the now split skin from where she managed to strike him.

“Damn you woman” he yelled half playful and half serious, a proud smirk resting on his lips despite himself. Maybe his love didn’t need him to protect her after all. “I’m just tryin’ to help you!”

Y/N dropped the candlestick in an instant, immediately recognizing the voice that often found its way into her dreams and day to day thoughts, “Davos?” she whispered, now rushing forward, pulling him down by the neck to get a better look at the gash she’d made. “Gods, I’m so so sorry” she muttered, delicate fingers running over his brow bone and assessing the damage in the dim light provided by the moon, so focused on Davos’ injury, she failed to notice the soft smile tugging at his lips, ���you–you just startled me. I’m not exactly expecting visitors in the middle of the night.” her brow crinkled in confusion, wiping away a streak of mud on his forehead and brushing through the sweat-soaked hair falling over his forehead, “And why on Earth do you look like you crawled through the riverbeds to get here?” 

He laughed, exhausted and relieved to see her standing before him. Davos reached out, grasping her elbows softly, proving to himself she was real. That he did make it in time after all. “I mean, not exactly, but that's close enough.”

She stepped back, eyes wide as saucers. Her sleep muddled mind, finally beginning to catch up with what was going on. Part of her thought it was all part of some strange dream, getting attacked in the late hours and suddenly her forbidden lover is standing before her in her bedroom. 

But it wasn’t a dream. This was real. So what in the seven hells is he doing here?

“You can’t be here!” she whispered harshly, “I–What? Davos, you need to go.” she sputtered rushing to open the door and shove him out, ushering him back off to raventree, “My father could–” 

He reached out, catching her wrist and yanking her back away from the door harsh enough her back crashed into his chest. 

“What–” 

“Stop.” he cut her off, spinning Y/N around so they faced one another, “You can’t open the door.” 

Her eyes grew even wider at his words, fear slipping into her gaze and he hated himself for being the one to put it there, “Why not?” a crash erupted not far down the hall, the sound of one of the vases clattering and shattering down onto the floor followed by a group of men, maybe three or four at least, cackling. She jumped, clinging onto his arms, her grip tight and nails cutting into his skin, “Davos? What’s happening? What’s going on?”

He looked anxiously up at the door as the footsteps grew louder, shifting Y/N and holding onto her with one arm while the other drifted to hold the pommel of his sword, “It’s a long story.” 

“Care to share the summary then?” she bit out at him, but her words were less harsh than she intended, the fear coating the statement making it far less intimidating than she’d prefer. 

“You’re in danger.” 

“Well, yeah, I kinda gathered that.” 

“This is the only one we haven’t checked,” they heard a deep voice say from through the wooden door. “Ya’ think its this one?”

“It’s gotta be” another spoke, tone giddy in a horrific kind of excitement, “It’s the last on the hall, surely the Bracken Brat is in here.” 

Davos spun on his heel, looking into her eyes with such intensity Y/N was unsure if she wanted to run or drop to her knees, “I have an idea. I need you to play along.” she nodded immediately, she trusted him with her life. Davos smiled softly, leaning down to place a long, tender kiss on her forehead, “Just remember I love you, ok? I’ll explain later, I promise.” she nodded once more, lifting on her toes to place a soft kiss on his cheek. 

His gaze hardened a harsh sneer screwing up his features, the grip he held on her wrist tightening, “Stop struggling! I already told you, you can’t worm your way out of this one Bracken.” 

Y/N turned, swiping her arm across her vanity, a collection of glass jars and pots tumbling from the surface and crashing to the floor, “No!” she screamed, “I won’t! You can’t make me!”

The noise from the hall silenced, and both Y/N and Davos smiled. It was working. 

“Oh,” he laughed darkly, walking her closer to the door, both of them taking turns at shoving the furniture to fake the struggle, “I most definitely can–”

“My father–”

“Fuck your father” he sneered, reaching up and helping her mess up her hair further than the slight bedhead she still had, and stretching out the neck of her pale nightgown. He then grabbed her robe, throwing it haphazardly over one of her shoulders, “He can’t help you now, the Blackwoods are taking our revenge. The Brackens will finally fall once and for all.” and with that he swung open the door, tightening his grip on her wrists to drag her through the door frame. 

“What’s this?” Y/N laughed, overexaggerating her breathing to further fake the strain of the struggle as she faced the four men outside her door, “Is Willem Blackwood's little nephew so incompetent they needed to send four men just to make sure he could get the job done?” she snarked, trying to pull herself out of Davos’ grip. 

He growled, spinning her around and yanking her back against his chest, caging the girl in with his arms tight around her waist and arms. “What do you want?” he spoke, ignoring Y/N and looking directly at the men. 

“We were coming to get her,” One spoke up, gesturing at the girl with his sword, “but it seems we missed all the fun.” 

“Nah,” another added, stepping forward gleefully and running a hand over Y/N’s hair, “he just caught her, we can still get a turn later boys.” he smirked cruelly, dirty fingers dropping down to caress her soft skin. 

Y/N shifted at the Blackwood soldier's words, glancing up and seeing the expressions of sick joy on the other’s faces at his statement.

So this is why Davos had broken into her room. She could hear the sounds of what could be happening to her from the maids down the stairs, but no, Davos had reached her first. 

She moved slightly, subtly pushing more of her weight against his chest, seeking comfort in the small gestures, that he wouldn’t let that happen to her. He gripped her tighter when she did, to both assure her she would always be safe with him, and to keep him from relieving the men before them of their heads. 

“It’s just a shame young Davos beat us,” the youngest of them, a man looking to be in his late thirties, whined, “I had plans of all the ways I wanted to take her and ruin her for the first time. See her scream as I–”

“No.” Davos grit out, cutting the man off swiftly, clenching his jaw harshly between his words and a glare that could cut through iron shifting among the four men “None of that will be happening. She is mine. She is my prize for tonight.” 

“But–”

“No!” he yelled, sneering at the men, “I am the nephew of Lord Blackwood, you will not disobey me and my claim. I fought and won her. I claimed her. She is mine. My prisoner and I am not keen on sharing.” 

Y/n did her best to keep up the act. To keep the look of fear and anger on her face and struggle to get out of his grip. But something about those words and his tone of voice made her melt inside. She knew they weren’t all true, she wasn't a prisoner, but something about the way he proclaimed her as his made her think it wasn’t far from his true feelings. 

“I will be the one taking her back to Raventree. Go find something else. You will not be laying a single finger on her, am I clear?” The four men begrudgingly nodded their heads, walking back down the hall with wounded egos.

Davos “dragged” Y/n all the way through Stone Hedge and back out the main door. He found an abandoned horse not far from the gate and quickly helped her up on the saddle. 

“You’re really taking me to Raventree?” Y/n whispered as he too, hauled himself on the horse, settling behind her. His arms wrapped around her to grasp the reins. 

“Well I kinda have to” he responded playfully, words hushed into her ear, his breaths tickling her skin, “Wouldn’t make much sense for me to take a prisoner and release her that quickly now would it?” 

“So that’s all I am to you huh?” she hummed as they made their way through the trees, the cold night air pebbling her skin through the sheer nightwear, “just a prisoner?” 

He leaned down, kissing her shoulder, “Nah, you're much more than that.” 

“You sure?” 

Davos bit at her ear, watching with a smirk as she shivered, one she’d surely claim was from the cold, “I’m Positive.” 

They reveled in the moment of relief and playful joy that encompassed them on the journey back. They both knew it wouldn’t be before long when the reality of the situation would set in. The fear would return to her bones and he would need to fully explain in detail what was going on. They would need to come up with a plan on how to move forward. 

But for now, it was just the two of them riding through their forest on horseback. 

Davos swore he would be there for her when it came time for her to shatter. When she would feel safe enough to cry for the fate of her people who couldn’t be saved as she had once they found their way to his chambers for the night, and however many after Y/N Bracken was to be a “prisoner” at Raventree.

He swore that when she broke into millions of tiny pieces, he would be there with hands ready to bleed as he held her tight and helped put all the shards back together in the intricate puzzle that was her soul. 

He would always be there for her. He would always protect her.

He swore it upon the old gods and the new.

[the-fiction-witch]

I Like Him P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - (OC) Jaerra Targaryen [Daughter of Daemon Targaryen & Rhea Royce] Rating - 15 Word Count - 1119

Jaerra followed her father and Lord Oscar out into the fallen godswood of Harenhall where the riverloads had gathered below a cold grey sky. She sat on a large piece of stone that littered the courtyard, as Daemon paced Oscar pacing around him going to toe to toe with Daemon.

"In the deepest darkness comes the dawn... a new lord... a new beginning," Daemon explained, "Let us put all the old unpleasantness behind this,"

Tension bubbled as lords looked between each other,

Oscar spoke up, "Be Welcome my lords, and you have my thanks for answering my summons," he explained his voice raising as he spoke finding his firm voice large enough to address the crowd of lords, "I know I am not the man my grandser was... but I hope to begin well and go on from there."

"Well said." Daemon added, "One thing is clear, the river men honour the old ways and abide by tradition, here then is tradition Grover Tully is dead, Lord Oscar raised up in his place, and you have been summoned here to swear anew your fealty to him. And as his bannermen answer his call!"

"And what would that call be?" a River lord asked,

"In his wisdom, he has pledged his house and yours to me," Daemon answered before Lord Oscar could speak.

"Lord Osacar, for generations we have been guided by the judgement of your forebears, why now should we follow a boy younger then my own sons? When you will align with one... who will desecrate the innocent to reach his aims." Lord Piper asked,

"I did only what was necessary! My lord." Willem Blackwood spoke up, "And I now deliver to you the traitor Amos Bracken and his son."

"No more a traitor to his lands than you Willem Blackwood!"

"I take to heart your words, lord Piper." Oscar broke up the fight before it began, "And I agree, I am young... and I have no love for Daemon Targaryen," Oscar glared at Daemon, briefly his eyes met Jaerra and he went to speak but he continued on, "he has dishonoured himself and the crown with his... comportment here. Nevertheless having so little experience to guide me... my best course is to defer to the oath my grandsire sword to King Viserys when he named Rhaynera Targaryen his heir, I see no reason to cast aside loyalty... no matter how loathsome I... may find her representative the prince."

"King." Daemon glared,

"Consort," Jaerra added,

"Mind your young boy." Daemon glared at Oscar ignoring Jaerra's comment,

"Will you have our army or not?" Oscar asked making his way to Daemon,

Daemon didn't answer,

"I am in the end a Riverman," Oscar said as he walked away, "And the word of my house stands, even if ... some people are unworthy of it."

"Your lord Oscar is bold. But he is... perhaps not wrong, I may have been a touch... enthusiastic in pursuing my aims." Daemon explained as he paced once more. "But don't allow my failings, to keep you from supporting... an upright...man."

"My lord Oscar we honor the old ways, as Prince Daemon says, and the old ways call for justice to be done." The lady of a house spoke up,

"Yes. Justice has been done." Willem protested, "They who bent the knee to the usurper have been brought to heal! And now we unite... before our liege lord and our king consort," Willem pulled his sword and bent the knee offering his blade,

Oscar moved closer and held his hands to the man's offer, "I accept you as my vassal Lord Blackwood... but" he moved away, "I am lord paramount of all river houses, and there is... only one punishment for the crimes you visited upon your neighbours,"

"I did only as his grace, the king! Commanded of me."

"True... but he laid bare his base desires. But you did not have to pursue such savagery," Oscar explained, "You did it. Because you wanted to."

"Our young lord speaks truly," Lord Piper added,

"Seize him," Oscar commanded,

And the Harrenhall men came and took Willem Blackwood by the arms,

"You can't fucking do this... your grace commands them. I have only served you!"

"If his grace wishes to show contrition for his acts and to prove himself deserving of our banners, he must now rectify his grievous error." Oscar explained, "Denounce your crimes," he tells Willem, "And dispense justice."

Willen argued and tried to fight his way out,

"Oh dear..." Lord Strong muttered,

Daemon took a moment to think, and Jaerra watched him closely as he began to move and draw his sword,

"You're grace I've been faithful!" Willem begged,

But with a fast and simple swing, Willem's head was removed from his body, Daemon made his way inside with Lord Strong following, and the river lords slowly left to make their arrangements. But Oscar loomed longer.

Jaerra pushed herself off the rock and made her way over to him, "You handled them..."

"Have I just sent my lords to die?" He asked,

"...Yes," she nodded, "But that's war."

"True," He sighed, "I should have done it..."

"Done it?"

"Given out the sentence."

"Daemon is the one who doomed him long before you did,"

"...I- I admit, I have... not..."

"Look." Jaerra told him, "Long and hard, he is not the first man put to the sword in this war, and he shall far from be the last. Grow used to it now."

"You speak as if you have been to war a thousand times, we have been lucky to be born with only peace."

"Daemon is my father," She reminds,

"That is enough of an answer," He chuckled, "Forgive me, Princess-"

Jaerra scoffed, "Even calling me lady is a formality. It is not needed My Lord Tully." She nodded before she made her way towards the doors,

"Jaerra!"

She turned on her heels, "Yes Oscar?"

"... I find your father loathsome. Utterly so." He explained,

"As many do," she chuckled,

"But... truly, that does not extend to you." He said, "Not even slightly"

Jaerra smiled, "Thank you, and know that I to have no such feelings for you, I think we somewhat think the same of my father."

"I... I must ask, are you remaining here?"

"I am," she nodded, "I shall remain until my queen demands me elsewhere,"

"I- I hope she doesn't demand you, too soon."

"Neither do I," Jaerra agreed, "You shall remain?"

"Yes. With my men." He nodded, "I will set up tent with my men,"

"A tent?" she chuckled, "Should the lord not be in the castle?"

"I thought it may be mess damp in the tent." Oscar joked,

"You may be right," Jaerra laughed, "But not proper for a Liege lord to tent with his men. I will see what can be found for you Oscar."

"Thank you Jaerra," he nodded,

She smiled and headed inside the castle. 

Tags - @llynx7

[waterfae]

Kill My Lord Husband [Part 2]

Summary: Your father has decided to marry you off – and to a Blackwood no less! But you want nothing to do with the famously known Bloody Ben, not when your heart already belongs to another. Your solution? Kill your lord husband.

Pairings: Benjicot “Davos” Blackwood x Reader, Aeron Bracken x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, adult language, slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, arranged marriage, house-neutral fem!reader, no use of Y/N, absolute nonsense, no beta

Word Count: 1.9+ K

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

|| General Masterlist || House of the Dragon Masterlist ||

Benjicot continued to quietly observe you, even as Atlanna marched up to pluck you from his arms and steer you towards the rest of the family where you were greeted by Lady Blackwood and Lady Alysanne. Now and then, you would do the same, catching his eyes several more times before quickly looking away after each occurrence, heat rising to your cheeks. A familiar feeling. A cursed feeling. The persistent fluttering within your stomach only further made you feel as though you were burning up from the inside – from sinful hellfire, you decided.

Atlanna caught the flushed look on your features and whispered with a knowing smile, “At least he is pleasing to look upon.”

“It is not a good thing.” You whined in reply, although it was a lie. Who wouldn’t want to have a husband that was delightful to look at and he was indeed a handsome one, but he was not Aeron; you didn’t want him to be pleasing.

His gaze lingered. You could feel the heat of it as you were led towards the castle and ushered into the dining hall for dinner. It lingered still after Atlanna left you to be seated while the servants brought out various dishes to set onto the table. With great effort, you ignored his attentions and withheld your own. It had taken you by surprise, the initial reaction to your betrothed as he held you in his arms. You had felt that jolt only once before; for only one man before. It was jarring. It disgusted you – made you sick with guilt. You pushed the feelings away, just as you pushed the boiled potatoes about your plate. You wanted to hate this man. You needed to hate this man.

“She looks even more like her mother than the last I saw her.” Lady Blackwood’s comment pulled you out from the swarming thoughts of your husband-to-be. You looked up from your plate and smiled politely at the compliment; one you were frequently given.

“Indeed, she does.” Your father said beaming at you as he patted your hand lovingly, “My late wife would have been so proud – so happy to see our families united.”

“You are blessed by the gods.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at Lord Blackwood’s latest remark, unable to control the impulse and catching your actions too late; you hoped no one had noticed. “Fuck the gods.” Was your following thought. You hadn’t believed in the gods since your mother died six years ago; not really – just enough to still have anger towards them. And considering your current predicament, you most certainly believed in them a sufficient amount to be just as – if not more – resentful.

As the evening wore on, bellies grew full and people shifted their seats in favor of conversations. Lord and Lady Blackwood continued to discuss with your father about the upcoming nuptials. Ser Willem and Lady Alysanne bickered over the superiority between his sword and her arrows with Benjicot cutting in as it became more heated to claim his own caliber to be greater than that of his aunt and uncle. Eventually, you found yourself leaving yours to wander over to the balcony, finding no common subject matter to insert yourself.

The clouds above were just as thick as when you arrived, blocking out most of the light from the moon, yet still from where you stood, regardless of the dimly-lit night, you were able to make out the ancient weirwood you had only ever heard stories about; colossal in its size with hundreds of ravens perched against its branches.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Came a voice suddenly from behind. It startled and urged you to search for the speaker. You found Benjicot slowly making his way forward until he was beside you, leaning against the balustrade. “Despite it not having shown a single leaf for nearly a thousand years.” His eyes stayed fixed on the giant, “Poisoned by House Bracken.”

“It certainly is a wonder.” You replied shakily, your heart wrenching at the mention of the Brackens.

“We shall be wed there. Before the old gods.” He said, finally straightening himself to face you, “But you do not seem to believe in the gods.” Benjicot stated it rather than asked.

Your eyebrows raised at his statement. It appeared your reaction earlier at dinner had not gone unnoticed. Had he really still been watching you at that moment? You wondered. His attention span was remarkable, “It’s not that I don’t believe, because I do.” You paused to heave a sigh, “Enough for them to anger me.”

He let out a low laugh, “Do they?” He took a step towards you, “You don’t seem angry.” He scanned your face, searching for what, you weren’t sure, but the look on his was one that hinted at nostalgia, “Annoyed, perhaps, but angry? No.” He shook his head with feigned disappointment, then suddenly smirked, “I’ve seen you angry.”

You sent him a questioning glance.

Before you could voice the query, he explained, “Years ago, I participated in a tourney held by Lord Tully for his nameday. You and your father were there. It was the first time I heard mother and father bring up a marriage between our houses, but your mother had just passed and your father too distraught. Out of friendship and respect, they didn’t pursue the issue further.”

You were taken aback, shocked that as early as then there had already been plans to attempt a match between the two of you; there was never any mention of it before.

“Such a pretty thing, even then.” He added softly, your mouth went dry and gulped as he took another step forward, towering over you, “Prettier all the more when you knocked that Bracken off his feet.” He flashed an amused smile, “Such rage.”

Your jaw fell open as Benjicot continued to speak of it, the memory of that particular time rushing back to the forefront of your mind and it clicked; you knew the exact event he was referring too. That had been the day you first met Aeron – right after you lunged at one of his cousins and struck him over the head with his own helm; retaliation for a remark made about you being half an orphan. Aeron had been the one to pull you off of him and restrain you.

You scrunched up your eyebrows and slowly asked, unsure if you were understanding correctly, “I somehow gained your favor because I was...pretty...and angry?”

He chuckled, “Not so much your anger, but your spirit.” His stormy eyes found yours again and you couldn’t look away, “There was a fire in your eyes and it told me that if my parents wishes were to be fulfilled then you would make an exceptional addition to our house; you were meant to be a Blackwood.”

“You wanted this union?” You breathed as realization hit you.

“I wasn’t against it.”

You suddenly became very aware of how close Benjicot was. Too close. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face and it caused your heart to beat rapidly. You quickly tore your gaze away from his and took a step back, chest heaving, your lungs screaming for air. How long had you been holding your breath?

“I am sorry to inform you, but I am not that girl. Not anymore.” You said in a rush and hoped your words would make him think twice of his opinion of you, “I was young. Still growing, still learning. I’ve matured since then and have become a proper lady.” Distance, you thought as you took another step back, you needed more distance. “I was also grieving for my mother. Not in the right mind. That girl wasn’t – isn’t me. I no longer participate in such uncouth behavior.”

‘I was also not yet in love with Aeron.’ You kept that declaration silently to yourself.

Benjicot tilted his head, studying you for several moments before finally heaving a sigh, “That’s rather unfortunate. For such a flame to burn out.” You noticed him bite his lip before going further, “Mayhaps, overtime, we can reignite it.”

There was something in the way he said it that made your stomach lurch and your head dizzy; you had not even taken another step, yet it still made you stumble. He made a move to try and catch you, but you were able to steady yourself with a nearby pillar, one arm outstretched signaling him to stop and keep the space between you.

“I should retire to my chambers!” You blurted out in a panic.

He blinked at your sudden outburst, “Are you alright, my lady? Have I done something to offend you?”

“I am tired.” You replied while steadying yourself and straightening your skirts, “It has been a very long day.”

“Shall I escort you –”

You cut him off, frantically waving him off with your hands, “No. It’s fine.” You turned on your heel, ready to get as far away from him as possible, “I am capable of finding my own way.”

You weren’t. As soon as you left him on that balcony and bid your father and the Blackwoods good night, you immediately turned the wrong corner exiting the dining hall and had gotten lost. You mentally kicked yourself while you walked around aimlessly for gods know how long, regretful of turning down Benjicot’s offer to escort you to your chambers. You buried your face in your hands at the thought and stomped your foot like a petulant child. As helpful as it might have been to have him, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to withstand another minute. The emotional turbulence, the way your body reacted to his proximity, the things he said and did...it wasn’t love by any means, but it was overwhelming all the same.

“What in the seven hells is wrong with me?!” You asked aloud to no one in particular. In your turmoil, you almost didn’t noticed the brisk footsteps echoing down the hall.

“My lady!” You looked up to find Atlanna scurrying towards you, “There you are!”

Relief washed over you, glad to have been found and not left to wander the halls all night. She stopped in front of you, pausing to catch her breath; she must have been running and searching for you for a long while to be in such a state. You questioned it.

“I was waiting for you in your chambers – unpacking more of your belongings and to help you get ready for bed – when this arrived.” Atlanna held up a piece of parchment, “When you still hadn’t come, I went looking for you. It seemed important.” She scanned the corridor, making sure the two of you were truly alone before whispering, “I think it’s from him.”

For a moment, it felt as though your heart had stopped. You eyed the little scroll in both excitement and fear of what its message may contain. With much hesitation, you accepted and unrolled it. You immediately recognized the handwriting scrawled upon it and a rush of different emotions came to hit you all at once. There was not much to it – the message was very short with simple instructions. You read over his words repeatedly, until you were overcome. You burst into tears without any sort of warning and began to sob violently, shocking Atlanna in the process.

“It’s from Aeron.” You stated the obvious as the tears you held onto for so long finally streamed down your face. Atlanna caught you just as your knees gave way. Unable to carry your weight, she instead guided you to the stone floor. She held tightly onto your trembling form, rocked you from side to side while rubbing your back to soothe you, your cries muffled as you buried your face into her bosom and Aeron’s message crumpled in your tight grip.

a/n: This chapter was getting too long, editing was killing me, and I became too impatient to update. So I broke it up. I made you guys wait too long and simply wanted to serve something. I'm hoping to get the next part out very soon, since it's technically already written. I'm just polishing it up at this point. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open. ♡

I accidentally made myself cry. Woopsies! Aeron will actually show up next chapter. Shenanigans will be had.

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[the-fiction-witch]

The Harrenhal Wedding

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - Y/n Blackwood (Benjicot's Sister) Rating - 15 Word Count - 2952

Requested -

Please make one shot about oscar tully and his fiance ( blackwood) when they meet first time i think that would be really cute

Oscar had been staying at harrenhall since his promotion to lord paramount of the Riverlands, he remains with his river lords as the armies raise and gather. But this morning Lord Simon Strong summons him to the grand hall where lord strong and Prince Daemon sit,

“Morning My lord Strong,” Oscar nodded,

“Morning my lord Tully,” Simon nodded,

“Targaryen,” Oscar snapped in Daemon’s direction,

“Tully.” Daemon glared back,

“What’s all this about anyway?” Oscar asked,

But the door quickly opened to the young Benjicot Blackwood, the new lord of Raventree Hall,

Lord Blackwood stood and bowed,

“My lord Blackwood, a pleasure,” Oscar nodded,

"My Lord Tully, I rode as soon as word reached me .. is it true? My lord uncle? Ser Willem Blackwood, he was executed? Here on your orders?"

“He was, my lord, yes.” Oscar was unflinching with his answer,

"...may I ask why my lord?" He asked,

Oscar sat back in his seat, “Your uncle committed crimes against his neighbours, curel and merciless crimes, his punishment was just. But I do not blame your sadness at this loss.”

lord Blackwood nodded "... I understand, please may I ask his remains be returned to Raventree hall to be laid under our werewood as his forebears?"

Oscar nodded, “Of course, lord Blackwood, I will have them sent to Ravnhall immediately.”

"... please my lord, i- I hope my uncle and his actions, do not sully our families name,"

Oscar shook his head, a slight bit of sympathy in his eyes and tone “You need not worry, my lord” Oscar tried to give the young lord a bit of comfort before speaking again, “His crimes are his own and I assure you his crimes do not sully your house.”

"yes my lord I understand, but... House Blackwood would still like to pledge themselves to your fealty and your war for Queen Rhaynea"

Oscar smiled, standing from his seat and striding over to blackwood, putting a firm hand on the young lords shoulder and speaking in a commanding tone

“That is greatly appreciated my lord,” Oscar nodded, “And I don't have to worry about your loyalty like I did with your uncle, do I?”

"No my lord, and as proof of our loyalty I come with an offer for you."

Oscar raised an eyebrow, slightly amused, his hand still on the boys shoulder “An offer? What kind of offer?”

"... In the riverlands we celebrate our new lord paramount, as much as we grieve your grandfather Ser Grover Tully." Lord Blackwood began "And house blackwood has been loyal to house Tully as our legige lords. And as the new lord of House Blackwood myself I wish to make an offer that would bring great joy and honour on my house as well as faith of our alliance to yours," he nodded "you, yourself Lord Oscar are a young man, unmarried. And I would like to offer my sister Y/n Blackwood to be your bride."

Oscar raised his eyebrows in surprise, slightly taken off guard by the offer. He looked at the young lord for a moment “Your sister.” He thought for a moment before speaking again “She is of age, I presume?”

"yes my lord, she is two years your younger"

Oscar nodded, “And attractive, I'd hope?”

he chuckled "The ravens of raventree hall sing for her, smallfolk of our keep say a beauty like her has not been born in our family since Missy blackwood"

“That's what I like to hear…” Oscar paused for a moment “It's a fine offer, my lord, your sister will make a fine lady of riverrun.. I accept your offer, on one condition.”

“Yes of course, anything my lord,”

“We consummate the marriage as soon as possible.”

"Yes my lord. you - you honour me, my house and my sister. She is with me. You may wed in the sept as soon as you wish and bed her as you see fit. Perhaps the gods shall bless you with a babe in her belly before this war begins its march"

Once again, Oscar was slightly surprised by the young lords quick and eager compliance. He smiled, looking down at the boy, keeping his hand on his shoulder

“The preparations will be made at once... and don't worry, my lord, I'll be filling your sisters belly before the end of the week.”

"we can hope my lord" lord blackwood bowed low

“Very good, my lord.” Oscar smiled, striding back to his seat as the boy left. As the young lord exited the hall, Oscar returned his attention to the prince and Lord Strong who had been watching the pair

“Well, that worked out well.” Lord strong nodded,

Daemon chuckled

Oscar retook his set, looking up at the Prince “What? Got something to say, Targaryen?”

"No man gives his sister away that easily unless there's something wrong with her." Daemon laughed

Oscar chuckled, resting his arms on the table and leaning forward “Or it shows great loyalty and devotion.” “Besides, the boy is young. He's naive. He probably has no idea what she's in for.”

"you are a young boy" Daemon glared

Oscar smirked, leaning against the back of his seat “Only in comparison to you, Targaryen” he glared, “Now…The riverlords have been gathering at harrnehall, it will take a while yet for us to raise our full armies, but we're not far off now. My question is, what shall be our next move?”

"we wait for word from the queen" Daemon glared

Oscar raised an eyebrow slightly at the princes sharp, glare. He took a deep breath before speaking, keeping his eyes focused on the prince, speaking in a low, commanding tone “I'll be blunt, Targaryen, if we wait to long before we strike then the greens will have more time to prepare their armies, and they will be stronger. We need to attack them when they are vulnerable, unprepared.”

"And you wish to march half a River army to kings landing yourself?"

Oscar chuckled, his eyes still focus on the prince. He shook his head gently before responding “That depends, you'd be with me, wouldn't you, Targaryen?”

"I would be on caraxes. Watching you be slaughtered"

Oscar smirked, sitting back slightly in his chair and crossing his legs, still focused on the prince “Ah yes. Your dragon.” He remained silent for a moment, his eyes boring into the princes eyes before speaking again, mockingly imitating the princes voice "I cannot enter any conflict without my precious dragon."

"mind your tongue boy" Daemon glared

Oscar smirked, he didn't fear the prince, not at all. If anything, he saw him as an equal. He sat forward, his eyes burning into the princes “Or what?”

"I think we should uhhh discuss" Simon strong spoke up "if you are to proceed with this wedding my lord..."

Oscar broke eye contact with the prince and looked over to Strong, slightly annoyed that he had been interrupted “What is it, Lord Strong?”

"... House blackwood keeps the old gods, not the seven my lord" lord strong explained,

Oscar nodded, “Yes.. I'd imagine that will be of slight.. issue. And you, Targaryen? What is your view on the matter?”

"Targaryen’s do not hold to any gods. It is irrelevant" Deameon shrugged

Oscar nodded once again, speaking with a mocking, sarcastic tone “Fantastic. So a marriage between a Riverlord, of the faith of the seven, and a Blackwood, of the old gods.” he chuckled, “That will be... interesting..”

"Stranger things have happened my lord, shall we make arrangements for this wedding?" Lord strong asked

Oscar nodded, sitting back against his chair, folding his hands into his lap, and speaking in a more serious tone “Yes. We shall.” He thought silently for a moment before speaking again “But I expect I won't be allowed to consummate the marriage until the ceremony, correct?”

"as is tradition my lord yes." Lord strong nodded "wedding and then bedding ceremony"

The word made oscar cringe, he sighed, that was probably the part he liked the least. He hated the idea of a bunch of drunk men stripping his wife half naked, he hated the idea of other men looking at his wife. It annoyed him. He looked up at strong again “Can we not skip that bit? I prefer to keep my future wife to myself rather than letting your drunken courtiers gawk at her.”

"you can refuse the ceremony if you wish my lord" Simon nodded

"I refused for all three of my wives. The first because I didn't want to inflict her nudity on the men of the runestone. The two others... Because I wanted to strip them myself " Daemon smirked

Oscar smiled, at least the prince agreed with him there. He wasn't alone with his distain of the ceremony “Good. I'll be doing the same then. I don't want anyone seeing my wife like that. I want that privilege all to myself.”

"we shall begin preparing then," lord strong nodded

Oscar nodded “Good. Please, keep me informed with the preparations.”

He stood, gesturing for the other two to take their leave before he himself left the grand hall,

The wedding had been arranged as a quick affair, the armies still gathering at harrenhall, so the wedding would be the riverlords as witness, in the godswoods with a septon, and a small feast in the grand hall. Nothing too monumental but with war looming the time and expense could not be spared for a grand affair

Oscar sat in the Great Hall, He fiddled restlessly with the chalice of ale in his hands, waiting for the marriage ceremony. He couldn't wait to be wed, to finally have a proper lady at his side and a wife to keep the bed warm when the nights grew cold and the war grew long. He was ready to begin life as a married man, and the wait for the ceremony to start was annoying him

lord strong approached and bowed "it is time my lord, the septon stands in the godswoods awaiting the ceremony to begin"

Oscar nodded, standing from his seat and finishing the last of the ale in his chalice “Very well, let's get this over with.” The more impatient voice in him spoke, the one that just wanted to skip straight to tonight. He followed Lord Strong outside and through the godswood,

the riverlords loomed around the godswoods, many of the men in the armies had gathered outside on the rocky ruins to get a view into the godswood, prince Daemon lingered his hand on his sword, a septon stood in front of the werewood tree,

"My lord Tully, the seven has blessed us with a beautiful day" The Septon smiled,

Oscar approached the septon, “They most certainly have, septon.” he nodded, “Now, let us not waste any more time. I shall be a married man before the sun sets.”

the septon nodded and signalled beyond the woods. Hush suddenly came over the lords.

Oscar turned his head, taking a step forward, his eyes focused on the woods behind him, waiting. He took a deep breath, the time was here. The long day of waiting and preparation was over. He was so close to being wed, the feeling was exciting. He focused his gaze and waited for his bride

the doors opened wide and Lord Blackwood stepped out, and on his arm was his sister.

Y/n Blackwood, she was a Y/H and somewhat Y/B/T girl, with a sweet face, tender skin, y/e/c eyes, long Y/H/C styled well, she wore a silvery gown with matching gems about her. A maiden’s cloak of red and black the colours of house Blackwood draped over her shoulders,

Oscar's eyes locked as she entered, taking in the sight of his bride and a proud smile came across his face,

her brother brought her to the tree and she bowed low she was clearly nervous but she still smiled to him

Oscar looked down at the lady Y/n, seeing her bow low to the ground in front his eyes, he smiled, she was beautiful, shy and nervous too. It reminded him of a scared fawn, small, nervous, and beautiful.

the Septon nodded "Who brings this maiden to be wed?"

"I, Lord Benjicot Blackwood of Raventree Hall, Her brother, and her protector." Lord Blackwood nodded "She is a maiden flowered, unsoiled and pure, and I give her willingly for this match"

Oscar felt the pride in his chest once again at the mention of her being a maiden, pure and unsoiled, as a good wife should be.

"Who comes to claim her?" The septon asked,

He took a quick, deep breath and spoke in a steady, determined voice “I, Oscar Tully, of Riverrun, come to claim this lady. Her honour, and her hand.”

lord Blackwood slowly handed Y/n's hand to Oscar letting him feel her soft hand for the first time, her skin was soft but her fingertips were likely from embroidery or other such sewing works, feeling her soft palm against his, his fingers interlocked with hers. He was surprised at the softness and smoothness of her hand, but then again, he should have expected it. After all, she was a noble lady. A small smile spread across his face as he felt the calluses on her fingertips, a stark reminder that she wasn't just a lady, she was a practical and smart girl as well.

Seven vows were made, seven blessings invoked, and seven promises were exchanged, "And now bring her into your house, your home and your protection." The septon nodded,

Lord Blackwood slowly removed the cloak of Blackwood colours from Y/n leaving her to shiver for a moment but,

Oscar took the Tully cloak from Lord Strong and gently wrapped it around her shoulders, fastening it at the front,

she smiled rather excitedly,

"As with the draping of these colours, the maiden sheds her time as a blackwood maiden and is here and now a Tully bride." The septon then took a beautiful woven cord of the colours of house Tully and Blackwood, binding their joined hands in a handfasting knot "in the sight of the seven, I hearby seal these two souls binding them as one for eternity"

Oscar smiled as the septon tied the handfasting knot around their wrists, the seven colours of House Tully and House Blackwood intertwined together. He looked down into Y/n's eyes, her excitement was infectious, and it made his chest feel warm. He tightened his grip around hers, smiling down at her as the septon continued speaking

“Any who wish to challenge this union, this is now your time to speak,” The septon asked, but no one spoke, "you may now speak the words"

"Father, smith, warrior, mother, maiden, crone, stranger..." She nodded slowly given she had only just leant all this "I am his, and he is mine from his day to the end of My days" she smiled,

Oscar nodded, keeping his eyes focused on Y/n. He smiled as he spoke, his voice steady and firm, yet soft and gentle at the same time “I am hers, and she is mine from this day to the end of my days.”

"and you may seal with a kiss my lord." The septon said a little quietly

Oscar smiled, he'd been looking forward to this part. He slowly lifted his hand to her chin, his fingers gently gripping her soft skin. He lifted her face, his eyes still locked with her,

“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband,” she blushed,

“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife,” Oscar smiled, before leaning down and gently pressing his lips against hers, in a long, soft, but firm kiss

she softly kissed back slightly gasping when loud applause and cheers came from the riverlords, which then triggered a large celebration from the many men of the armies who had all loomed outside the godswoods to watch what they could, even daemeon gave a small applause

Oscar took advantage of the applause and cheers from the riverlords to deepen the kiss, his hand still resting on her chin, holding her face as he pressed his lips harder into hers, his other hand resting on her waist and pulling her closer to him. The cheering was a reminder to him that the entire world was watching, and he wanted to show just how much this marriage meant to him. He ignored his surroundings, and focused solely on Y/n, his new wife. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he reluctantly pulled back from the kiss, taking a deep breath as he broke apart. He looked back into her eyes, their faces so close they were almost touching. He smiled, taking in the feeling of her soft skin against his, the sweet, gentle kiss, and the sound of the riverlords cheering in applause.

she softly Giggled when he pulls back her cheeks a little red from her not expecting such a passionate kiss from her new husband,

Oscar couldn't help but smile at her Giggling, her soft, gentle voice making his chest feel warm. He took a deep breath, before gently cupping her face in his hands, his thumb gently brushed across her soft, rosy red cheeks

"then it is and always shall be." The septon nodded as he untied their joined hands, “one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

“You have a pretty laugh, you know that?” he smiled to her,

she giggled again "Thank you my lord"

Oscar smiled again, resting his forehead against hers “Please, call me Oscar. My name sounds far better coming from your lips.”

"... Yes Oscar" she nodded

He smiled, his chest warming at the sound of his name coming from her mouth. It sounded good. He slowly leaned back, gently wrapping his arm around her waist “I suppose we should return to the festivities now, my wife. And you can expect a lot more of that later on as well.”

she blushed but nodded as he lead her through the godswoods passing the lords as they headed inside the harrenhall grand hall.