#a bloody game of thrones that is no game

[devoutjunk]

thought I was entering my annual Winter breakdown but it turns out I just needed to start MENEWOOD

[catsteeth]

Turn Your Cloak

Benjicot Blackwood x reader 

+:✿ One Shot ✿:+ part 2

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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[thesongoficeandfir3]

The wolf, the raven and the arrow

Benjicot ‘Davos’ Blackwood x Fem Stark reader

Au, after the war and the blacks won

Warning: I don’t think so lest you count my bad writing ahahah 😔

You currently stood in the training yard of Riverrun, shooting arrows at the target up ahead. You and your elder brother Cregan, were on your way back to Winterfell from queen Rhaenyra’s coronation. The journey from King’s landing to the North was a extremely long one, so it was decided to stop at the Riverlands for a few days for rest and the opportunity to not have to sleep in a tent another day.

As you continued to shoot the arrows, at the corrnor of your eye you noticed the young formidable lord of Raventree Hall looking at you. He was leaning against the fence of the training ring,snacking on an apple while his men roughhouse around him. When your eyes locked with his dark ones, you rolled your eyes and continued to shoot. From the very first day you stepped foot in Riverrun, Benjicot Blackwood eyes would always be on you.

When you were breaking your fast or having dinner in the great hall with others you would always notice him looking at you, moments as this one when you were in the training yard, he never failed to be at some corner his eyes taking in your figure. If you pass him briefly in the halls, he was always looking at you and would only look away when your figure finally disappeared out of his sight. You two had yet to hold any real conversation as your brother was always accompanying you nearly every where you went. This time however, Cregan was busy in the company of Alysanne, something you will for sure tease him for later, alas leaving you by yourself.

Benjicot knew he’d be a fool to not use this opportunity of you finally being all alone, without your intimidating brother trailing next to you like a guard dog. As you tried to keep your attention on the task at hand, you heard the men suddenly whistle and cheer, though you didn’t turn around you just knew it was directed towards you.

You then heard the sound of a large amount of them walking away from the training yard and one walking towards you, their boots causing a squelching sound in the mud. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Lord Blackwood.” You greeted him formally though there was no warmth and friendliness in your tone not even bothering to look at him instead shooting another arrow.

“Lady Stark” he greets you back in an equally formal tone of voice, but the smirk on his face showed that he had little to no respect for formality. It was simply to mock yours. After the greeting it goes quiet, save for the sound of you readying another arrow to shoot at the target.

He snickers as you miss your shot, the arrow straying a few feet away from the target. He may not have been there for long but judging by the looks of it, you had yet to hit a bullseye.

“You really are a terrible archer, aren’t you?” He says as he takes another bite of his apple before throwing it off to the side.

“Clever of you to say that to someone who still holds the bow and arrow.” you bark back immediately.

This causes the young lord to chuckle again not feeling offended or threatened in the slightest. He still stood behind you, and little to your knowledge his eyes never left your figure and occasionally analyzing it from head to toe. He found your fiery temper amusing and couldn’t help but wonder if he could push you any more.

“I’ve never seen someone shoot this poorly… and that is saying something considering I’ve seen five year olds train with bows.” He replies nothing but pure mockery in his tone.

His words caused your blood to boil, and you quickly shoot another arrow to try and prove him wrong however, this time the arrow doesn’t even make it remotely close to the target but shoots to the forest behind.

He let out a bark of laughter, making no effort to conceal his amusement at your failure. “Are you trying to be a bad shot, or does it come naturally to you?”

You knew deep down this….he wasn’t worth it….you knew proving him wrong was a waste of time yet, your pride got the better of you. Again you took another arrow, changing your stance and ready to shoot. though you already set yourself up for failure as your stance was all wrong but you did not know it.

To be fair on your part, you were still relatively new to archery and your brother was in the process of teaching you, so you had a lot to learn. That being said, it should be another reason as to why you shouldn’t bother to try and prove to the Blackwood lord you’re not good when in fact… it mayhaps have been the truth.

As you were so focused ready to hit the target, you didn't even notice Benjicot had left his previous position, till he was directly behind you. Your breath hitched as you felt his chest pressed on your back. You could feel his heat radiating off of you, providing a comfortable warmth in contrast to the slight cold and wet environment as it had rained a few hours prior.

“What are you-“ you say with a shallow breath .

“Relax, I’m just trying to help,” He whispers, his lips hovering just over your ear. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in response. “First, your hips don’t need to be pushed so forward.” He says as he slowly moved your hips with his hand, guiding your body to the correct position for the shot.

Then he moves up and places his hands over your own as you held the bow. “Second you don’t need to be so tense,” he says as he leans his face even closer to yours. If you had turned your face even in the slightest you were sure your lips would meet his. You do as you’re told and with a shaky breath you relax. “That’s it, just like that. Good girl… now shoot.”

You felt a strange twist at the pit of your stomach at his words, and it took everything inside of you to not react. You finally release, the arrow goes flying and hits the target square in the center, right in the bullseye.

You gasp in shock and a smile spreads across your lips. While your eyes never leave the target, Benjicot’s eyes never left you.

He immediately noticed the soft smile on your face and found himself surprised by it. This was the first time he saw you without a scowl or frown on your face around him. He can't help but feel a bit pleased that he has managed to provoke such a reaction from you. As much as he enjoyed annoying you,he enjoyed making you smile more.

“So you are capable of smiling.” he says whispering in your ear, breaking the moment of bliss between you two.

You then realized that he was still very much hovering over you and his hands found their way to your hips keeping you close to him. You quickly elbowed him in the stomach shoving him away from you,and creating a good distance between you two in the process. Though there was a small part if you that missed the warmth.

He let out a small noise as your elbow connects with his stomach, the blow knocking a bit of the wind out of him, but despite the pain smirks. “And the she wolf is back,” he chuckles extremely amused at how fast your mood changed. “though I’d be lying if I didn’t say I liked your fiery side a bit more than your soft one.” he said as he straightened up himself from the blow.

“You want a woman with fire... go marry a Targaryen.”you say with a scoff as you leaned the bow and arrows against a post near you.

“Tempting as it is to have a dragon for a wife, I think I prefer wolves.” Even though you had assaulted him last time he was near you, he began to take steps towards you.

“Wolves eat ravens.” you said with your arms folded and stared at him as he walked towards you.

“That's what makes it fun…. the danger.” He flashes you a toothy grin, swiping his tongue along his teeth.

He continues to walk towards you, his steps slow and measured like a predator, his eyes never leaving yours.

“By the seven- you're psychotic and relentless.“

He chuckles as you comment on his behavior, not like he hasn’t heard that before. He is now standing right in front of you again, that grin still on his face as his eyes look into yours. He reaches a hand up and brush some of your hair away from your face, his touch gentle.

“And you've not seen anything yet.” He spoke out in a low tone

The way he looks at you and his gentle touch made you feel that same pool of excitement in your stomach as when he was fixing your position. To be honest you had really nothing against him , hell you don’t even know why there was ‘rivalry’ between you two but at the same time you couldn’t give in that easily.

“You don't give up do you?” You say not pulling away

“Never, not when I want something.” He leans his face closer, his lips mere inches away from yours.

“And what is it that you want?” you say relishing in the moment you get to mock him.

He continues to speak in a low, suggestive tone.

“I think you know the answer to that.” He says with a grin his eyes analyzing and drinking in all your features, as this was the first time he got to be so close to you.

And what makes you think I want the same?” You say continuing to tease him. “I'm a lady of one of the seven great kingdoms... the only daughter of the late lord stark, what do you have that other lords don’t?

“Would you like a list?” He quips back, his voice dripping with confidence.

For the first time you laugh from his words. “humor me, Blackwood”

“I’d worship your body every night and make sure to leave you breathless. I’d be loyal to you, and would kill anyone that dare to cross you. I’d give you all my attention,” he then runs his thumb on the bottom of your lip and his voice going lower “I may be a lord but a woman like you deserves to be a Queen, and I’d make you my Queen in all but name.”

You would have caved in right then and there if you hadn’t noticed your brother in the distance walking into the castle bringing you right back to reality. Your eyes flicker right back to Benjicot.

“That’s very tempting lord Blackwood but I’m not so easy to tame with mere words” you say as you leaned up and gave him a quick kiss at the side of his lips before walking to Cregan.

“I’m not ready to stop running Blackwood” you say with a laugh as you walk away.

“And I’m not ready to stop chasing you lady Stark” he replied back, his eyes again never leaving your figure. He didn’t see this as defeat but as courage to work harder.

[kingslayerssword]

Is it embarrassing to admit that I check the Gwayne Hightower and Benjicot Blackwood tags every single hour…..

[stormmyk]

give me one chance JUST ONE PLEASE 🙏😭

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Haunting of Riverrun

fancast!bloody ben x widow!tully!reader

Summary: After the death of her childhood love Y/n is left broken. Her parents can take no more of her moping and invite the River Lords to ask for her hand. She never thought she would find such a love again in her life until he walks into her parents hall.

Warnings: 18+ mention of death, grieving, swearing(and i think the only swear word is in my authors note 💀), teasing, oral (f receiving), p in v

Authors Note: fuck if i know why i made her a widow??, guess i wanted some hurt comfort :), soft ben bc why not, this man is down bad fr

Word Count: 4.8k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“You must remarry, I would prefer it to a house that’s close to ours, but above all I just want you to be happy, daughter. You’ve been haunting these halls after your husband’s death for too long.” my father’s words repeatedly slam into me.

“I didn’t know my bereavement had an expiration date.” I say exasperated, shaking my head at a loss.

“It’s been well over a year. War is coming for the crown and I’d like you to have the opportunity to choose your husband rather than being placed into an unhappy marriage pact for alliances and swords.” he looks to me from our house seat and my mother grabs onto his wrist supportively.

“We just wish to see your smile again.” my mother whispers to me with a soft smile.

“It sounds as if I don’t have a choice in the matter.” I shrug my shoulders, looking up at the ceiling to stop the tears that threaten to fall.

“I’ve summoned some of the unmarried Lords of the Riverlands and they’ll be here by the end of the week. Try to keep an open mind daughter.” my father looks to me and then comfortingly to my mother.

“I’ll see you for supper.” I murmur as I turn and leave the hall.

I sequester myself in my chambers for the rest of the night, even refusing to attend supper much to my parents displeasure. I know they mean well but how can I possibly think of remarrying when every time I go to sleep all I can think of is waking in the middle of the night to my husband’s dead body.

The maesters say it was overindulgence mixed with a poor heart. We were only married for one turn of the moon, but I knew him much longer than that. He was in every sense the gentleman and even waited to consummate our marriage not wanting to be presumptuous.

It was a very innocent and young love kind of marriage. I always thought my cheeks were going to split from how much he made me smile. He would whisper sweet nothings in my ear throughout court making my cheeks tint. At night he would cuddle in close and pepper kisses across my face before curling into me and drifting off to bed. I never expected it to end so quickly. So yes, I have been haunting the halls of Riverrun.

One of my maids knocks softly and enters with tea and a sleeping draft should I want it. She brushes through my hair and helps me prepare for bed. I slip under the covers and lay back ready for another fitful night of sleep.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The rest of the week goes by in a blur as gowns are being fitted and hemmed in haste for the upcoming events. I’m to be paraded around like a prized mare ready for auction. My breath catches in my throat as one of the maids pulls my corset strings tightly.

“Might we loosen it? Even just a bit?” I say trying to calm my nerves.

“Yes, my Lady. I’m sorry.” she says as I breathe out a sigh of relief as I can fully inflate my lungs again.

I’m quickly brought down to the main hall where my mother and father are sitting in the house seat waiting for my arrival. A chair has been brought in for me to sit at their side on display. My mother’s smile spreads across her face as she takes in my new gown.

“You look lovely, Y/n.” my mother coos to me.

“Thank you, mother.” I take my seat without further word.

“Bring them in.” my father calls to his guards.

The doors groan open and in walk four men. I scoff at the first two men who enter as they seem to be older than my father. The two men that follow are finally closer to my age, if not the same age as me. They all stand in a line in front of my father looking to him except one who won’t tear his eyes from me. I look him over from head to toe and roll my eyes when I see the smirk ghosting on his lips.

“Y/n?” my father says getting my attention.

“Yes?” I ask absentmindedly taking in the frustration on my father’s face.

“I asked you to introduce yourself.” he says hushed as he narrows his eyes at me.

“Have they come here not knowing whose hand they’re vying for?” I asked with a clipped tone completely over this already.

“Y/n.” my mother hisses from my father’s side.

“Good morrow, my Lords.” I sigh and look to them. “I’m Lady Y/n Tully. Tell me who you are and what you can offer me.” I tilt my head looking to them all expectantly.

The one who can’t take his eyes off of me lets out a loud laugh as the other men look to me distraught. I raise my hand in motion for them to start telling me their names and houses so we can get this meeting over with. The three men look to my father and mother for help as they fall over their words and each other in the process.

“That’s enough,” I raise my hand with annoyance. “You.” I point to the one who is smiling at me and seems to find this entertaining.

“Me?” he raises his eyebrows as his smile never falters.

“Yes, tell me your name.” I purse my lips looking him over more in depth as he steps closer.

“Lord Benjicot Blackwood, my Lady.” he says his voice smooth like butter.

“And what can you offer me, Lord Benjicot?” I lean forward and raise an eyebrow studying him.

“Anything your heart desires. Say it and it shall be yours.” he says inclining his head to me.

“I’ll have him.” I turn to my father and take in his distressed state.

“My daughter, you still haven’t-“

“No matter,” I wave off my father’s words. “I’ll have Lord Benjicot or no one.” I say with finality.

“Y/n please,” my mother’s voice begging.

“Two of these Lords are older than father and the other is just as bumbling and stuttering as them. You’ve practically made the choice for me.” I blink at them, daring them to go against what they know is true.

“At least enter a courtship first.” my mother pleads.

“I thought you wanted me out of Riverrun so I could stop “haunting the halls” I think was the way you phrased it?” I tilt my head looking to my parents.

“We didn’t mean it like that.” my mother adds with soft, sad eyes.

“Enough, this discussion can wait.” my father stands from his seat, his face red with embarrassment for this conversation in front of his vassals.

“Agreed.” I stand with my father defiantly. “Lord Benjicot, would you like to go for a walk along the river?” I ask holding my arm out for him to grab.

“I would be honored, my Lady.” he smiles and grabs my arm as we exit the main hall.

As we walk out the main doors I can practically feel my parent’s eyes burning into us. What did they expect me to do, wed an old man? I turn to the Lord on my arm and see that he’s already studying me himself. He’s actually quite handsome and I can tell he knows it by the way he carries himself.

“Tell me of your home.” I request tearing my eyes from him to look at the river beside us.

“It’s one of the oldest standing castles, dating back to the first men. We have a massive weirwood that is home to hundreds of ravens, hence the name Raventree Hall. We’re close enough to the coast where if you stand in some of the towers you can see the bay. It’s not too far from Riverrun should you get homesick.” he studies my expression, looking unsure of what to say.

“Very well.” I hum as I lead us to an unoccupied bench. “You truly wish to wed me?” I turn to him as I take a seat.

“I would be honored to have your hand, my Lady. I do not wish to force you into this marriage, should you not want it.” he bites his lip looking almost nervous.

“I must wed again.” say barely audible turning my head back to the river. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Or that I wouldn’t want to wed you. It’s just only been a year since.. It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head wishing I bit my tongue. Of course he wouldn’t want to hear about my dead husband and he’s going to change his mind and-

“Tell me of your first love.” his voice as soft as mine as he interrupts my thoughts.

“What?” my head snaps to him. “Why?” my eyebrows furrow with confusion.

“I can tell you loved him dearly. If you don’t want to you don’t have to. I just wanted to offer a listening ear.” he fidgets with his hands looking at me nervously.

“He was,” I sigh trailing off. “He was very kind and sweet. We grew up together. A young blossoming love like the books tell..” I shake my head unable to continue.

“It’s okay.” he places his hand on mine in comfort. “You can tell me whenever you’re ready or want to. I’ll be here to listen.” he smiles softly to me.

“I shouldn’t be speaking of this to you, it’s uncomely.” my voice is wobbly as my glassy eyes look to him.

“Your feelings are no burden to me. You lost a great love.” his eyes full of promise and patience.

“My parents seem to think it’s excessive. So much so that they’re pushing me off onto someone else.” tears fall down my face and I wipe them away angrily.

“I- May I hug you?” he looks to me with pitiful eyes which would normally enrage me but I could use a genuine hug.

I turn to him and fold into his embrace. His arms wrap around me tightly, protectively. Feelings of safety and comfort wash over me as I melt into him. I cling to him as tears continue to pour down my face. Gods what am I thinking sobbing into him like this.

“I’m sorry.” I sniffle pulling back. “No, I’ve got tears all over your jacket.” my voice cracks as more tears fall as I try to wave my hand to dry off the stain.

“Hey,” he tries to get my attention away from the wet mark. “Y/n it’ll dry.” my name falls off of his tongue stilling me.

“I’m sorry.” I look to him with red cheeks.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” he smiles softly to me.

I scoot closer to him as we look on at the river in front of us. We sit in comfortable silence as he allows me to grieve. Once the sun starts to dip below the horizon he escorts me back to the castle and offers me a goodnight. For the first time in many moons I tuck into bed with hope for the future and sleep restfully.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

It took me all of a week to completely fall for Ben. My ribs hurt from the laughter he’s been able to pull from me daily. My parents look at us with happiness throughout the week and finally relent and accept my leave to go to his home for a fortnight before we wed.

As we approach Raventree Hall my breath escapes me looking on at the large gates painted with moss and life. As we enter through his men greet him happily and offer me warm smiles. He escorts me into his castle and I’m entranced by its architecture and detail.

“You have a beautiful home.” I hum looking around the hall. When I finally turn back to him he’s leaning against the door frame looking at me with a soft smile.

“It’ll be your home as well soon enough.” he pushes off the doorway and walks to me.

“You haven’t decided I’m too crazy for you?” I look up to him as he approaches.

“Not anymore than I am.” a smile pulls across his face as he grabs my hand leading me out of the hall.

He gives me a full tour of Raventree Hall that ends with us in the Godswood. I’m speechless at the massive weirwood that’s a home to all of these ravens. The tree itself stands taller than the entire castle making me crane my neck to see the entirety of it. Ben leads us out of the Godswood and into the castle where we share an intimate dinner alone.

“I must admit something.” he looks to me from across the table once the servants disappear.

“Which is?” I look at him with a raised eyebrow, my interest piqued.

“I first saw you when I was just a boy. We were all summoned to Riverrun for some event I no longer remember,” he trails off, his cheeks turning red. “But I’ll always remember you. You were wearing a billowy pink dress with flowers in your hair and you looked less than pleased to be surrounded by so many people. I thought you were so perfect but I couldn’t work up the nerve to speak to you. It has always been such a regret.” Ben’s eyes look to me as the memory appears in my mind of that scratchy, terrible dress they made me wear and I giggle.

“Was I your first crush, Lord Benjicot?” a wicked smile appears on my face as his cheeks turn a darker shade of red.

“You’re never going to let me live this down.” he groans covering his face, peeking at me through his fingers.

“Not anytime soon.” I hum as I pull his hands away from his face.

“Your parents say you’ve been haunting Riverrun, but you’ve been haunting my dreams for much longer.” he says intertwining our fingers looking to me.

“I’m sorry I’ve caused you so many years of restless sleep.” a smirk plays on my lips as I squeeze his hands.

“You’ll have plenty of restless nights coming up.” he winks at me causing my cheeks to catch on fire.

“Ben,” I gasp scandalously as he chuckles at me.

“I’ll never tire of my name on your tongue.” he smiles and leans back in his chair watching me.

We finish our dinner with palpable tension as we steal glances at one another. He escorts me to my chambers through the silent halls. The castle seems to already be asleep for the night as we linger, not quite ready to leave each other’s company.

“Let your guard know if you need anything. Although, my chambers are right down the hall if you need me.” he looks at me with low lids and a lazy smile.

“Then I’ll know which direction to begin my haunts during the hour of the wolf.” I smile up at him as he chuckles and shakes his head.

“I’ll make sure to leave my doors unlocked for you.” he winks, reaching behind me to open my chambers for me.

“I’ll see you in your dreams.” I whisper before whisking myself into my chambers and sealing myself behind the doors before he can see the extent of my blush.

I take in my chambers and smile at the warmth and new beginnings they carry. I begin to change into my night dress and retire to my bed. I figured it would feel weird sleeping in a home that’s not mine but all I feel is excitement for what the next fortnight will hold. I fall asleep with a smile etched on my face.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The first week at Raventree Hall was full of innocent glances and hand holding but there seems to be a rise in tension between us in our last week before we wed. We constantly tease each other and seem to always be touching each other whether it be his hand on my back or mine on his arm.

I exit my chambers early this morning to explore the halls and yards on my own. I stop in the Godswood and look upon the ravens that fly about the grounds. I slowly make my way to the training yard to watch Ben work alongside his men. I haven’t had the courage to come down here and watch him but my curiosity is getting the better of me.

As I turn the corner I’m greeted with grunts and clashing swords. My eyes dart around the yard until they land on a shirtless Ben. Gods this is why I never came here to watch him because I know I look like a lovesick puppy. I claim a seat on the outskirts of the circle near Ben and silently watch him train.

He is a true leader to his men and is actively cares about their advancement. I sit with a smile painted across my face as I watch his muscles flex deliciously. His eyes finally land on me and his face lights up as he jogs over to me.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Y/n.” he looks down at me with hungry eyes as I continue to lounge in my chair.

“Am I not allowed to look upon my betrothed?” I blink up to him innocently.

“Shall I remove more layers so you can look upon the rest of me.” he chuckles lowly as my cheeks inflame.

“Benjicot Blackwood.” I hiss as I quickly rise and cover his mouth with my hand. He chuckles into my hand and grabs my wrist to lower my hand.

“You get flustered so easily.” he says lowly, trailing his fingers up my arm causing me to shiver. “Do you enjoy watching me train?” he dips down to whisper in my ear to which I nod not trusting my voice.

His confidence is so exhilarating. I feel my blood thrum in his presence in anticipation for anything he does. I never thought I would feel the life brought back to me. He pulls back much to my quiet displeasure and looks at me with a serpentine smile.

“You can come and watch me whenever you please. I’ll have a chase brought out for you, I wouldn’t want you to get uncomfortable while you fantasize about me.” he teases as I roll my eyes and turn to walk away without another word.

“I’m sorry.” he breathes out as he turns me around to find a smile on my face and he sighs out in relief. “Mm, in that case do you want to share your fantasies with me?” this man is absolutely relentless.

“Maybe when we aren’t around so many eyes.” I shrug him off with a smirk of my own and continue to walk into the case.

As I continue inside the doors I hear his men laugh at him for scaring me away and I can’t help but chuckle myself. I don’t know how I’ll ever get used to his teasing and not turn into such a blushing mess. I’m quite excited to be wed to him because there’s never a dull moment.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“My wife,” Ben whispers down to me softly before he captures my lips for the first time at our ceremony.

I feel as if my heart is going to burst out of my chest as I sigh into his mouth. He pulls me closer as my arms wrap around his back. I care not of the audience watching us as I allow myself to indulge in my husband. We pull apart and he offers me one more chaste kiss before we turn to the crowd with red cheeks.

I turn to my parents and see my mother all but sobbing and my father with watery eyes standing tall next to her. I chuckle at them as we descend from the alter. Ben twirls me around the open dance floor before bringing me back so we can share our first dance.

My body is buzzing with anticipation as Ben glues me to his body as we begin. I look up at him through my lashes as cups my face. He offers me a soft kiss as we continue to sway to the soft music.

The celebrations go on long into the night. Ben and I try to sneak off a handful of times but got lured into conversations as we tried to make our escape. As the crowd begins to slow we are quick to slip away and rush into the castle.

Ben’s hand grips mine as we run through the front doors trying to stifle our laughter so we don’t draw attention to us. He pulls me up the stairs after him silently. We come to a stop in front of his chambers both of our chests rising and falling rapidly.

“My chambers or yours?” he licks his lips looking down at me.

“I thought your chambers were mine now, husband?” I tilt my head with a smile.

His lips crash into mine causing me to squeak in surprise. He smiles into the kiss before pulling us inside our chambers. He pulls us apart and seals the chambers shut and turns to me with dark eyes. He stalks over to me and his hands pull my closer by my waist.

“This is a beautiful dress. May I take it off?” he whispers as he starts to kiss my neck. His hands trail to my back waiting at the strings for my word.

“Yes,” I breathe out as his fingers begin to unravel my dress. He pulls back to help me step out of it leaving me in my silk slip. He looks at me hungrily as his hands slide back to my waist. I bring trembling hands to his jacket and begin to unbutton it.

“Do I make you nervous?” I can tell he’s smirking without even looking at him. His hands go to mine to steady them before taking over and removing his jacket the rest of the way.

“Don’t tease me.” I pout as I begin to unbutton his shirt.

“So eager to see me shirtless again?” he chuckles as he pulls his shirt over his head quickly.

“I will make you sleep in the guest chambers.” my eyes narrow on him as I push his chest.

“Is that truly what you want?” he tilts his head smugly.

“No.” I cross my arms.

“Oh come here.” he relents and pulls me to him once more.

He dips down and encases my lips with his. He licks along the seam and I open my mouth and his tongue is immediately dancing with mine. I melt into his touch and gasp out in surprise as his hand travels to my thighs and they clench shut. He pulls back breathlessly and looks to me with low lids.

“Have you been touched before?” he asks without his teasing tone for once as his hands return to my waist.

“No.” I shake my head with burning cheeks.

“Would you like to be?” he asks softly.

“Yes,” I answer faster than I would’ve liked.

His lips find mine again as his hand finds its way between my thighs. I whimper into his mouth as his fingers trail through my wetness. He continues with one tortuous finger until he decides to swirl against my clit.

“Ben,” I cry into his mouth as my legs threaten to give out.

“Let’s go to the bed.” his voice laced with desire.

Once we make it to the bed he slowly lifts off my slip and helps me back on the bed. He begins to remove his pants as I gaze up at him with heavy eyes as I take in the rest of his body. My legs squeeze in anticipation looking at him on full display. We shameless drink in each other’s body admiring.

He climbs into bed and hovers above me for a moment before he fiercely kisses me once more. His hand makes its way back between my legs as his teeth nip at my bottom lip. His fingers begin to circle my clit once more causing a moan to tear through me.

“Does that feel good, Y/n?” he whispers before he attaches is mouth to my neck.

“Yes, Ben,” I whine as my legs begin to shake.

His fingers continue to slide through my wetness as his kisses begin to trail down my chest. I suck in a large breath as he takes my nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. He leaves wet kisses across my chest as he makes his way to my other breast. His deft fingers find their way back to my clit as he offers this nipple a playful bite causing me to arch up into his mouth.

He chuckles lowly as he begins to kiss down my torso until he’s watching his hand pull pleasure from body. I moan out in frustration as his finger slips away from my clit once more. I whimper as his tongue begins to lap against my clit as my thighs start to clamp around his head. He chuckles into my core before holding my thighs open to lose himself in me.

“Ben, please,” my hips grind against his face as one of my hands fly to his hair.

A sob tears through me as I explode all over his tongue as he continues his assault. He pulls his mouth back but continues trailing his fingers down my sensitive center. He looks to me and watches me as my legs twitch when his fingers pass over my clit. As his finger slides down it circles my entrance and begins to dip in. My hips lift off the bed wanting more of his fingers as he groans looking at me.

“Gods you’re perfect.” his voice dripping with devotion as he slips his finger the rest of the way in.

He leans down and entangles us in a kiss as his finger begins to pump into me. He teases a second finger and I moan into his mouth as he pushes them both into me. He holds his forehead to mine as I pant while my hips begin to chase his fingers for more. His thumb makes its way to my clit as his begins to move his fingers faster.

“Yes, Ben please,” he groans at my words and kisses me hard.

His fingers begin to curl as he pushes them into me faster. I clench around his fingers as I let go once more, losing myself to all of the pleasure he offers me. He slowly removes his fingers and I whine into his mouth at the loss.

“I need to be in you.” he breathes deeply as he settles between my legs. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him down to me. “Someone’s impatient.” he chuckles against my lips.

“You can still go to the guest chambers.” I scold breathlessly as his length presses against my core.

“I wouldn’t dare leave my wife so needy.” he pecks my lips as he begins to line himself up at my entrance.

He watches my face as he slowly pushes into me. My eyes flutter shut as I feel the burn of his delicious stretch. My hips begin to rock against his and he grinds into me deeply. My hands fly to his back as his continues is slow moments as my nails dig in.

He begins to rock his hips slowly getting faster. Moans fall from my lips freely as his hips snap into mine. Our breathes become one as pleasure washes over us. His hips falter as cry out his name coming around him with tears in my eyes. His hips still as he fills me with my name on his lips.

He kisses me softly as he pulls out and lays next to me. I curl into his side as he smooths my hair. Ben pulls a blanket over us as my eyes get heavier.

“Shall I go to the guest chambers?” he chuckles lowly as I groan in annoyance.

“I should make you go out of spite.” I huff pulling him closer to me anyways.

He kisses my head once more as we slowly begin to drift off.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Masterlist

[theseusgardens]

I wanna smash my face in a wall for him sjxhxbdbdj💀

[knight-of-flowerss]

I Will Wait.

Part one.

|__> part two will have smut I think :p also if u wanna be added to the house of the dragon tag list pls comment on here and I’ll add u!!

Benjicot ‘Davos’ Blackwood x Bracken!Reader.

Fluff + a bit of angst

Song inspo: I will wait by Mumford & Sons

Masterlist

Being a Bracken was hard. Well, being a Bracken girl was hard. Your brother, Aeron, was a pompous arsehole. Always acting like he was this big, tough knight, when in reality, he was a little boy who was playing as a pretend knight.

Your uncle, Humfrey, also known as Lord Bracken, was also a pompous arsehole, but he knew how to toy with people. He wasn’t a pretender, he would make promises and keep them. Like the promise that he would get one of his guards to whoop you as a child if you didn’t stop misbehaving, and as all children are, you continued misbehaving, and as you can expect, your uncle stuck to his words, even had the nerve to laugh at you when you tried to sit down on your sore bottom the next morning.

There are many things wrong with House Bracken. But the worst and most annoying of all was the ongoing rivalry between House Bracken and House Blackwood.

Apparently, to the Blackwood’s, years and years ago, the Bracken’s poisoned their dear Weirwood tree. It could be the truth or it could be another of the miscellaneous lies that both houses seemed to spew about each other to back up their rivalry. But in reality, I don’t think either side really knows why they hate eachother.

But what you did know is that you love a Blackwood.

And that was wrong.

Benjicot Blackwood was a sweet boy. Shy and caring. He was everything you wanted in a man. And he didn’t care that you were a Bracken.

Even when you were little, Benji always intrigued you. He was an honourable boy, an honourable man. He would never include a girl in a family feud that all stemmed from jealous men.

“Benji.. the war is coming, isn’t it?..” You whispered to him. You were both deep in the forest, Benji sitting up against a large tree, and you lying in his lap, your head resting on his chest as you get your large dress comfortable on the ground. Playing with his shirt, you look up at him, seeing him staring infront.

“Yes my love. I’m sorry but I must fight, it’s what I was born for. If I cannot protect my Queen then what type of Lord am I?” Benji breathed out. You sit up slightly, placing your left hand on his leg and your right on your chest, your faces inches apart.

“And what about me Benji? If you cannot come back alive then where does that leave me? Married off like a brood mare to the highest bidder? Dead at the hands of the other Blackwood’s? And what if Aegon wins? You could get executed for going against the crown-“

“And you can’t? Rhaenyra will win. And when she does she just might have mercy on the disloyal houses like House Bracken. Or she might kill you. But I know my Queen. The backers of the usurper cunt call her King Maegor with teats. She mourns her children! Her legacy! But even after all that she would spare the lives of those serving the pretender, because she is a good Queen.”

Tears brim your eyes as you stare at him. Wishing this could all be different. “Benji.. I don’t care who wins and who loses, I just want you. I want us to marry and grow old and have children, I want to not be afraid to love you Benji..”

Leaning your head against his, you squeeze your eyes closed and pressed your lips together tightly, trying not to spill tears or a pathetic whimper.

“I’m sorry my love. I promise you I’ll be back. And when I do, I promise I’ll marry you under the Weirwood tree, under the Old Gods and the New. I’ll love you unconditionally, no matter what any Bracken or Blackwood say. You are mine and I am yours. The day we get back, I either ask for your hand or take you as mine if anyone objects.”

You open your eyes and look at him, lips parting slightly. “Really?..” He adorns his sweet little smile finally and let’s out a small, breathy laugh. “Of course my love, you mean the world to me and I’d rather die than let you be used as a political piece for those piece of shit Brackens. Always have been a piece of shit, do you know what your uncle did to my father when they were-“

You grabbed his face, slamming your lips onto his, it was probably the last time that you could and you were going to make the most of it.

It had been two years. Two full Fucking years. It was over, finally. The usurper, Aegon, had been defeated.

From the start of the war ‘til now, you had matured a lot. All Noble women and children of the Riverland houses had lived in Riverrun since the war started, protecting the houses heirs and family.

Two years ago you were naïve, wide-eyed, and dependent on your surroundings to comfort you. Innocence was your very essence.

Now, post-war, you had come to terms with the world, it couldn’t change, people will continue to kill each other for power. But also, you were ‘ready for children’ according to Lady Tully. She claims your hips have widened and your breasts have grown. She is determined to find you a living husband to carry on your Bracken line but in reality, you wanted to taint that line, with Blackwood blood.

Soldiers were returning home.

Finally, your family was returning home.

Thousands of men from each houses spewing through each and every crevice, determined to get home.

Tully men made their way towards the Riverrun to celebrate their victory with their wives and children, with those who fought bravely along side with each other.

Darkmont men marched their way home, proud banner men who were eager to pray to the Seven, giving thanks for the victory that the Warrior gifted them, grateful that the Warrior answered their prayers of protection, valour and skill in battle.

The Piper men stalked towards the Pinkmaiden Castle near the Golden Tooth and the border with the Westerlands. Their loyalty towards the Tully’s unwavering in and out of battle. They make their way home while their faces reflect their words, ‘Brave and Beautiful’.

Other houses marched home, House Endymion, House Deddings, House Teague and others. They were all either matching home or to Riverrun to celebrate. You would try and pay more attention, but you’re too busy to acknowledge each and every men as you’re looking out for your man.

Your silly, crazed, depraved man that, hopefully, still has that shy, tender-hearted, gentle and loving boy inside.

You were just about to turn away, to pack up and return home to see what was left of your family, when you see it.

Three sets of flags, each having a trail of burned, bloodied and beaten soldiers following.

In the middle there rode a man holding the Clement House coat of arms on a large banner, a white flag with for blue, jagged line going down vertically.

They were loyal men of the Tully’s, Defenders of the Riverlands but there is only so much those soldiers can do before they stick their swords through their chest due to the constant bickering of the houses on either side of them.

On the left of House Clement, there was your family. House Bracken. Holding their golden banner with the Carmine coloured Stallion plastered in the middle up high as if they weren’t serving the pretender, the usurper, the loser. They had been defeated, yes. But their life long rivalry with the house over the field seemed to make them forget that.

You finally spotted your brother, Aeron. He looked utterly defeated. But that was in his eyes, his body and mouth concealed his battered condition with a confident facade.

Even from so far away you could tell they were bickering. They always were.

Finally your gaze drifts towards the right of House Clement, to your enemies.

A large, grey Stallion, big hooves, a dark matted mane with bit splotches of white and grey littering it the further you get towards its back legs moved in sync with the others at the front of the House Blackwood line. It was the most beautiful horse you had ever seen, trotting at a slow pace and showing off its regal strut. For being such a big and burley horse, it was quite elegant.

But, as beautiful as the horse was, a god sat atop it. The Maiden herself reincarnated as a Blackwood boy, Man.

Benjicot Blackwood had returned, more a man than those marching. He held his family’s banner up high, displaying their victory.

You smiled and stepped away from the window, running through the halls of the Riverrun. You stood at the front of the gates, greeting men as they trotted in.

All the other houses entered or passed and then finally House Clement entered, the banner men leading the Fyrd.

Next came your house, House Bracken. Your cousins and siblings came boasting in. Upon an auburn horse, your brother chucked the banner to the on foot soldiers and got off his horse.

“Sister!” Aeron shouted as he rushed towards you, “The fucking bitch Queen won, the little fuckers burnt half our house, I’ll fucking kill them.”

“Maybe it is for the best Aeron, we should at least be grateful she hasn’t burnt us to a crisp. And.. I’m glad to have you back brother.” You smiled and pressed a palm to his cheek. He sighs and wraps his arms around you tightly, “I’ve missed you sister, truly. It was horrifying out there, you ever seen a dragon rip a man to shreds? Well, hopefully not. Has everything been alright while we’ve been gone?”

“Of course it has brother, I’m a Bracken after all. A Bracken woman. I know how to handle myself. Now, go inside and show everyone how a Bracken stands tall, even after a loss.”

He smiled at me, tightly nodding. He let of me and started walking inside, catching up with our cousins on the steps.

Finally, finally the Blackwoods came marching. But that large stallion wasn’t matching at the start, Benjicot Blackwood, your Benji was no where to be found in fact.

Panic set in through you. Where had he gone? Had he fled? Had your family hurt him? Your questions were left un-answered as Lady Tully came out.

“Sweetheart, come inside, celebrate.” She spoke to you with great kindness, her hands gripping the sides of your arms and gently pulling you away into the Riverrun.

While the Lady Tully was coercing you inside, Benji was arguing with your uncle, Lord Bracken.

“Your false, usurper, cunt of a ‘king’ has been defeated Lord Bracken, I see no reason why you still think you can act like you have the upper hand.” Benjicot had started to lose his temper.

He had came to Lord Bracken to ask for your hand in marriage, to throw away their rivalries and start a new beginning of joint houses. Of course this was not Benjicot Blackwood speaking, Benjicot Blackwood would rather die than admit this. No, this was Benji speaking. This was the boy who loved a woman speaking.

But as time passed, his new nickname gifted to him in the war came shining through, Bloody Ben came out. He started losing his temper, lashing out at your depraved uncle, calling out his foolishness.

In reality, Benjicot was being just as foolish, lashing out at a Bracken while their large hoard pricks surround him, fucking stupid. But, he had brought Oscar and Kermit Tully alongside him, two long friends of his. So if shit went down, at least they’d die together.

As the bickering continued, both Bracken and Blackwood became increasingly more agitated and aggressive, the two Tully boys standing there like they’re ready to kill them selves and not the men coated in yellow.

“Young Lord Blackwood, do you really think I’d let your tiny Blackwood cock defile my innocent neice?”

Benji huffs, “Lord Bracken, your neice will have the taste of a real man, not a Bracken boy. The gods know we are destined-“ , “You worship the old gods! You will not say the fake gods destine you and her.”

Kermit moves forward, leaning to whisper into Benjicot’s ear, “Ben, maybe we should leave”, Benjicot puts a hand on his chest and softly nudges him away.

“Lord Bracken, rest assured, the old gods and the new know our binding of houses will avoid years of bloodshed in the future-“

Lord Bracken interrupts him, “Why would you want out houses binded? The Blackwood’s hate the Brackens and vice versa, it’s been like that for years, why would you of all people want that? You wish to take a jab at House Bracken while we are at our weakest? Belittle us?-“

“I love her.” Exclaimed Benji, Kermit looked to Oscar and Oscar rolled his eyes, just wanting to sit and feast, tired from the war.

“You know nothing of love, boy.”

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @tiredsleepyhead @onlyrealjoy

[viperixsworld]

Born to die

━━Benjicot Blackwood x oc

Prologue.

Year 126 A.C

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Lucrezcia was never fond of the Seven God's.

Perhaps it was due to her aversion to the septa, perhaps the seven gods seemed cruel to her, with their expectations of purity and penance. Maybe the gods didn't like her either.

There were few occasions when she had to go to the Sept for liturgy on special days. This was one of many. Maiden's Day, a day on which maidens of noble houses are required to go to the sept to light tall white candles at the Maiden's feet and hang parchment garlands about her neck and sing songs of innocence.

Prostitutes, widows, and men are barred from the sept. So were mothers, but Vala Harlaw was absent these day and all the following.

Lucrezcia thought of her mother at least once a day, where she would be, would she still be alive, perhaps she was happier now. These thoughts clouded the young woman's mind as she entered the small sept of the Arbor.

Vala had disappeared from the face of the earth, in the morning she was there, and in the afternoon she was gone.

But that was three long years ago, and Lucrezcia, still a maiden, was no longer a child.

A little tug on the sleeves of her gown brought her back to reality. Looking down, he found a pile of reddish swirls, covered by a tiara topped with a veil. Large, bright green eyes watched her intently, waiting for her to take the first step into the building.

Patricia, her younger sister, she was dressed in a small purple dressing gown, adorned with blue embroidery. It was her first Maiden's day in her four years of life, so little Patricia watched her big sister's every move with determination.

"Gals! Gals"

Septa Rowan hurried up the stairs to the sept portal with difficulty, catching her breath and fanning herself with her fat arms. As tradition dictated, young girls from noble houses were to be accompanied by their septas. Lucrezcia rolled her eyes in disdain, the old woman was like a watchful hawk, always on the lookout to correct any and all behaviour deemed inappropriate by the faith.

"What are you waiting for girls? We'll be late for the chants, come on, get a move on! "

The woman wasted no time in snatching little Patricia from Lucrezcia's skirts to hurry her towards the sept. The older girl lagged behind, still in front of the flower-decorated doors of the Sept.

Her mother was not one of the gods, either; she was an ironborn. Her god was the God of the Drowned, as much as her former husband would resent it.

Luther Redwyne was a man of the Seven, who condemned the ways of the mother of his daughters.

Vala, shorn of her faith, found ways to rebel against her husband's impositions. Small acts of rebellion, which had been engraved in her daughter's mind. Such as, spitting at the gates of the Sept, then stepping on his saliva on the ground.

"Lucrezcia, child, come in at once".

She scowled at the Septa, and when the old woman was out of sight, the girl spat on the stone floor and stepped on it. Then she entered the room, where the smell of smoke and incense burned her nostrils.

She was not fond of the gods, and some part of her gut told her it was mutual.

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Luther Redwyne was a tall man, who in years gone by had been a gallant man. His hair was already grey when her first daughter, Livia, was born. Now, the lord of the Arbor sported whitish hair, revealing traces of what had once been dark hair.

His clean face, now covered with light wrinkles, appeared at the dinner table in the chamber surrounded by his three other daughters.

Olga, the second eldest of the sisters, devoted to the Faith of the Seven, led the prayer and blessing of the food on the table, while the servants brought more. Lucrezcia watched the family inquisitively from her seat at the table.

Her older sister, Olga, the second sister, wore Septa's clothes. She had been studying the ways of faith for several years now, and had always been the neatest and quietest of them all.

Lucrezcia liked her sister, as broken as their relationship was, but that didn't take away from the fact that she thought she was stupid.

To Lucreczia, Olga was a coward, hiding under Septa's robes out of fear. Of her father and his business. Of marriage and of being sent to a strange place. She feared the unknown.

Somewhat, she through of herself the same.

There was a reason they were sisters

But Lucrezcia wouldn't hide in ugly garments, she was smarter than that. She would fight her father, she had been doing so since she came out of her mother's womb.

"...and may the Gods bless this supper and this family"

The four of them proceed to eat, well the other three did, Lucrezcia had been chewing a piece of cheese, under the menacing gaze of Septa Rowan, who was waiting at the door.

"The Maiden's day has been prolific, I hope"

Her father's voice broke the silence.

Lucrezcia tried to hold in her laughter, as little Patricia gulped down a handful of grapes to avoid her father's inquisitive gaze.

The little girl had tried to light several candles at the same time, inadvertently setting on fire one of the offerings on the statue of the Maiden.

"It has been... interesting" said Lucrezcia.

"I hope you enjoyed it, my dear. Considering it's your last day of the Maiden.... You'll be married by the next"

Lucrezcia abruptly dropped her fork and gritted her teeth.

She and her father had a duel of glances for a few moments. He wanted to provoke her, he knew her intentions.

Third child of one of the heirless men, with the two older sisters out of sight. Lucrezcia knew that if she waited, just a few years, and her father did not remarry, she could inherit the lands and fleets.

Luther was an intimidating man, one of the richest in the Seven Kingdoms, and therefore intelligent. An intelligence that his third daughter had inherited. Her father's head and her mother's rebellious spirit.

He had been trying to engage Lucrezcia with any man who offered a good deal. But it didn't matter. Lucrezcia knew how to chase them away.

"The last suitor you introduced me to had a better chance of making it to his funeral than to the wedding. If you offer me to another one, I might help him get to the funeral".

The Lord of the Arbor sipped from his wine glass.

"Watch your words"

"Will you force me?"

"Lucrezcia!" warned his sister.

"Sister Olga" replied graciously.

"Will you ever be demure?"

"Will you ever take that stick out of your ass?"

"Enough!" exclaimed the father.

Lord Redwyne rose from the table. He looked at his daughter menacingly. Only to be answered with the same impetus. How she reminded him of Vala, the iron maiden he had been promised who was more of a headstrong and a mother than without bringing sons into the world.

"Septa Olga, took little Patricia to her bedchambers, it's late" Luther waited for his two daughters to leave the room, and gave an order to the guards "Leave us".

Lucrezcia held her breath once the dining room door closed. It was not the first sermon her father had given her since she had blossomed.

It was after her mother's disappearance.

It was she who helped Livia affirm her marriage to a small lord of the Dornish marches, despite Luther's complaints.

Vala could be brusque and stubborn, she was not affectionate or kind. She loved her daughters, all four of them, in her own way. Lucrezcia liked to think that wherever she was, she was happier than she ever was on her island.

"You and your mischief, you have overstepped my bounds" his father began, "You have cost me nine septas in four years, you almost carried them with the stranger, Gods be damned". He ran a hand over his face. "I have given you opportunities, men from nearby lands, who will give you comfort and gold"

"Maybe I don't want their gold..."

I want my own.

She wanted to scream.

"And ten suitors later..." laughed the Lord "You've tried my patience, just as your mother did".

The mere mention of her mother stirred an anger she had been holding in. So much so that she grabbed the bronze goblet containing her wine and hurled it with all her might at her lord father.

The room fell silent. Lord Luther looked down at his wine-stained doublet with a cynical smile.

"But you are not alone, I too must succumb to the politics of marriage" he confessed.

Lucrezcia gave him a wary glance.

"Are you not too old?"

Lord Redwyne massaged his temple with his fingers.

"I am not getting any younger, my child. Your mother left without giving me an heir, so I must remarry and pray to the gods for a son" He said.

"We will sail to Oldtown in three days, where we will be met by Lord Hightower and my future wife. There too, waits," he let out a giggle like a naughty child, "Several lords of the Reach who have sons and castles that I can offer you for a well-negotiated dowry".

"You'll sell me for pennies"

"I am considering it" he said approaching her "But unfortunately you are too much, no man would accept you for free".

"And if your beloved son is born without a cock?" she spat.

"Then I will have the guarantee that you would be far away".

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Lucrezcia had not travelled much in her life, her mother always regretted. Vala loved sailing and discovery, something that had been taken away from her since her marriage.

Now, she had to collect all her belongings in suitcases and chests. To leave for an unknown place, as a present to an unknown man. She angrily pulled clothes out of their wardrobes, while her little sister watched from her dressing table chair.

Her two sisters went to see her off at the dock, where she was to sail to Oldtown. Olga held little Patricia in her arms to prevent her from running towards the ship.

The little one questioned his sister about everything, as she had never left the island. Patricia wished all the best for her older sister and it was clear that she would mourn her absence.

For unlike her father, she would not be returning to the Arbor, at least not for a long time.

Olga's necklace with the seven-pointed star hanging from her neck and ash-blond curls covered by the habit.

"But father will let us visit you, won't you father?" asked little Patricia. "Once you are married, we will go to see you, Lulu"

The girl had never considered herself sensitive, let alone affectionate. It was a trait inherited from her mother. Love was not something she could train or learn, but the love she felt for her sister made her heart shrink. If it weren't for the presence of the Arbor's entire retinue, she would have chained herself to the dock with her little girl.

"Of course you will, and Olga will help you to write letters. It'll be fine"

The little redhead looked up to her holy sister, waiting for affirmation. Olga seemed a little reluctant but offered the girl an attempt at a smile. The eldest of the sisters present had not uttered a word during the entire farewell, the ship would be leaving shortly. Lucrezcia thought she could see the words trying to escape her sister's thin, closed lips.

"Take care of her" said Lucrezcia.

"Don't I do it already?" she responded.

"Just... be present" said the younger one.

Be better than what you did with me.

Olga seemed to understand. She knew she had not been responsible for her younger sisters, not since her mother left and Livia married. It was not her duty, as far as it went, so she shut herself away in her books and her studies of the faith.

Lucrezcia was aware that it was not all her fault, not entirely. She herself knew that she was a difficult person. And if she could change it, she would.

"But you can't change who you are, so that's a problem for whoever crosses your path." Her mother said to her one day when they went hunting in the island's forests.

One last hug from the little girl, and a look of understanding between the older girls, and Lucrezcia and her father left on the ship for Oldtown.

The journey was short for the girl, who spent the entire crossing on deck, enjoying the sea breeze. They arrived in Oldtown harbour at sunset, where they were greeted by Ormund Hightower's retinue.

The city was built in stone, with all its streets cobbled, which can make them wet and slippery on a damp day.Most bridges are made of stone, although some wooden bridges can be found as well.The city itself is surrounded by massive, thick, high stone walls.Oldtown is a labyrinth of wynds, crisscrossing alleys, narrow crookback streets, and markets. These include the Thieves Market and Ragpicker's Wynd.

Luther and Lucrezcia settled in the High Tower, labyrinthine square fortress of unadorned black stone at the castle's foundation contains gloomy halls, vaults, and chambers.

The girl was grateful that she was not the one who had to carry her belongings up to her temporary quarters.

From the heights of her room, she could see practically all of the Reach. Her maid, a young bravoosi named Nyssa, who would be no older than she was, helped her prepare for the day ahead.

According to what her father and Ormund Hightower had discussed at dinner in the great hall, in the morning they would have lunch with her father's prospective new wife, Lord Tarly's daughter.

Later they would take a carriage to Honeyholt, the seat of House Beesbury in the Reach. It was situated along the eastern bank of the Honeywine river between Brightwater Keep and Oldtown. There, they would meet the long list of suitors that traveled from all corners of the Seven Kingdoms to try to marry her off.

As if.

"He expects me to believe that a bunch of men have travelled all the way to the ass end of the continent to marry a third daughter" she complained.

"Your father is one of the richest men in all of Westeros, my lady" Nyssa said in her clear accent. "I would travel as far as it took".

The dowry must have been very good then.

She wished Nyssa good night, but did not sleep until after the hour of the wolf. She felt like a fool; she had never been interested in romance, let alone expected a love match.

But in the loneliest hour, Lucrezcia hoped that her future husband (whom she would most likely meet tomorrow) would be a man who would respect and love her as she had only read about in books.

[daenysthedreamer101]

Blood of my blood

Ours is the house of the dragon. The fire is in our blood.

[darknight3904]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Rhaella is now 15, Aemond 14. Also, I've aged Benjicot Blackwood up he is now 16 in this fic.

130 AC

"I do not see why I must dress like this." Rhaella sighs, pulling at her dress, the corset is suffocating her.

"You are nearing the age to be wed. It is important you look your best." Edric says, "Stop fussing"

"I feel like I am being squeezed to death!" She whines as he hooks his arm with hers.

"It is only for the evening. Then, you will be able to wear your normal gowns." Edric says

"You speak so confidently, it is obvious you have never worn something like this." Rhaella groans

Maester Edric chuckles and gestures to his robe and chain.

"Forgive me, I'm not wearing a corset under all this. Although you never know."

Rhaella lets out an unlady like snort as they walk towards the throne room. King Viserys was hosting a ball, he had said it was just to celebrate his own rule, The queen had told her what it truly was. A way to meet suitors, after all she'd need to create an heir for Runestone. Rhaella hated the idea of marriage. She didn't want to leave the Red Keep and take her castle. Why couldn't Gerold rule for her? She wanted to stay here in the Capital with Aemond, swimming and reading until they fell over from exhaustion.

The ball is as grand as anyone could imagine. Lively music played as guests approached the high table to greet their king and his family. Viserys made a point to show Rhaella every eligible man who presented himself to her. Most of them were boring, all complimenting her beauty or here dress, one of them surprised her and had spoken a greeting in High Valyrian. Of course, he couldn't speak anything other than that greeting and she was left disappointed again.

"You remind me of Rhaenrya as a girl. Always quick to dismiss suitors without a second thought." Viserys says as some golden haired Lannister leaves them.

"Well they're all, twats." Rhaella says

"They are of the great houses of Westeros." Viserys says with a chuckle, "Some of them truly are twats though. Especially that last fellow."

Rhaella looks at Aemond who sits near his mother, Heleana on his left and Daeron on his right. If Aegon hadn't been present, Rhaella was sure he'd be the most bored at the table.

"Are there many more?" She whsipered, leaning towards Edric.

"A few, My Lady." He says sympathetically, "Perhaps you might dance with one, the night will go quicker."

"So they ask me boring questions? I'd rather let Sōna eat me." She laughed

"That might be less painful than a dance with some of them. I believe the Baratheon boy is drunker than even Aegon himself tonight." Edric says looking over at a very drunken first cousin of Lord Baratheon . The Lord of Storms End is trying to rouse his relative who is down for the night. At least Aegon's eyes were still open.

"My King." A voice greets, "My Lady."

"Lord Blackwood." Viserys greets

Rhaella turns her head, expecting another old man, or perhaps even an ugly young child who'd rather be playing with toys than greet the King. Instead, she was met with a tall and slim young man, short black hair sat atop his head, messy with curls.

"Lady Rhaella, I heard you claimed Sōna. I have heard tales that she is a marvelous beast, white as the winter snows from Winterfell." Lord Blackwood says

"She is magnificent, My Lord. Truly a marvel to see." Rhaella smiles, its the first compliment she's received all night that's not about her hair or beauty.

"If you ever have a chance, perhaps you can visit Raventree Hall. I'm sure she'd enjoy Blackwood cows as a treat. I'd love to see Dragonfire with my own eyes." He says

"Yes, that would be nice." Rhaella smiles

What an odd man, suggesting she visit his home to feed her dragon cattle. It was surely a different attempt at courting.

"Benjicot Blackwood, he's the young Lord of Raventree. A good match but his feud with the Brackens would drive any sane person mad." Edric says to her as Lord Blackwood goes back to his table.

"He is the only man close to my age in this hall tonight, and the only one who made interesting conversation." Rhaella points out looking at the room filled with older men and children alike.

"He suggested killing cows with your dragon as a form of entertainment." Edric says, looking Rhaella with questions in his eyes.

"It is better than talking of golden lions with the Lannisters." Rhaella says

"You are correct, my Lady." Edric smiles

Aemond could not believe what was happening in front of him. Rhaella, who had been dismissing suitors all night long with rude look or a comment was dancing with one of them. Benjicot Blackwood was twirling her around the floor like they were already wed and getting ready to celebrate for the next three moons.

"You are turning as green as mother's dress, Aemond." Aegon teases

"Ignore him." Heleana advises looking over at Aegon who shoves a bite of food into his mouth.

Rhaella's red and gold gown glitters under the lights of the many candles that light the room. Her silver hair is tied back, showing off how her face has sharpened over the years, baby fat falling away to give way to piercing Valyrian features. Aemond can feel his eye twitching with anger. Truly there was no reason for his current mood, there was no reason to be jealous over a single dance. Perhaps she was just being polite to Lord Blackwood.

It is when she tosses her head back to laugh at something he has said that Aemond cannot take it anymore.

"Mother, I want to leave. Am I dismissed?" He says, looking at his mother.

Queen Alicent lets out a sigh and gives him a nod.

"Straight to your chamber. I don't want you out with Vhagar now." She gives him a look

"Fine." Aemond conceeds, how did she know he was going to try to go for a nightime flight? A mother's intuition perhaps.

Rhaella laughs again as he's leaving. She leans in to whisper something to that idiot Benjicot as his hands are resting on her waist.

How disgusting.

Aemond hopes they both trip and fall face first into the pie that's being served to the guests. Maybe that would teach that barbaric Blackwood a lesson.

Rhaella finds Aemond the next day scowling in his chambers rather than in the training yard with Criston Cole.

"Are you sick?" She asks when she sits at the end of his bed

"I'm fine." Aemond grumbles

"Then why are you not training? Or at least meeting me in the Library like we usually do?" She questions

"I'm tired. Go away." Aemond groans, pulling his blankets over his head.

He had always been one for dramatics.

"You are acting like a spoiled child. What is wrong? Tell me." Rhaella commands, grabbing the covers and ripping them off him.

Aemond lets out a shout of dissaproval when he's exposed to the sunlight hits his eye.

"You haven't even dressed yet?" Rhaella asks looking at his night clothes "It is past noon!"

Rhaella's eyes are caught on Aemond's eye which is not covered by his eye patch. The sapphire that she had heard whispers about in the Keep was mesmerizing. He hadn't let her see his wound since he lost the eye.

"Don't you have somehwhere to be? A dance with Lord Benjicot Blackwood perhaps?" Aemond asked

Was that what all this was about? Surely Aemond wasn't jealous?

"Lord Blackwood is preparing to return to his home today. I do plan to see him off, but not if you are lying here, like some...self pitying...fool." She says

"I'm not a fool." Aemond says

"Then why are you acting like one?" She asks

Aemond suddenly sits up, Sapphire eye catching the bring sunlight that streams into his chamber. He's staring right at her and Rhaella suddenly feels nervous under his gaze.

"You can say goodbye to him, only if you promise to fly on Vhagar with me." He says

"What do you plan to do if I say no? Lock me up?" Rhaella rolls her eyes

"If I have to." Aemond jests

"I'd scream." Rhaella agues

"I'd gag you." Aemond declares

Rhaella huffs a sigh of frustation, Aemond was a wearisome individual today.

"Fine. One flight. But you're not allowed to let me fall off her." She agrees

Truthfully the idea of flying on Vhagar had always terrified her. That large of a beast taking to the sky was mortifying to her.

"Maybe I'll push you off." Aemond says, tone serious.

Rhaella shoots him a look, letting him know his joke has not been well received.

"Maybe I'll push you off and claim her for myself." Rhaella says

"I'd like to see you try." Aemond smirks

Next part

Guys I almost forgot Daeron was like...a thing so I had to mention his existence. Anyway, I love Bloody Ben so I had to give him a little cameo. Also when was HBO going to tell me that he's 12 during the dance? He is a whole child. Anyway, I've aged him up quite a bit here so its not as weird.

Also, whoever made this, they genuinely had me laughing on Pinterest...

Poor kid Aemond...

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[temporarily-your-saint]

Dull Blades Pt. 2

benjicot blackwood x targaryen oc

word count: 2.6k

warnings: slight spoilers from Fire & Blood book, blood/war description

tropes: slow burn, angst, forbidden lovers??

PART 1: https://www.tumblr.com/chels-cosplay/754806134048800768/dull-blades

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The campsite was riddled with mud and bloodthirsty men spread throughout as the princess made her way back. This was war, she thought to herself. So many men lined throughout the grounds ready to die for her family, for her mother’s right to the throne. She found pride in it yet a strain of sadness pinged inside her chest at the thought. A sorrowful notion enveloped her mind as she realized the reality of it all. Many of these men, if not most, will die. But there wasn’t time to dwell for she needed to be strong and prove to these men that it was worth it, that her mother, and that she too was worth it. And she was here to help.

Heads turned toward her as the silver-haired princess threw open the tent flap. Respectful bows followed with mutters of “princess” followed as she passed the men inside to take her position at the head of the table. Her eyes fell down at the map in front of her. It wasn’t quite the extravagant, fire-glowing map she had at home but it would do.

“Princess, the Lannister army holds fast and we’re running out of time. The Kinslayer could fly over at any moment with that beast of his. We must act immediately,” Forrest Frey’s words broke her away from her thoughts. Forrest Frey, or known as Fool Frey, lead his house with nearly eight hundred men.

“Why do you think our queen sent me this way, Lord Frey?” Her words were harsh, challenging the man next to her. Of course she knew they were running out of time. Her dragon, Valax, was the only one that could even come close to challenging Vhagar. And for this reason was the only way she was able to fully convince her mother to send her to the Riverlands to fight.

Lord Frey’s lips parted as if to begin speaking but was quickly interrupted as the tent swung open. Deep brown eyes found Rhaelana’s as she sized up the familiar figure that approached the table.

“Good of you to finally join us, Lord Blackwood,” sarcasm teased the princess’s words as her face remained stoic, gaze never leaving his.

“Princess,” he responded with nod, a mischievous smirk itching at the corner of his lips.

Her eyes scanned across the table to the other lords and then landed back to Lord Frey. “As we were discussing…Yes, time is not our ally at the present. The Lannisters have the disadvantage being on these lands though their numbers are impressive. More than impressive. If I was informed correctly, they stand with nearly twice as many bodies. And as stated before, Vhagar could be in the skies at any moment,” She sighed as she stated the unfortunate facts. The defense of the Greens was a terrifying factor to swallow but they had the North, and she knew they fought like no others.

“Lord Roderick, you will take your wolves to the front. You’ll be leading us.” Her arm reached across the table to move the marker in position. “Lord Frey will follow with his knights and infantrymen on either side to enclose the Greens. And Lord Blackwood,” her voice breathed, meeting those familiar eyes once again. “Lord Rivers will set your archers on the north. We’ll march south to meet the Greens where we’ll attack near Gods Eye.”

She took a deep breath as her voice lowered. “I need all of your fighters to push the Lannister army as close to the water as possible. I came here with my dragon to aid you in this battle but I will not set these lands aflame. These are your kin’s land and I will not dare turn it to fire and ash.”

The lords watched her, understanding her command. Her eyes searched theirs, looking to find respect or horror or disgust, anything to help gage where she stood amongst these men. Then her eyes found the young lord’s across the table once again. He watched her in awe, determined to fulfill her orders and win this war for her mother, for her. She turned her gaze away, a slight blush reaching up her neck to her cheeks from the intensity of his gaze.

“Best make an end to these lions before the dragons come, Princess,” Sir Roderick spoke up, breaking her from her train of thought.

“Ready your forces, my lords. We march at dawn.”

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“It’s over, princess.”

Rhaelana’s eyes darted around the battlefield. It was like casting one’s eyes over a red sea—blood staining the grass as far as their eyes could witness. Death surrounded them.

Water dripped from the princess’s face as rain began to fall. It was as if the heavens cried for them. Gods, it was a cruel world.

Lilac eyes found the lord next to her as he spoke. She nodded, agreeing with him. “Yes,” she began, reaching up towards her own face to wipe splattered mud and blood from her face. “But more is coming. We will need to prepare but tonight we rest, Lord Blackwood.”

"The men have earned it. Rest that is," Benjicot's head turned to meet Rhaelana's gaze, taking in the sight of the princess with a hint of melancholy.

He was an unwaveringly loyal supporter of his queen and had grown quite fond of her daughter, the princess that stood before him. His respect for her only grew during the battle as she fought alongside the men and women that gave their lives for the true crown. The fire that grew within her, a pure dragon through and through, was also impressive and a sight to behold. One that he would remember for the rest of his days.

His gaze dropped to the mud, flecked with red and brown, at their feet. Rhaelana’s eyes found his face, studying the young man. He was handsome with his high cheek bones and rounded face. A slim figure but a mighty and brutal force on the battlefield. She had quickly learned why he adopted the name “Bloody Ben” from the rest of the men.

“We can rest while we hold a funeral pyre tonight, princess. My men deserve that, at least. We have lost more than not. If you’ll permit it, that is.”

The princess’s eyes fell to the saturated ground as he mentioned the funeral. So many had given their lives. Her heart silently broke for those now laying before her amongst the muck. More than half of their men was gone.

“Listen to me, Lord Blackwood,” she spoke softly, almost in a whisper. “Every fight. Every battle you survive, you have to see the end. You must gaze upon those that are now gone.” Her voice hitched at the last word. “We at least owe them that. And we must never forget what it cost us.”

With that, she glanced at the young man next to her and reached out to touch his arm, almost as a condolence. Or maybe she needed to touch someone in that moment that was living, just to find some sort of warmth and comfort.

She then nodded her head toward him, dismissing herself as she strode past him and into camp.

Benjicot’s gaze followed her as she walked past him. He couldn’t help but miss the warmth that radiated from her hand as she left. Gods, and the comfort. It was only for a mere second but he ached for that comfort again, ached for any sort of relief from this hell he stood in. The young lord had seen death before but not like this. Never like this. Bodies of boys, barely even reached manhood scattered throughout the carnage now engraved into his brain. Rain drops hit his face, mixed with salty tears that trickled down, falling onto the blood-soaked ground.

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As the sun finally set, Benjicot’s thoughts kept drawing him back to Rhaelana. He thought of the melancholy look in her eyes and the tremble he'd heard in her voice. Her words echoed in his brain, not able to draw himself out from the memory of her.

The lord felt an odd sense of protectiveness towards the young princess. A protectiveness he loathed to ever admit out loud, especially since he knew she could hold her own. He had seen her fierceness first-hand on the battlefield, so it was almost comical to feel as if he needed to be the one to protect her. She had come to the Riverlands to do exactly that but for the North and for his men.

After eating a few bites of bread and smoked venison, Benjicot rose from his tent and picked his way through groups of men, looking for the Queen's daughter.

Rhaelana sat near the fire that was at the center of camp. The log below her dampened her legs and tunic but the flame before her kept her warm and dry enough. Luckily the rain had let up before nightfall but the chilly air still brushed along her face. Her cheeks appeared rosy, a flush spreading from her there up to her nose from that cool breeze. She certainly was not used to the chillier and wetter climate that the Riverlands provided.

She brought the mug she held to her lips, drinking in the strong ale and allowing the alcohol to warm her as well.

Benjicot's eyes continued to scan the camp until he caught sight of the young princess sitting by the campfire. Her silver hair and small frame was near impossible to miss. He approached her, stopping behind her toward the side.

"You will catch a chill," he drawled, his voice playful though a hint of worry was there. He stood behind her to shield her from most of the still-cold night air.

A smirk played at the corner of her mouth. She took one more sip and then turned toward the man next to her. The princess recognized his voice before she even turned her gaze toward him.

“If a cold takes me then I think that would be the least of my worries, my lord,” she teased as her purple eyes found his.

She tilted her chin toward the fire as she spoke, “Come, join me, Lord Blackwood.”

A smile tugged at his lips in response to her jape and Benjicot made a show of sighing before rounding the fire and sitting down next to Rhaelana. He boldly sat close to the princess, their legs almost touching.

"I dare say you're only asking because of the warmth I may offer," he teased back, watching the embers dance across her face.

Rhaelana’s smile never faltered as he teased while he made his way to sit next to her. She hadn’t quite gotten used to his wit and brazenness but was always pleasantly surprised by the young lord.

She adjusted her posture and brushed his leg with her own, playfully taunting back. A quickened pulse drummed in her ears as a light blush spread over her. His proximity was intoxicating and the alcohol she sipped only heightened her own boldness.

“And maybe I would like to enjoy some company,” she teased back.

Feeling the princess move closer, Benjicot dared to shift a bit closer to her as well. He knew they needed to behave for her sake, for her honor. She was the princess after all. But gods, did she captivate him.

Her words made the young lord look at her, taking in the slight blush that spread over her face. Despite her being age eight and ten, more than marriageable, in that moment she looked like a young girl flirting with peril.

"What sort of company would you like?" He asked, his voice lower and slightly breathier than usual, daring her to answer.

Her eyes fell from his stormy eyes to his lips. She traced over his handsome features with her own lilac ones. She memorized the scar that lay above his lip, the crook of his teeth as he smiled, the way his eyes beamed toward her with eagerness. He felt so familiar, so comfortable to her.

Her gaze then met his once again as she spoke, “Yours, specifically,” she stated boldly, her words falling from her lips in a whisper.

The answer surprised him and yet it didn't. Benjicot had noticed the glances she'd given him when she thought he wasn't looking. The way her hand lingered on his arm when she needed him to stay by her side after the battle. The way her eyes had trailed to and settled on his face every time he spoke.

As she sat next to him now, with their thighs and knees pressed together, he felt as if his heart was suddenly lodged in his throat. He swallowed once, hard.

"And what does my specific company entail, princess?" He asked quietly.

Of course she noticed that he was nervous. Or maybe excited? Both? She understood for her own nerves ran through her body and electrified her. The princess had never been this close to him before or any man for that matter. That fact made her heart pound in her ears, almost sure that he could also hear it.

Her voice didn’t rise above a whisper as she answered his question. “You are to keep your princess safe, Lord Blackwood,” she responded, the teasing never leaving her tone.

Benjicot’s mouth quirked to one side. In her playful tone he could hear her bravado, her attempt at hiding her own nervousness.

He moved even closer, closing nearly all the space that was between them.

"Well, that is my duty...my lady,” as he spoke, he reached upwards carefully. His hand hovered over her cheek for a few beats before gingerly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

His fingers lingered on her skin, just above her cheek, feeling the warmth from her body.

He moved closer, so close that he could smell the sweet scent of lavender and ale that emitted from the young woman. She was intoxicating. He was close enough to count the minute freckles that dotted her nose as his eyes scanned her face.

“Benjicot. Or, Benji. You can call me Benji," he said quietly, gaze finding hers once again, then drifting down to her lips.

He suddenly felt very, very nervous. For the first time in his life, Benjicot Blackwood had no idea what to say or do next.

Rhaelana’s mind raced. He was so close, so close she could move just a mere couple of inches and she’d—

“Princess,” his voice whispered, snapping her from her thoughts. “We should turn in until the morrow.”

Gods, he wanted her to oppose him. He wanted to stay here, warming the princess during the bleak night. But he knew better. He knew they couldn’t risk unsolicited eyes surveilling their current position.

The princess’s heart sank as she drew back away from Benjicot at his words. Of course, how could I be so careless? Maybe it’s the ale… Did I read into him wrong?

She took one last sip of her ale, emptying the cup and stood from her seat next to him. Disappointment clung to the inside of her chest, causing her heart to ache as it clenched around it with every beat.

“Goodnight, Lord Blackwood. Until the morning,” Rhaelana nodded her head towards him and then turned away to strode towards her tent, dismissing herself.

Benjicot sat dumbfounded, disappointed, and confused. He knew he had done the honorable thing, especially by preventing any sort of gossip that could potentially spread if the wrong eyes gawked at them. But why did he feel so discontent?

He decided then that he would make things right with the princess in private where wandering eyes couldn’t defile hers or his reputation.

══ ══ ══ ══ ══ ══ ══ ══ ══ ══

HI, HELLO! I was so excited to write a second part and now that we’re here, I am even more thrilled to continue on with a third one. I truly thought I was only going to do a one-shot but uh, I live for a slow burn romance. Thank you all for taking the time of day to read this little blurb that’s been stuck in my brain. I am clearly still all aboard the fancast Benjicot train. :’) We only know pain here, huh?

[catsteeth]

Turn Your Cloak - Pt. 2

Benjicot/Davos Blackwood x reader 

+:✿ Request ✿:+ Original One Shot

Request: “A part 2 of the Benjicot Blackwood one shot. Reader returns to Dragonstone and shows Rhaenyra the letter from Benji, the two of them bond. Benjicot staying at Dragonstone for the remainder of the war. Benji being a huge simp for reader. A little spicy with dry humping, but no actual smut” CW: MDNI, grinding, making out,  afab reader, alcohol consumption, mention of arranged marriage, mention of medieval sexting, mention of violence,  A/N: woof woof Word Count: 9K

It had been a long night at Dragonstone for your Mother Rhaenyra. She had expected you back home late that night, but the sun began to rise and you had yet to return. She spent the night restlessly pacing back and forth. She would have taken Syrax to the Riverlands herself if it weren’t for the Knight whom burst into her chambers to announce, 

“Your Grace, the Princess and Silverwing were spotted approaching over the sea.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Rhaenyra stormed into the gantry, ready to either berate you for causing her such distress or declare war on whomever harmed you. 

As she saw you dismounting Silverwing, unharmed, her concern faded and her anger rose. 

Her steps were heavy and quick, she huffed as she began to shout “Where have you-”

Before she could finish her question, you extended your hand towards your mother. Holding a scrolled piece of parchment, sealed by red wax stamped with the Blackwoods symbol. “An official proposal of marriage from Benjicot Blackwood.” You said with a prideful smile, knowing you had completed your task and accomplished it on your own terms.

Your mother’s angry demeanor dropped, surprised by your words and happiness. “Blackwood?” She questioned with furrowed brows, confused.

You nodded with a smile, “I wish to marry him, mother.” 

Rheanrya looked at your smile with confusion, then looked at the scroll in her hands, “I-” She began, but soon took hold of your hand and pulled you along. “Come here.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─

As she pulled you into a secluded room, she preyed the wax seal off of the parchment and began to read it in haste. 

You furrowed your brows, unsure of why she would not rejoice with you. She wanted this afterall. “Do you contest it?” You questioned, genuinely confused. 

She shook her head, “No.” She said calmly, looking up from the parchment and back at you. “I am simply surprised.” She said, a small smile creeping its way onto her face. “You left here begging to not wed, no more than a day ago. And here you are, handing me a proposal of marriage with a smile.” She said with an amused smirk as she stepped towards you.

You shrugged, “I admit I did not enjoy the men who contended, nor did I enjoy being contended for.” You said with a raised eyebrow and annoyed huff, thinking back to that horrid procession. 

She let out a breath of a laugh, “Well then he must have contended well enough.” She said, rolling up the parchment. 

You smiled to yourself, though you tried to conceal it poorly “He did not contend for my hand.” Your mother looked at you with confusion. “He fought valiantly against a Bracken who defiled our name, and questioned my parentage.” You looked at your mother and smiled warmly, “When I thanked him, that was when he proposed.” You couldn’t contain the blush creeping onto your cheeks as you thought of it,  “Away from prying eyes and ears.” That was true. But you would leave out the bit of that night where his fingers were pleasuring you. You looked at your mother with much more earnest eyes, “I feel I can depend on him, lean on him. And I feel he has humility. And he feels he can lean on me.” You said as you stepped closer to her, placing a hand onto hers.

Your mother smiled, and took your hand that held hers. “Then you have done the crown and your mother the queen a great service. A raven will be sent to the Blackwoods in haste. And we shall invite… Bran?...” She drawed out, attempting to remember the poor boy's name.

“Benjicot-” You corrected,

She immediately interrupted you and corrected herself, “Benjicot Blackwood will be invited warmly to live here at Dragonstone until the end of the war. Once the war has been won, you and he shall wed.” She and you smiled at one another. She, happy her daughter whom was forced to pick a spouse not only did so but found one she loved. And you, happy you found the person you would commit your life to. You mothers eyes, became slightly narrowed, “Gōntan mirros massigon rȳ ao se bisa valonqar?” “Did something happen between you and this boy?” She asked in Valyarian. Not wishing for anyone else to hear. She looked at your look of surprise and confusion, “Ao istan hen ry bantis. Nyke daor, issa hāedar. Nyke sepār- īlon līs sagon. Lo jorrāelagon sagon nyke kostagon syt nykeā sūmar naejot sagon-” “You were gone all night- I am not placing judgment, sweet girl. I just- we must be cautious. If need be I can arrange for a tea to be given-”

You shook your head, “No.” Though your mothers eyes still narrowed you realized that you had not explained why you were gone all night. “We were trapped within the Riverlands from a storm.” 

And with that, she was convinced. Though if the honest truth was told, you wished you were in need of such tea.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

And so the raven was sent, and eagerly Lord Blackwood responded with great enthusiasm as you expected. Benjicott would of course accept the invitation to Dragonstone. You wanted to take Silverwing to the Riverlands and bring him back home yourself. But your mother insisted on a more traditional manner. 

Your grandsire, Corlys and your brother, Jace escorted you to the harbors of the Vale. You stood at the front of your Grandsires ship. The Queen Who Never Was. You watched the land before you came closer and closer with a growing anticipation. It nearly startled you when you felt a strong hand caress your shoulder. You looked over your shoulder to see your Grandsire, Corlys. 

“I was about your age when I was wed to your grandmother.” He said with a comforting smile. “I was more nervous than when I first sailed to battle.” He said with a comforting pat on your back. 

You smiled at him and shook your head, “I am not nervous.” 

He let out a low and dry chuckle, “You never are.” He said as he watched the land approach the ship.

You looked at the party waiting at the harbor. Blackwood's banners flew in the wind. And you could see from such a distance, Lord Willem Blackwood already waving down your ship. You grimaced and then looked towards Corlys, “Grandsire.” 

“Hm?” He hummed.

You looked at him as you scrunched up your face, “I should warn you of his uncle, Willem.” 

He raised an eyebrow and looked at you with confusion, “Warn me?” No one would ever frighten Corlys, much less pose a threat to him. But what he did not know is that you were not speaking of a threat to his safety but to his patience. 

As the ship docked into the harbor, you smiled at Willem and waved back as you leaned into your grandsire, “Just smile at his words and ignore the rest.” you spoke through your teeth. 

As soon as you and your grandsire stepped off the boat, Willem Blackwood stepped forward, embracing you firmly. 

Your eyes went wide, surprised but unwilling to push the man off. Your grandsire debated tearing the man off of you but soon enough he let you go as he announced with great enthusiasm. “The princess!” He said as he patted your arms excitedly, “You’ll be my niece now eh? My niece the princess-” Soon your eyes darted behind him. You saw him, Ben. You watched him approach as he carried a bag of his belongings while scowling at his uncle for embarrassing him and annoying you and your family. Once Willem noticed his nephew coming he then excitedly announced, “And my nephew the prince!” He said with a hard pat to Ben’s back.

“Uncle.” Benjicot said in a deep and annoyed tone. Both a greeting and a warning for him to stop talking.

You smiled, trying to hold back blush as Ben’s eyes fell onto you. You bowed your head slightly as you greeted him. “Lord Blackwood, a pleasure.” You tried to remain formal around your families, for they did not know how intimate you both had become.

Ben’s gaze softened as he looked at you. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles gently, then bringing your hand close to his heart. “My Princess, I am eternally honored and grateful for your hand.” Ben then looked to your Grandsire who stood protectively by your side. “Lord Corlys, an honor to meet you and board your ship.” He said with a respectful bow of his head. 

Corlys’s lips began to curl into a smile, he might have even patted the boy on the shoulder. But he was interrupted by Lord Willems' voice booming once again.

“Suppose that would make Lord Corlys your grandsire by law!” He said with another hard pat to Ben’s back. Benjicot closed his eyes and grimaced from the embarrassment. 

Your grandsire let out a sharp exhale as he placed a hand on your shoulder, “We’d better board.” He said with a put on smile.

Benjicot nodded, “Agreed.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Once you boarded the ship, you found Benjicot standing at the railing of the ship alone.

“Do you like the sea?” You asked as you approached him. Ben’s eyes lit up as he turned to see you.

He smiled softly, turning his body to face you completely leaning against the railing of the ship. He shook his head, “Never seen it before. Only seen the rivers.” He took the sight of you in, “Quite different.” You continued to come closer to him. You stopped as your feet nearly touched his own.

You shook your head, “Not so different. Rivers flow to the sea, and the sea to the rivers.” You looked out to the waves of blue that surrounded the ship, “It’s such a thing of beauty.” you said taking in the sight.

Ben looked at you with loving eyes, “Yes it is.” You blushed, knowing he did not mean the ocean but you. He then finally turned his head to look at the water, “You’ll rule over it all someday.” 

You nodded, “That is true enough though I am unsure how fit I am for it.” you said as you looked down at your fingernails picking at your nail beds nervously.

Ben looked at you confused at your statement, “How do you mean?” He crossed his arms and looked at you closely. Wanting to listen to you as intensively as possible.

You looked at him with a slight annoyance. Surely he knew what you meant. The world knew what you meant. You looked over your shoulder to be sure no one was there to hear your words, “You understand what you are marrying?” You asked him with narrowed eyes.

He nodded confidently without hesitation, “A woman, a woman as brave and intelligent as she is beautiful.” His words were earnest.

You sighed, looking at the sea. You debated whether you should say such treasonous truths openly. But you were alone, and he was to be bound to you for life. So you began, softly speaking “My father taught me to fish, sea shanties, the ways of the sea and how to sail a ship through it. He loved me, my grandmother loved me too. So does my grandsire. They are my family, but they are not my blood.” Ben did not look surprised, nor did he look disappointed. That was when you knew he knew it. “You know it. They all know it. So do you, you are not an idiot.” You said, rolling your eyes.

He shook his head and took your hand into his, “I don’t care.” He was not in denial as your grandsire Viserys was. He knew it was the truth, he simply did not care about such pious, hypocritical, and righteous shit.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You should care. Your children by my womb will-”

“Will be my only children.” He interrupted you, not willing to hear you speak ill of yourself or your future children, “I do not care, if you had the blood of swineherds. I do not care what color your hair is. What I care for is you.” He asserted firmly.

You felt your heart melt. Though you knew the real consequences of your birth, “If the greens win, they’ll kill me.” you said somberly, wanting to prepare him for such a possibility. 

“No one will ever touch you.” He said as if it were a fact. 

“Sister.” Jaceryous’s voice called out startling you. 

“Jace.” You said out of breathe, “This is Benjicot Blackwood-” 

Jace interrupted, “Seven blessings to you both. Sister, I must speak with you alone.” He said, his voice devoid of any earnest happiness. 

You sighed at your brother, “Alright. In a moment.” you said, waving him off dismissively. You waited for him to walk back inside the ship before you turned to Ben, “I am sorry for him.” 

Ben shook his head, “It’s alright, he is distrusting of me for good reason. He does not know me and wants to protect you and your blood.” He trusted Jace more for it, and appreciated him more for it as well. 

You however did not share such sentiments. You held his face in your hands, “You are my blood now.” You said as you kissed him one last time before making your way into the ship to follow after Jace. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─

As you entered his cabin you huffed, “That was behavior unbefitting a prince.” you sneered at him. 

Jace however did not care of your concerns of how he treated your betrothed. He handed you a piece of parchment, “Read this.” he said quickly. 

As you read the letter it unveiled the plans your mother was planning in you and your brother's absence. To send ships to King's Landing to bring back Targaryen bastards to become dragon riders for her claim. 

Though you were thrilled with the idea, it was better than defeat. “This is good is it not?” You questioned. 

Jace took the parchment from your hand and huffed at you, “How could that be good?” he asked with his ever present attitude. 

You raised a brow at him “Was this idea not of your own doing? You thought of a Tarly on top of a dragon because it is better than death and defeat.” 

“A bastard on a dragon?” He said as if it were ridiculous. 

“It’s not unheard of.” You mumbled to yourself. 

“This is serious.” Jace affirmed, “If she follows through with this plan, she brings more questions to our parentage.” He said as if you were a fool. 

You scoffed at your brother’s vanity. “People need nothing to question it when they’ve eyes.” You looked at him, your eyes softening. “Make your peace with it.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Back on Dragonstone, though the war was not over, preparations for your wedding were underway with haste. It was clear as soon as the war was done, your courtship would be as well. Making good on the promise your family made to the Riverlands. 

You stood in front of a mirror in your wedding gown that was being tailored to you. It was not like a traditional Targaryen gown. It was ivory with thick lace embroidery throughout the fabric, like the way sea foam floats against the surface of the ocean. Adorned with pearls sewn into the fabric sporadically. The sleeves were fitted up to your elbow, where they flared out, flowing freely like the way seaweed flows in the ocean. Underneath these bell sleeves were a second layer of sleeves with a distinct pointed design. Your inner sleeves were more fitted around the wrist as they extend out into a sharp point over the back of the hands. Pearls were sewn into the thick embroidery that lined the pointed cuffs of your sleeves that cascaded over the backs of your hands. The dress was long and flowed behind you like a river.

You’d even worn a pigment on your eyelids. A shining blueish, pinkish, silver, that came from crushed seashells. Your lips and cheeks blushed as the veil was placed onto your head. The veil drapes elegantly over you, slightly covering your forehead, draping against your shoulders before flowing behind you and dragging along the floor. The veil is crafted from lace, with an ornate pattern. The intricate lacework is densely populated with aquatic motifs. Along the edges, the lace appears scalloped. The most eye-catching feature along the veil’s border are teardrop-shaped pearls, hanging like delicate droplets from the edge of the fabric. 

“I never thought I would see you in a veil.” Baela said as she fixed how the veil hung around your shoulders admiring the details of the fabric. 

You smiled at your reflection, and shook your head. “Neither did I.”

You really didn’t. You were content to live your life on dragon back. You were content to die on dragon back, in fire and blood. But now the tides had shifted. You felt more reason to continue, more reason to live, a reason that was not revenge. 

Baela smiled as she looked at you in the mirror, “He certainly seems taken with you.” She’d only seen glimpses of he and you, but even in those moments, the look in his eyes told it all. 

You blushed and looked down, fidgeting with the pearls on your sleeve, “I must admit I am taken with him.”

She breathed a laugh, “I assumed as much. You’d never take a husband if he were not truly exceptional in your eyes.” She said with an amused tone.

You nodded, “Beat a Bracken to a bloody mess in the mudd over an insult against my name.” you said with a girlish smile on your face. 

Her eyes widened slightly, “Exceptional indeed.” she nodded. 

“How beautiful you look.” Your mothers voice chimed in unexpectedly, making you almost flinch. Her voice was soft, and her eyes looked like she just might cry seeing her daughter in a wedding gown. 

Baela looked to Rhaenyra and knew she wanted this moment to be alone with you. She bowed her head to her before leaving the room.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, fidgeting with the fabric, “It is not quite traditional for a Targaryen.” you noted. 

“No.” She said as she approached you. She placed her hands on your shoulders and looked at you in the mirror, smiling at how beautiful you looked. “Traditional for a Valyrian.” 

You did not say anything to the remark, but turned your head to your mother, “Have you met him yet?” You asked softly, “Benjicot?”

She shook her head, “I have not, I intend to do so as soon as I am able. But your grandsire says he seems quite loyal to you.” She said with a soft smile as she ran her hand over your hair that hid behind your veil.

You smiled though you tried to hide it, “He is.” you nodded. You looked back at yourself in the mirror, “Do you think it’s too much?” You fussed with the neckline of your dress, “I feel I look silly.”

“No. Not at all.” She said, still smiling as she took your face into her hands, “Skorkydoso biare aōha kepas sagon.” “How proud your fathers would be.” She spoke in High Velaryon. 

Her words though sweet made you feel melancholy, “I wish they could be here. I did not often think of my wedding as a girl. Though when I did, I imagined them, and Luke, Viserys, and Rhaenys. I imagined them all there.”

“My sweet girl.” She tried to comfort you, “You will have your mother, your brothers, your grandsire, your cousins who shall soon be your sisters.”

You shook your head, “Nyke jurnegon hae iā pirtir” “I look like a pretender.” 

Your mother huffed, “Iksā lopor se embar, ānogar se perzys.  Kesan rȳbagon daorun tolī hen bisa. Iksā iā Targārien, konir sagon mirre bona.” “You are salt and sea, blood and fire. I will hear nothing more of this. You are a Targaryen, that is all that matters.” 

You bit your lip, not knowing what to say. But soon your curiosity got the better of you. “Are the smallfolk you summoned arriving today?”

Her eyes softened, having sympathy for your grief, “Yes.” She soon became slightly defensive, “Do you disapprove of this as your brother?”

“No.” You lied. And tore the veil from your head off. “I mislike it. My fathers dragon being passed to someone I do not know. But we need more riders. I want revenge. I want you to win. So, whatever must be done.” You said reluctantly as you began to take off the gown you wore. 

Your mother, feeling guilty, tried to help you. She felt your skin, surprised at how warm you were, “You feel hot.” She said, worried you were ill. 

You shook your head, continuing to take off your gown, “I get angry when I think of it.” 

She did not know if you meant the war or the bastards and did not dare ask. “You should take to Silverwing.” She said, If she could not comfort you, perhaps your beast would. 

“I intend to.” You said stepping out of your gown. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you took to Silverwing in the sky, you and she danced over the sea. You practiced the same commands and movements again and again. You rode her, plunging her down, her feet and tail slashing against the surface of the sea. Just as you would in battle. You would get her low, and say the word… “Dracarys!” Her flames would envelop Criston Cole's armies, though only now they died out as they hit the water. Then you pulled her back up, and up, and up into the skies until you and she met the clouds. You were getting good at navigating through clouds, mist, and fog. You’d not allow Aemond to get any advantage over you.

Though soon again you and she twirled and glided back down. Weaving through the sky as you imagined the battle.

Though what you did not know was that Benjicot was watching your movements in awe of you. He leaned against the stone hedge that surrounded the cliftside of Dragonstone and allowed himself to get lost in you and Silverwings dance. So lost he’d not notice your mother approaching behind him. 

“My daughter is a skilled rider.” She said as she approached him.

Ben startled, turning to your mother and bowing his head, “Your grace.” he said respectfully. She waved her hand for him to relax. He looked back to you in the sky, “She’s magnificent.”

Rheynera nodded, “Silverwing was her great great grandmother's dragon. She is a beautiful and formidable creature, that is sure.” She said as she made her way to Benjicots side watching you in the sky. 

Ben looked at your mother, “I meant your daughter.” 

She looked at him, somewhat surprised “Yes, yes she is. She is also beautiful and formidable.” She said, breathing a laugh, “You and I will share a commonality.” She began, facing him. “I assume you have gathered by now, my daughter- the princess is a woman of strong will.” 

“Yes.” Ben said as he nodded with a smile

“I do not wish for my daughter to see war. I have lost my son, and I will not lose her.” She spoke as if she were giving Ben a mission of his own, “She is steadfast on accomplishing her revenge. That is what she is doing now. Preparing to burn green armies to ash.” She said as she looked towards you in the sky. “I fear her brother wishes to fight for his own pride. But she wishes to fight for revenge.” She looked back to Ben, “I am her mother. My word means little. She will obey my order as her Queen, but it will not settle the rage in her.” She looked at him hopefully, “Perhaps you can.” 

He looked at you for a moment, then back to Rhaenyra, “I am devoted to your daughter's safety. To her happiness. With the greatest of respect to your Grace, I’ll not prevent her from any action she wishes to take.” She felt somewhat surprised that a man of his status would openly disobey the word of the queen. But it made her happy that someone would do such a thing for her daughter. “However, I will try with all my being to ease that anger and bring her some kind of happiness.” He said before leaving. 

Rhaenyra stood there, unsure of what to make of this first encounter. But soon realized she was lucky, you were lucky, to be blessed with a man who’d do anything to please you. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Back in the castle, Jace found his mother in her council chambers. “I am unsure of him.” Jace said, weary of a newcomer to his family. Both in a time of war and treachery as well as the threat that he may only marry you to raise the status of his house. 

Rhaenyra shook her head softly, “He has embraced his role as her husband with great pride, warmth, and passion. A rare thing in political marriage.” She said defending him and you. 

Jace scoffed, “He beat a Bracken senseless. Hardly a marriage to mend ties with the Riverlands.” He argued back

“He defends her name with fierce loyalty, defends my name and yours.” She defended once again, “And we have mended ties with the Riverlands.” 

Jace sighed, “How can we be certain he can be trusted.” 

“He has given us no reason to not.” She shrugged, “He has shown unwavering respect and admiration. And a fierce loyalty to her protection and honor.” She looked to Jace with adoring eyes, “I would say you are simply protective of your sister’s heart, as you should be. Though I believe he may share that same protectiveness.” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

You sat up on top of a high hill, listening to the crashing of the waves and the loud breathing of Silverwing. You were watching the waves, waiting for the ship of Targaren Bastards to approach. You had a pit in your stomach, you did not want for this. You knew it would only add insult to injury. But you also knew it would be critical to your mother’s success in this war.

Though you could not sulk for very long before you heard the long grass of the hill rustling more than it normally did. As you turned around you looked and saw Benjicot as he pounced upon you. Wrapping his arms around you in a playful attempt to scare you. And it worked. You squealed as he took hold of you. But Silverwing let out a growl that made him let you down gently.

“Men should not sneak up on women!” You said breathlessly as you tried not to giggle. 

He bit his tongue as his hands found your sides again, though moving slowly as to not upset your protective beast, “Don’t act so coy after you sent such letters.” He said with a devious smirk. 

It was true, you and he had exchanged many letters since you returned to Dragonstone. Before you had sailed to get him you and he sent three private letters. Each more explicit than the next. You could not help it. He had given you a taste of mortal pleasure and you longed for so much more.

You smirked back at him, and shook your head. “That is no way to speak to a princess.” you teased. 

He cupped your chin with his hand, “My Princess.” He kissed your lips softly, and gently. As he pulled away he spoke again though this time more earnestly, “You rode valiantly.”

You blushed slightly, you did not know he was watching you ride, and you felt somewhat embarrassed. But you smiled, “Thank you, my Lord,” You pushed him off of you playfully, “or perhaps I should say my Prince now.” you teased as you continued to walk along the tall grass hills overlooking the ocean.

He followed after you, “You know I don’t like that title.” 

You nodded, looking back at him, “I know it riles you. Makes your blood hot.” You smirked at him. 

He ran after you once again, grabbing hold of your arm and pulling you into him, “Are you challenging me?” He asked with a lustful gaze. 

You raised your eyebrows at him, looking at him with big innocent eyes. “All good wives should challenge their husbands.”

He nodded and bit his lip as he came closer to you, “You are a constant challenge. Challenging my restraint, and my ability to protect your virtue.” He said his eyes trailing from your eyes to your lips to your neck. 

You ran your hands from his neck to his chest, then pressed your lips to his own, “Mmm…” You moaned into his lips as your hand continued to wander further down over his stomach. Making him groan softly into your lips as well. You grabbed hold of his cock through his breeches making his hiss and breaking your kiss. You looked at him with a mischievous grin, “Because I do not wish for my virtue to be protected.” You said as you pushed him back again and ran off again laughing at him. 

He growled under his breath as he ran after you. He tackled you to the ground but you overpowered him, flipping him onto his back. You took his wrists and placed him above his head pinning him down. He could have overpowered you back but didn’t. He enjoyed this view far too much. He smiled up at you breathless. “I think we’re a good match don’t you?” You said in a seductive tone. 

He bit his tongue and laughed, nodding, “A very good match.”

You leaned down and kissed him. “I missed you.” You said breathlessly between kisses and moans. “I kept all your letters, read them again and again.”

He groaned, he held your face as he passionately kissed you. “Your last letter near drove me mad, you know?”

You giggled to yourself quietly, “I hope you made good use of my smallclothes.”

He nodded, “I did.” He groaned and squirmed a bit, “I’m already getting hard thinking of it.” 

He was, you could feel it underneath your clothed cunt.

Ben put his hands firmly around your thighs, squeezing you tightly. It made you squeal. The sound of it made Silverwing stir from her slumber. Which in turn made Ben loosen his grip on you. Scared to upset your beast. 

You chuckled to yourself lowly, “Don’t worry about her.” you shook your head.

“Easy enough for you to say.” He scoffed, “If she thinks I’m harming you she’ll swallow me whole.” 

You laughed slightly amused by his fear, “No she won’t.” You shook your head, “She and I are bonded by old Valyria. She can feel what I feel. She knows I am not scared of you.” You tried to tell him but he was still not completely convinced. Though you were sure overtime he would see. You turned to Silverwing, “Silverwing, jikagon arghugon!” You commanded, and she flew off and away into the sky.

Ben looked up at you in awe of your abilities, “What did that mean?”

You looked back down at him, surprised that he would take such an interest, “Silverwing, go hunt.”

He sat up on his elbows, getting closer to you, “Teach me your language.” 

You smiled, it was a sacred language. One only taught to the noble and wealthy. But he was to be your husband, and your children’s father. “Vūjigon issa.” You said with a soft smile, 

“Vūjigon issa?” His pronunciation was not perfect, but good for someone just beginning to learn the language. “What did that mean?”

“Kiss me.” You said with lustful eyes, and he obeyed eagerly. Pulling your face to his and kissing you passionately. 

You could feel him hardening even more beneath you. You couldn’t help but rock yourself against it. The bulge of his breeches rubbed against your cunt in the most delicious way. He gripped onto the plush of your ass and helped you rub against him harder. Your moans into his mouth only encouraged his cock.

“You feel so good,” He moaned into your lips. 

“So do you.” You moaned back, you began to grind against his cock harder, rolling your hips into a rhythm, “I can feel you- throbbing.” You whimpered against his lips. 

He ran his hands through your dark hair, pulling it as you continued to rub against him, “If good wives challenge their husbands, you’ll be the best.” He wanted more than anything to take you right then. To tear the neckline of your dress and push up your skirts and fuck you like an animal would. 

He tried to keep himself in control but it slipped through his fingers for just a moment as he flipped you onto your back.

You moaned, and breathlessly you pleaded, “I want my husband to fuck me.”

He groaned, and shook his head, “I’m not your husband yet,” He was angry he had to wait so long to make you his in the eyes of the realm and the gods. “Ah it’s fucking torture. I need you to be my wife.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him, “You need me to be your wife to fuck me?”

“How good of a husband can I be if I cannot protect my intended’s virtue?” He said with a grin, but his grin faded as he ran his hand against your cheek, “But I don’t need you to be my wife just so I can fuck you- I need you to be my wife because I love you.” 

The words slipped from his lips. You felt just as thrown off as he did. 

You’re eyes went wide, “You-” 

“I love you.” He asserted firmly. He had no doubt in his mind he loved you. Ever since he saw you on that beast. 

You smiled, a smile of pure bliss. “I love you.” You said back to him with loving eyes. 

You both let out a breath of relief, and laughed for a short while. He rested his forehead against your own and kissed you once before.

“Say it in Valyrian.” He asked with a smirk, 

“Avy jorrāela.” You said holding his face adoringly. 

“Avie jorraela.” His pronunciation was still not perfect but it was well enough. 

Your lips met once again, and he began to grind his cock into your clothed cunt again. The friction making him moan into your mouth, and you into his. You bit his lip in desperation, wanting so much more than he was giving you. 

You then rolled him back over onto his back. He laughed breathlessly for a moment before he was interrupted by a moan leaving his lips. 

As you kept rolling your hips and grinding against him, your hands went to the laces of your dress. Pulling them loose. Ben thought he might die when he saw your shoulders becoming further and further exposed. 

“We can’t-“ He shook his head frantically. 

“I know-“ You nodded, “Can we just do this? It feels so good-“ You said as you continued to moan.

As you kept going, your dress began to slip lower and lower. His eyes fixated on your body as your dress exposed your breasts, “Keep going-fuck! You’re so beautiful.” He knew he would be done soon enough. The sight of your body was enough to make him mad.

“I want you in me so badly.” You moaned, 

Gods you were driving him mad, begging so beautifully as you rocked against him, breasts bouncing. 

He moaned, “Fuck-I can’t- I want to but I, I can’t sully you.” His eyes went dark, “I’d kill any fucker who tried.” He growled possessively. 

“I love you bloody-” You smirked, but your smile was interrupted as your face contorted in pleasure again. “Qopsa” “Harder.” You moaned, and reached for his wrist. Pulling his hand to grab hold of your breast. Knowing he was too shy to do it himself.

He groaned, and you could feel him throbbing underneath you, “I’m going to-” 

You nodded, “I know, so am I.” You leaned over, practically laying on top of him as you continued to grind against him. You lips and his collided as you both reached your peak.

You rolled onto your back. Laying there side by side together trying to catch your breath. Ben rolled onto his side and propped himself up by his elbow as he looked over you.

“How did the Gods bless me with such a maiden?” He asked breathlessly with an absent minded smile.

You smiled back, and shook your head, “They blessed you with nothing. I chose you.” You said placing a hand on his cheek.

Ben took your hand that held his cheek, and brought it to his lips to kiss your palm “Then I must worship you.”

You looked over to the ocean, and noticed a ship approaching. You knew it was the one harboring the Targaryen’s that were about to risk their lives for a new life. You sat up, pulling up your sleeve over your shoulder. 

“We should head back.” Your demeanor changed. From one of relaxed bliss to one of contempt. 

He sat up, and began helping tighten the laces of your dress for you, “How do you feel about this?” He questioned gently. 

You shook your head, and sighed. As he finished with the ties you stood, “It matters not what I feel.”

He stood, and grabbed your wrist, “Of course it does. It does to me.” he asserted. 

You looked at him, and sighed. “My mother has been left with few options. Her choice is to win or die.” You shook your head, “Her choice is to win, or we all die. And I am not blind to the irony, I know I am no more deserving of a dragon than they are.” Ben wanted to interject and argue that point in the opposite direction but you continued, “So I must support this course of action though it tastes of ash and blood in my mouth.”

You tried to continue on, but he pulled you back once more, “I did not ask about the war. I asked about you.”

You looked down to the sea, at the ship approaching. “I tried to claim Seasmoke when I was ten and two.” You turned to Ben, “I had just lost my father and I wanted his dragon desperately. I thought if I had him, I’d have a bit of my father. So I snuck into the dragonpit.” He smiled at the thought of you doing that. “Perhaps it was too soon for him, or perhaps I was not ready but Seasmoke nearly killed me. He opened his jaws and readied himself to burn me. But Silverwing scared him off.” You looked down, shamefully, “I always thought he knew I didn’t have pure Valaryian blood.” Your tension began to rise, “If a bastard born from some silver haired Targaryen who spent too long in a pleasure house, would be able to claim him and I couldn’t-” You took a deep breath, looking at Ben, “I mislike all of this. But I understand the order of things.” 

You finished as you continued on down the hill. Ben was not far behind. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You did not attend the claiming of the dragons. You knew it would be bloody. You also did not wish to seem as if you were enthusiastic about this plan of action.

Though with supper approaching, you figured you should probably know where your family was standing after this procession took place.

You wandered the halls of Dragonstone looking for Jace with Benjicot. Finally after some time you found your brother in the library sulking. You waved to Ben to stay outside the room as you entered. You knew you had to speak to him alone. 

“What was the outcome?” You spoke softly, not wanting to upset him further. 

He turned the page of his book angrily “Both dragons have been claimed. Seasmoke has been claimed. Claimed by some drunk old man they call… Ulf.” He said, in an attempt to make you as angry as he was. 

And it worked, you were mad. You didn’t give him the satisfaction however. “Stop pouting.” 

“I’m not pouting.” He said, flipping another page.

You scoffed, “You are pouting. Pouting as our mother awaits us.” You sat next to him, “You’re angry, I know it.” You said gently. 

“How are you not?” He looked at you with an annoyed demeanor. 

“I am angry. Angry that our family has been torn apart and burnt to ash. I want revenge and I support our mother.” You spoke softly but intently, needing him to understand why such action though unpleasant was critical. 

“They are an insult to us. To what makes us Targaryens. If any common lout can ride a dragon then-”

You interrupted him, “Speak for yourself, I am not common.” You stood and paced the room,

“You know what we are.” Jace said with a dark voice. 

You shrugged, “Everyone does. So why should I care.”

“Does your betrothed know?” He asked almost mockingly.

You stopped your pacing and looked at Jace, “Just as Baela knows.” You stepped closer to Jace, “You act as though we are the first noble bastards. I am the princess and you the crown prince. We are children of the rightful queen. And you sit here sulking over dragons and if not that then something else.” You took hold of Jace’s shoulder, “It is true we’ve must prove ourselves. We’ve to prove to the people we are worthy of the status our mother gave to us. So get up and take your place by our mother’s side.” 

And with that, you left him. You hoped you would see him for supper, but if not the House of the Dragon was going to be safe another day. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ 

As you began to walk down the hall, Ben followed closely. You looked over your shoulder at him and smiled at him. Your smile drove him mad. He playfully began to chase you once again. He was so close though it was hardly a chase. He grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you into him as his arm wrapped around your waist tightly and held you close. You gave in quickly and happily. Your arms wrapping around his neck. His lips met yours passionately as he lifted you with ease and spun you around in the hall. Uncaring of anyone who saw. 

He placed you down gently as his smiling lips continued to meet your own repeatedly as he pushed you against the stone wall. 

As your lips parted, you smiled softly and absent mindedly as you looked at him with loving eyes, “I did not think love would find me in such a sad world.” You said as you ran your thumb across the scar on his lip.

He shook his head as he looked at you with adorning eyes, “I’ll always find you.”

You bit your lip and looked at his, though you had kissed him a thousand times now you still hungered for more. And he shared that same hunger.

His lips and yours collided once more, in a passionate and loving embrace. Though the heaven that your kiss brought would soon be interrupted by the sounds of a man’s crude laughter echoing down the halls. 

Benjicot immediately looked down the hall, looking for anyone who might have disturbed you both. He pushed you behind him slightly, in an attempt to defend whatever threat might have been there.

You however furrowed your brows in annoyance, “What is that?” You asked as you pushed yourself away from Ben’s protection and continued to walk down the hall towards the laughter.

Ben of course followed closely behind. Soon you reached the council room where you heard the same voice speaking, “This is more like it, Hugh, don’t you think?”

You stood outside the room listening in more carefully.

Another voice beckoned out the room, “We’re meant to be at the training yards learnin’ the commands.”

The same voice as before once again called out, “Yeah, and I will go, but surely they’d not deny me my pleasure after so long. I may never eat fish again.” he replied. 

You entered the room angered. You knew these must have been the Targaryen bastards who claimed those sacred beasts. Your anger only grew as you saw them sitting at the council table.

“What are you doing here?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes and storming into the room. You saw the man more clearly now, his feet sitting upon the council table. “Remove your feet from the table.” You spat at him. This man dared place his feet on your mothers table- sitting in your mothers seat. 

“I’d rather not.” The gray haired oafish old man said, refusing your command which only made your anger rise, and Benjicot’s anger rose.

The other man tried to correct his behavior, “Ulf-” 

Though you interrupted him, staring daggers at the man as you approached him, Ulf… The man who claimed Seasmoke, it made you hate it all the more, “It is not a matter of what you want.”

“What is it a matter of then, girl?” Ulf asked unabashedly. 

Benjicot grabbed hold of the hilt of his sword, “You dare speak to her like that?” he hissed at the gray haired bastard. 

Hugh attempted once again to knock sense into Ulf, “She’s the princess, Ulf. Princess (Y/N) Velaryon.” 

Immediately Ulf threw his feet down from the table and stood, “Princess (Y/N) Velaryon! Right here!” He said with great enthusiasm, it reminded you of Willem. “Who’d thought it?”

“You’re in her home.” Ben said with venom in his tone as he stepped closer to the man, “She’ll have an apology from you.” Benjicot sneered at the man.

“Ah! The young princess!” Ulf said with great excitement as he stepped closer to you, making Ben rush to your side as well, “Look at that hair!” Ulf tried to place his hand into your dark hair, though Ben’s hand grabbed Ulfs wrist before he could touch you. “As dark as they say.” He remarked. “Let them tell us we don’t have Targaryen blood, eh?”

Benjicot would not allow a man to question your parentage no matter if it were true or not. No matter if the man was a dragonrider or not. “Her mother is the queen and-”

“My niece. Dragonriders both.” He said as if he were reminiscing on your pasts together. You felt more angered by it, he did not know you and he was certainly not your family. Perhaps blood bound you together but not family. “You and I… cut from the same cloth.” You felt a sting of resentment. This is the man who claimed your fathers dragon dare call himself your uncle?

“You claiming Seasmoke was a sacred inheritance of which you know nothing.” You hissed at him. 

“Forgive him, princess. He is not much used to the manners of court.” Hugh said, attempting to remedy the growing tension in the room. 

“Or any fucking manners at all I’d say.” Benjicot said, still grasping hold of the hilt of his sword.

Ulf’s eyes finally left you, and landed onto Ben. “You must be her lad, eh?” He questioned mockingly with a grin. 

“I’m her husband to be.” Ben said protectively and proudly. 

“To be.” Ulf mocked in jest, though Ben did not find it amusing. 

But rather than allow Ben to spill blood of a man in your mother’s council room, spill the blood of a dragonrider whom you needed. You stepped forward and began to speak, “Do you know what has happened this last hour?” Your eyes bore into Ulf’s soul, and you stepped closer to him. “The so-called Prince regent has burned Sharp Point down to its stones. Thousands of its folk dead or lost. Its harbor has been reduced to ash.” Ulf swallowed hard, now understanding the gravity of his position, “Will you prepare to face such an enemy? Or will you stay here and make yourself easy?” You sneered at him, “If you hinder our efforts through sloth or unreadiness I will allow my husband to do whatever he wishes with you.” You threatened and the room fell silent. 

Ben’s eyes stayed on Ulf, waiting for that apology. 

Ulf stammered before he finally spit out, “I meant no disrespect, my princess.” 

You nodded, “Best be on your way to the training yards then.” You tilted your head to get him moving. 

Ulf and Hugh then scattered and scurried off to the training yards as they were meant to.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

At supper, Ulf did not redeem himself in your favor. 

“More wine here!” He called out as if he were in a tavern at your mothers table. “Taming a dragon is thirsty work.” He said to the servant girl who served him his wine. As if to woo her, it made you roll your eyes in disgust, “Oh, and some more of these little birds.” He called out 

Your mother however wanted to turn the evening's conversation to a more suitable discussion. “A toast to my daughter, and her intended Lord Benjicot Blackwood. Benjicot who shall soon be a Velaryon, and my daughter who shall soon be a bride. You shall be married soon and I know you both will find great happiness and joy.” She said as she stood raising her cup to you and Ben. Ben felt honored, and undeserving of this. He raised his cup to you instead. You smiled and raised your cup. Your cousins and brother did the same, though Jace was still pouting.

“You’re taking ‘er name?” Ulfs voice rang out again. 

Ben turned his head down to the end of the table where Ulf sat. “It is a great honor for my children to inherit the name, Velaryon.” He practically hissed though he tried to maintain his manners at the queen’s table.

Though this tension would be cut as Rhaenrya began again, “A toast. To our new riders. The two of you, are not of noble birth, but you have done a thing never dreamed of before now. I have entrusted you with a power only few have known. And I charge you to take it up with fealty and respect. Serve me well and I will make you knights of the realm.” She said wanting to honor but warn them.

“Huh? What do you think of that? We’ll be knights… just like that.” Ulf said, lacking tact as usual. 

Hugh grimaced at Ulf’s words, then turned to the queen, “We will not fail you, my queen. What will you have us do?” He asked

“We must strike while we have the advantage.” She responded 

“What about Vhagar?” Hugh asked, clearly weary of going against such a large dragon.

Your mother shrugged, “She is fearsome but she is one dragon, and we have seven. She cannot take on us all.”

“I’ll take her by myself. Seasmoke’s a goer he is. We’re afraid of nothing.” Ulf said arrogantly, making you roll your eyes. 

“Ondoso zȳhon nyke emagon zirȳla zūgagon hen nykeēdar.” “By his stench I would have thought him fearful of water.” You said under your breath only for Baela to hear. From the little Velaryon you had taught Ben he picked up enough of what you said to have to hold in a laugh. 

“I said more of these little birds!” Ulf called out loudly commanding the servants again.

“A knight will conduct himself with grace at the Queen’s table.” Your mother attempted to subtly correct his behavior. 

“Best make me a knight then.” Ulf attempted to jest.

“You forget yourself, Ulf.” Jace threatened as he leaned into the table. 

“A sense of humor could do you all good.” Ulf said awkwardly as he drank from his cup.

Ben leaned closer to you, “I think you’re quite funny.” he whispered in your ear. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

After supper you walked with Ben through the halls of Dragonstone.

“That's the man who claimed my dead father’s dragon?” You huffed, “I had hoped for whore or a tavern wench.” You were not jesting, this was certainly the worst case scenario. 

“Do you want me to kill him?” Ben asked, also not jesting. 

You looked at him and smiled, “No.” You shook your head, “I’ll leave that to Vhagar.” 

“Vhagar…” Ben said, thinking of the large beast.

“Silverwing could kill Vhagar.” You said, getting lost again in the fantasy of your revenge.  “And I could kill Ameond.”

Ben took your wrist, making you stop on your tracks. 

He sighed, not wanting to ask what he was about to ask you, “You won’t fly to war will you?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “You don’t believe I could do it?”

“If it were you and Ameond, I know you could. But when your dragons meet, it is not a matter of skill or strength.” He wanted to reason with you 

You shook your head, about to continue walking, “I just have to go for her neck. Like she did Arrax.” 

Ben took you by your arm and forced you to stop, “I’ll go to war. Kill every green I see. I’ll roar and rampage in the name of your revenge.” His eyes were wide, he was desperate, “I’ll bring Kings Landing to your feet.” He vowed it to you, “I’ll never command you to do anything, never forbid you to do anything. I’ll give you my own sword to ride your beast into battle. But, I keep thinking of it. Being in battle and looking up to seeing you overhead on your beast. I am overcome with pride and admiration but should the greens shoot you down, or Vhagar prevails- I have to beg you selfishly. You’re the only woman I want, the only one I’ve ever loved, the only one I’ll ever love. If you are harmed, or worse I will burn all of Westeros to its soil and me with it.” 

You wanted to laugh, not knowing how to respond. You shook your head again, “You’re not my slave-” 

“I am.” He got down on one knee, “Willingly- happily.” He said as he took your hand, “There’s not a single fucking thing I wouldn’t do at your command. Not a thing I wouldn’t give you.” His eyes were filled with emotion, “Not a thing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe, happy. If that means massacring Cristan Cole and his armies I will do it. If it means shooting down Vhagar I’ll do it. If it means watching you in battle, so be it. But I beg you- stay.”   

You looked down at him, “Ben.” you were at a loss for words.

“Tell me what you wish and I’ll not stop you. I’ll not speak another word of it.” He said assertively. 

“I can lean on you?” You asked gently and softly. 

“Completely.” He said without hesitation, assertively and without doubt.

You hesitated, but then nodded, “Alright.” You sniffed, holding in tears, “Alright.” You nodded, not wanting to 

“Av-ey jorraela.” He attempted to pronounce it though it was not perfect. 

You exhaled a sharp laugh, holding in your tears. You held his face in your hands, “Avy jorrāela.”

Note:

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[thesongoficeandfir3]

The burning mill, the family affair, and the forbidden love

Benjicot ‘Davos’ Blackwood x Fem!Bracken!reader

A/n: Based on the show version of the battle of the burning mill p.s currently working on part 2 of my first story 😋

Warnings: heavy angst, gore, descriptions of wounds, blood, smut is alluded but not described. Lmk if I missed anything

The sound of swords being clashed and men crying out in pain filled the air of the area that joint Bracken and Blackwood’s land. Blood dripped down from the tip of Benjicot's long sword as he looked at the carnage around him, his breathing rapid and ragged. What had started as a small dispute between the Brackens and Blackwoods turned into a full out bloodbath.

He had lost count of the number of Bracken men he had killed. His sword arm ached and trembled while his entire body felt like it was on fire. His body was begging for a moments rest, but Benjicot refused to give into his bodies wishes. He only had one thing and one thing alone on his mind and that was to find you.

As Benjicot struggled and pushed his way across the field he passed many dead or dying men, many of them being his own. They were the same men he knew since he was a boy. He grew up with them, drank with them , laughed with them… his heart ached at the sight, but still he wouldn’t stop moving. He couldn’t stop because not being able to get to you first ached his heart even more.

Benjicot grunted as a sharp, excruciating pain shot through his leg, taking him down. He looked down and saw the leg wound he had sustained earlier had gotten severely worse. The first few moments he got it, Benjicot believed it to be nothing more than a small cut, but now it was bleeding profusely from a deep gash. This along with many other fatal injuries Benjicot could already label himself a deadman. Despite that however….despite the pain he still pushed himself up, stabbing his sword into the wet soil for support and kept going forward. No matter what he was going to get to you even if it killed him.

He knew you were here and fighting. Being the only daughter in your family and growing up with five older brothers you had learned to use a sword and fight.

Benjicot never liked it, not because he didn’t believe a woman should hold a sword but because he was terrified of a day like this one.

He still remembers that night as if it was yesterday. It had been a week since you two finally confessed your feelings for one another despite being from rival houses. It was late at night and you two were deep in the forest far away from both of your families lands. Your naked bodies intertwined laying on a blanket on the forest floor, coming down from your high.

You broke the comfortable silence by saying whenever the day came you’d be fighting with your family, you’d be fighting as a Bracken. Though you loved Benjicot you couldn’t come to terms with the thought of slaying your own family. You knew the moment was not the best time to say something like that, but you had been wanting to say that the moment you realized you loved Benjicot. You wanted to tell him sooner rather than later so it wouldn’t feel like a betrayal. Benjicot didn’t get upset when you said it, for he felt the same he couldn’t fathom slaying his own blood.

You both knew deep down a war between your houses was inevitable. It was not a matter of if, but when.

Despite knowing that however, ever since that day you two never spoke about your family feud when together, as if not speaking on the matter would have prevented the inevitable.

When he finally spots you in the distance, he sees you fighting off a Blackwood man. You would’ve been dead a long time ago since the man was a bull compared to you, but his injuries were far worse than yours. This caused some of his movements to be sloppy and predictable. At this point the Blackwood man had looked like a walking corpse, but he was content on taking you down. It seems he wished for the satisfaction for taking down one more Bracken before the Stranger came for him.

Though he was in worse shape than you, he still managed to stab you in your stomach twice, missing your vital organs by a hair, but still driving the sword deep enough. He raised his sword again ready to go for the final blow. In the moment It seemed like he would have gotten his death wish when suddenly a Bracken man charged towards the Blackwood man, tackling him and causing them both to fall into the river with a large and loud splash. The murky river water slowly turned into a deep shade of crimson as the two men sank to the bottom from their heavy armor.

Once your attacker was gone, your knees buckled and you fell to the ground clutching your wounded stomach. The feeling was warm and sticky and the strong scent of iron filled your nose. Your body trembled and your breathing became heavy. You can feel your heart race quickens as your body desperately attempts to produce more blood than what was being lost rapidly.

You looked down to see how bad your wounds were and was met with the blood staining the gold color of your clothes a darker hue. Your house sigil, the horse, unrecognizable as the blood quickly continues to spread. Knowing there was no hope for you, you allow yourself to lay flat on the ground, staring up at the sky as you wait for death to overcome you.

Benjicot watched as your opponent was struck down before you slumped to the ground. His body had by far reached its limits, but seeing you in that state gave him a wave of adrenaline. He quickly limped as best he could towards you, pushing through the pain of his injury, desperate to reach you.

When he finally reached you, he could see like him you had sustained some injuries all over your body, but it was nothing compared to your stomach wounds. He dropped down to his knees, gently putting his trembling hand on your stomach wound. He presses down on the wound to slow the bleeding, but it attempts were futile as it seemed the blood was coming out even faster.

Benjicot was slowly starting to weaken, all the adrenaline starting to wear off. His wounds were bleeding heavily as well, the blood from it mixing with yours. Still he refused to take his hand off your wound despite his weakening state.

“Ben.” you choked out, your eyelids becoming heavy as you looked up at him, trying to get his attention.

He didn’t look at you, too focused on your wound. It was obvious that neither of you were going to survive, but he still stubbornly tried to stop the bleeding. He desperately wanted if any of you, it be you who lived to see another day.

“Please Ben,” your hand reached his on your stomach weakly trying to pry them off. “I’m so cold,” you say looking up at him through teary eyes, your once beautiful s/c slowly turning pale. “Please just hold me I’m so cold you.” You whimpered out trying your best convince him to stop saving you. You didn’t want either of your final moments wasting time on a lost cause. He finally looked at you, his green eyes filled with sadness as he slowly removed his hand from your wound.

He pulled his cloak off his shoulders and wrapped it around you tightly, trying to give you the warmth your body was no longer able to provide for you. Despite his own pain, he carefully lifted you into his lap and cradled you against his chest, holding you as tightly as he could, his arms wrapping around you as though he could protect you from death itself.

He held you closely, doing his best to transfer his body heat to you to keep you warm. He buried his face in your hair, his breathing ragged and labored. He could feel his strength slowly slipping away, but he didn’t let go of you. Using what little strength he had left, he used it to hold you in a tight warm embrace to ensure you he was there.

As Benjicot holds you familiarity surges through you. You suddenly remember all those cold nights where you found comfort, warmth and safety in his arms and now you realize you’ll never experience that again.

“Ben…..I don’t want to leave you- please I don’t want to go.” Tears streamed down your face, your body so weak you couldn’t even lift your head to look at him as you spoke.

He could hear the fear and despair in your voice, mirroring the same feelings within himself. He wanted to comfort you, to tell you everything would be okay, but he knew it would be a lie. Instead, he just tightened his grip on you, pressing you closer against his chest.

"I’m here," he managed to gasp out, his voice strained. "I’m not leaving you, I promise. He says gently trying to calm you. He could not save you from death, but he could at least promise you won’t be going into it alone.

“I love you Ben… I love you so much.”

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice filled with love and pain. "More than anything."

There were still a few standing survivors from both sides of your family struggling against one another, despite more than half of the field being filled with Blackwood and Bracken corpse. The sound was muffled but you still heard it and you remember why you’re in this situation in the first place.

“I wish our families-”

"I don’t care about our families,” he cut you off. “All that matters is that we’re together. You’re the only thing that matters."

As Benjicot says that you allow yourself to completely relax. He was right, being with him in this moment was the only thing that mattered. The generational feud in your families did not.

He then felt your body grow limp in his arms, your final breath leaving your lips. He pressed a long and gentle kiss on your forehead as tears began streaming down his cheeks. He felt himself grow weaker, his own strength slowly slipping away. With one final, laboured breath, he whispered your name, his voice hoarse and trembling, before his grip on you loosened and he too was gone. The last thing he saw was your beautiful face, peaceful in death.

The two of you remained in each others arms, your bodies lifeless in the aftermath of the battle. Despite the chaos and carnage around you, there was a sense of peace in your final moments together.

It was an odd sight the lord and lady of the rivaling houses, the houses that used the Targaryen conflict just to slay one another, finding peace in each other’s arms. Your deaths, although tragic, would be a testament to the indomitable power of love that can transcend even from the most deep seated of hatred.

[witchthewriter]

@dream-bee-baby.

[stormmyk]

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