#c: ben

[princeaidantully]

who: @benblvckwood what: aidan is hosting a party in his apartments at riverrun, an invitation sent his cousin, the young lord ben blackwood.

"In the east they call them dancing girls. I would have brought over Lysene girls but we have an issue with the Lysene." Aidan spoke loudly as he watched the makeshift stage of women dancing, pulling off their clothes to the sound of the music. Upon his return home, the Prince of loaves and fishes wanted to make sure his men enjoyed their time and what better way to enjoy oneself than with the company of many, many women. "It's fine, of course, these girls come from Pentos. We've no issue with them that a cock cannot solve." Laughter rolled through the hall as the Prince smiled.

In the apartments of the Prince his grand hall in Riverrun, filled with the flickering light of torches and lanterns casting dancing shadows on the red sandstone walls. The hall was alive with energy and noise, filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and the clinking of goblets. The air is thick with the fragrant smoke of burning herbs and the rich aroma of roasting meats. It was the sounds and smells of being home.

In the center of the room, another group of dancing girls twirl and sway to the rhythm of lively music played by a band of minstrels. Their colorful skirts and shimmering jewelry catch the light, creating a mesmerizing display. Around them, men in various states of revelry cheer and clap, some joining in the dance while others watch with appreciative grins.

Prince Aidan Tully, dressed in fine silks and adorned with the sigil of House Tully, sat at the head of a long wooden table. His presence commanding respect and admiration from his guests. He raised his goblet in a toast. The prince's guests are a motley crew of sellswords and freed slaves from the Lysene magister who dared to hold a Tully hostage. Some share stories of their travels and adventures, while others simply enjoy the food, drink, and women.

Aidan smiled as he walked away from the group and made his way through the crowd, speaking to different men. His sellswords would get their payments and perhaps they would leave, but he would be able to keep many of them. They would need them. Aidan didn't know what would happen with his sister's reign, but having sellswords protected anyone.

In one corner of the room, a group of men sits around a low table, engaged in a heated game of dice. Their shouts of victory and groans of defeat add to the cacophony. Elsewhere, a bard recites tales of heroic deeds and legendary battles, his voice rising above the din to captivate those nearby.

"Little Ben Blackwood!"

Aidan smiled through his drink, setting the cup down as he walked over and hugged the other man. A cousin he last saw in the middle of a war where the dragons danced and changed the way war was forever.

"Well, you're not so little anymore, aye? A man." He clapped him on the shoulder, turning his head he shouted for more ale and then glanced back at the man before him. "I will hear tale of all your adventures of course I shall bore you with mine. Come sit at the high table with me."

[ronanbrackens]

who: @benblvckwood where: riverrun, following the return of the riverlands court from kings landing and jaehaerys targaryen's coronation, the riverlands court find themselves in close proximity once again. there comes news for both the ruling lords of stone hedge and raventree hall, which results in them crossing paths in the urgency in the the hallways outside of the great hall of riverrun

the thundering of soles and the sudden rush of cloaked figures within the hallways of riverrun was an increasing common sight to see: and so, the group of men adorning cloaks and shields emblazoned the bracken stallion swarmed through the hallway, parting through the courtiers with the sole intent of finding their ruling lord.

the men of the riverlands were as reckless and wild as the rushing trident of the river, and it was not uncommon to see of roaming parties finding themselves engaged in some form of sparring; but this was different. "tell the fool to collect his pups."

some leagues away from riverrun, a group of mix young men, borderline boys, had found themselves face to face: adorned in colours of bracken, and colours of blackwood. a feud that was bound and promised in blood did not end with the shedding of young blood, if anything, it only fed it. there was no backing down from demands of a dual, and this was only another event in the constant turmoil that was the ancient rivalry between two houses, alike in nobility...but not dignity.

his page had informed him of the lethal duals that had taken place, uprooting a settlements tavern, the marketplace, all the riverland smallfolk seeing a chapter in their history that would not come to an end; whatever happened, in the end, there was none left living to tell the story. young boys had stripped life of the others, all for the sake of the colours they wore and their allegiance. those who came after had only wounded one another, another round of young boys who only tried to get ahold of their brothers stiffening corpses.

it was expected the men would die for such a cause; their men were representations of their own. ronan's hand itched as he walked to the main courtyard before riverrun, where the bodies were transported in; there came the beginnings of a crowd, crowds that ronan ordered to be cleared with a sense of aggression. he knew not from his household who had been slain, but he crossed forward to the wagon and lifted the sheet.

what he saw, were three faces he recognised: not faces he knew entirely well, but loyal men nonetheless. he kept a grip upon the sheet, his dark gaze moving over to the sight of the blackwood dead on the opposite end of the wagon, and he stepped forward to see them too, incase there was any he would recognise. none. younger than them nonetheless, born into the hate just as they had been. he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, only to look in the face of bloody ben himself.

ronan's hand rested upon the hilt of his own heavy blade, ready to withdraw it if needed - gods knew a dual between them could bring the end of their houses. "here." ronan uttered, pulling away the sheet from the bodies of the blackwood men, his movement inherently rough, lacking care or respect. "yer bastards won't be restin' in this wagon beside me boys." ronan would throw one to the floor if he were angrier.

[citylighten]

BEGINNING // PREVIOUS // NEXT

[ofescapisms]

@thirtecnth

Ainsley loved stopping by her friends’ homes when she could, and after delivering new produce she always wanted to since she was already in town. She stopped by Ben’s and knocked at the door. “Hey! Up for some company? I want to hear what’s been going on.”

[jessicagailwrites]

artist: @monoidea

I'm sorry, but this is the prettiest thing I've ever seen. OMG. I mentioned in a reblog the other day that I had commissioned someone to do the cover for my story and ever since then, I've had the hardest time keeping it to myself.

I'm so incredibly happy with how this turned out. It's like the characters were plucked right out of my head. I feel so much more confident about the first impression my story is going to make now.

The whole experience working with the artist was such a treat. I cannot believe people trade that for keystrokes in an AI design engine.

[roxdelrosario]

closed starter: @benj-hyun

where: four leaf pub

Roxy knew it was only October first but she'd begged Santi to let her put pumpkins out front of the pub as well as hang up some decorations inside. She had set out a few pumpkins and was trying to decide if she liked how they looked by the door, staring at them so intently that she almost didn't notice when Ben walked up.

"Hey, welcome to the-- Ben! Hi! I'm so glad you're here." Roxy rushed over and grabbed him by the arm to pull him where she once stood and pointed at the pumpkins. "Do those look good there?"

[wintervsuns]

who: @benblvckwood when and where: lann's day

he was not intending on finding something to laugh about what it came to the matter of benjicot blackwood, or benny as he was more commonly called amongst those who loved and knew him the most: and yet, the sight of him somehow ending up paired with a golden-haired princess of the west who appeared taller than him in some lights was enough to cause a slight bark of laughter to be engulfed by the countless amounts of ale that seemed to fill his goblet.

“fuckin’ hell man, next time you choose to dance ‘least give me  a warnin’ to look away.” 

what a sight of sore eyes indeed, considering the ruling lord of raventree hall appeared displeased with the match: gods knew why, it were hardly like the lannister princess was an ugly woman. brandon karstark’s arms remained rested across his torso, borderline lazily, as though he tried to focus on avoiding the seemingly growing amount of tensions within the northern court. the true north, they whispered of it; and as much as he detested the catalyst being his detangling with his closest friend, a part of him knew it would be a long time coming. “come ‘ere, it’s about time i caught up the benny blackwood himself.”

a part of him knew of the reasoning, and would it resulted in. still, he had little idea of how to process all the thoughts that seemed to weigh upon him: how does a man deal with the ending of a life-long friendship he never thought he would be without? It were foolish, and something he would never voice into the open – there were other matters he could do to keep himself busy, to work toward rerouting himself to the north values of the north. “i’d say we’re neighbours now, but considering the situation….aleks ain’t too keen on those penny pinchin’ freys you call your peers.” he snorted slightly, leaning forward.

[hugovance]

who: @benblackwood summary: Shared Memories: Hugo and Ben recall their shared history and adventures, from their youth to the events of the Dance of the Dragons. They discuss how those experiences shaped them into the men they are today, bonding over their love of knowledge and history. context: set after ben is made master of war.

"And then, it was perhaps before the dance, when we were in the junior list and my father insisted I take part." Hugo could barely get the words out as he found a lightness and joy in the memories. The times before the dance made them the men of their great houses. "And when the lance landed on the others shoulders, I stabbed with such force I flew off my horse and landed flat on my back."

They were sat in the quarters of Hugo Vance on the balcony looking over the stretch of rolling green hills and flowing rivers. It was something of a tradition. Meeting with the other lord and sitting down away from the courts of games and politics. A hand ran over his hair, the other hand reaching out to take the cup and take a long drink. In the aftermath of changes at court he thought it wise for close friends to meet.

"The region can expect to be much safe with you as our Master of War. Perhaps you will even be High Commander one day." He raised the goblet to the other. Some would whisper it was a demotion for his failings but it was a correction in the eyes of Hugo Vance. Ben Blackwood cut his teeth in the Dance of Dragons and it was wise to have him in a place where the Gods thought him most belonging."

[jalabharmooton]

| @benblackwood | | setting :: carriage to dorne | | summary :: on the journey to dorne qorban and ben travel to sunspear |

The lord of Maidenpool didn't speak for this journey. He didn't speak on their stops along the way, he rarely spoke when camps were set up and he spoke even less when it was time to travel once more. His father used to tell him that a man's voice was something one earned the right to hear, that conversation with a Mooton was a courtesy and not an expectation. He had no courtesy for the boy in front of him. Someone he once thought of as a man, someone he once thought of as worthy of respect and grace. Someone who deserved a chance. But he didn't.

What made him special was being young once upon a time. Nothing special. One of many boys to fight and survive the dance, a green boy becoming a man of crimson. The difference? This one was a lord. Was he the only to walk into battle with the death of his father and family on his shoulders? No. Death followed them. The stranger sat at their tables, sat at every table. Qorban went into his feast hall surrounded by empty chairs and servants. Empty plates and too much food for one man. HIs sisters were not going to walk through his door and sit down. His daughters no longer laughed.

And the man before him, he found humor in his fuckery. Bloody Ben Blackwood, the boy knight who survived the dance only to let fire rain down on them once more. Flame, decay, destruction, and death all punctuated by his stupid smile. His stupid laughter. And now, now the King sent him with an offer of nothing for the Princess of Dorne with this fool.

His King was a fool as well. Qorban never wanted to admit it. Qorban never wanted to listen to those who doubted the man he supported over CIan Tully and now he wondered if he made the right choice. Would the bastard Tully have made a child his hand? Would he have kept him as hand after his actions resulted in the deaths of his spy masters family? Casimir Tully who sent him with the man who is the reason his children were dead. They didn't respect him. They respected no one.

"When we arrive," the lord of house Mooton finally spoke, staring through the man sat across from him, "don't make a fool of yourself. Do not try to charm the Princess or any woman of her court especially if you are having a meeting. If someone wants to fuck you they will make it clear without lifting up the corner of your mouth in some futile attempt at wit. Are we clear? You have blood of Lys use it to your advantage. They do not care about the dance nor do they care of your moniker. We betrayed these people for nothing. And the King offers them nothing. Let us leave with something more than humiliation, can you do that Lord Blackwood? Can you carry yourself like Hand of the King or shall I conduct meetings while you giggle in the gardens?"

[omerflorent]

| a banter length starter for ben blackwood @ephemerallightx​ |

Omer trusted no one more than he trusted his wife. Through the many things they went through and survived there was a level of trust there no one could breakdown. Even in moments of insecurity from both of them they found themselves in a place where at the end of the day they laid their heads on the same pillow and told each other everything. And in their laughing, she told him about the little lordling with a voice of confusion and words strung together through soft giggles before she finished her sentence. While Omer laughed that night, the next morning he woke and informed her he would continue this ship business with the lord. The lord from a house his Bracken cousin called an enemy. 

He waited until Ben arrived, he wanted to get the measure of the boy who wept over his dead. The bloody lad who earned the respect of so many somehow didn’t see it fit to learn proper behaviors. Omer decided he agreed with his Bracken cousin and thought this man worth little. Perhaps Omer’s reputation didn’t reach the ears of children. It surely would today.

“My lord.” Omer entered the solar, greeting the boy with some akin to amusement though he felt known. Omer Florent was not easily amused. He was, however, easily angered. “I hope you weren’t expecting anyone else.”

“I hear you want to purchase ships, savage.” Omer tucked his hands in his pocket. “Why should I sell you ships?” 

[silvcrignis]

Discussions That Have Definitely Happened

Carlos: The W in Isle of The Lost stands for clean water.

Ben: … There… There’s no “W” in Isle of The Lost….

Carlos: *deadpan* Exactly.

Ben: 👁️_👁️

[apollo-finch]

“I’ve come to rescue you from the monotony of other people’s feelings.” Apollo was obviously joking but he got a kick out of Ben’s reaction when he saw him standing in the pharmacy. “If I remember correctly you’re supposed to be done with work already and yet your brows are still creased like you’re either having a really important thought or you’re constipated. My money is on the latter.” He greeted the rest of the staff who he had known for quite some time, especially in the years when Eilonwy was younger and he was always making sure she made her physical appointments and got her new glasses. Apollo was not a shy guy despite how much he kept close to his chest and he prided himself on being a man of the community. It was how he had kept the diner open for as long as he did before the mall came. “I know y’all agree with me. The man works too much and that’s coming from me.” He waited until Ben had his things together before making way for them to both leave. “You know, with my dramatics, I should have majored in acting,” he teased until they were out the door. “You smell that? It’s called fresh air. You remember to eat today?” @bennypark​

[tiriusrowan]

| @benblackwood​ | | setting: tirius’ office in the in the hand’s apartments |

Tirius ran a tight ship for all though who called themselves working in the Hand’s house and operations. The stream of pages was constant as was the maester who came and went along with the Septons. There was rarely a moment the Hand let slip by in the day when someone wasn’t doing as they were told. From the moment he sat at his desk to the instant he left it, there would be papers piled on the desk securely sealed with wax. 

This day he waited for his cousin through marriage, Ben Blackwood, it wouldn’t be a dinner with Layla and the children. The only of his children there was Tahir and he stood outside the door on guard just waiting for the moment until he could Tirius gave him leave to join the men in Alayim. Everyday there was something else. And this day was akin to a family matter. Bloody Ben overstepped with perhaps one of the more unforgiving lords in the Reach. And it would take effort to get him to come around, but Tirius would make the effort.

Ben’s misstep wasn’t what concerned him. At least not in the way it angered others. As a man of the Old Way he was a protector of their maidens, ladies, and children. A guardian of the weak of will and mind. It wasn’t what crossed his mind as he sent a page to ask the other Hand to meet with him. It was another concern. He was young and as such, Tirius wondered what the boy knew of politics and court life. It couldn’t be much. A boy at war is impressive, a boy in court is a nuisance leaving messes for all to clean up. And while he was certain Zakariya would take give him a proper dressing down, that would be a Riverlands issue. This, on the other hand, was once again a family concern. Men who didn’t learn to become men in a world well rounded became men at a time when men lack sense and humanity. Lack of sense seemed to be the greater issue in this case.

“Sit down, Ben.” Tirius greeted the other with the gesture of his hand as he stood briefly and bowed his head then sat back down and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you since your name came up in a rather aggressive conversation with our High Commander Omer Florent. That’s not why I wish to speak to you. Answer me this, as hand of the King did you take the time to learn the matters of state and court before arriving here? For example, I would never send whores to Lord Mallister. I would never approach the Lannister Princess and ask if she finds me comely.”

”If a man wants his cock touched he goes somewhere appropriate such as diseased riddled dens of iniquity and not for ladies of old way or ladies who sit upon councils with husbands who will fuck your eye socket.”

“Where did you learn this method of … negotiation and when has it worked?” Tirius didn’t smile though his voice was lighter than it would be if he was speaking to someone not related to his wife.

[genericmuses]

☕ [ SAWYER ] liked for a starter

"Please tell me you brought coffee?" Ben asked, his eyes pleading, "I'm dead on my feet."

@spitfcre

[ofescapisms]

@thirtecnth

Vic wasn’t exactly using sound judgement lately, but as she tapped her foot on the bar stool while finishing her drink, she noticed a familiar face she’d seen in passing. Only because doctors and firefighters just tended to work together sometimes, depending on the situation. A little braver than usual considering the drink she’d just had, she walked over to him as an upbeat song started to play in the bar. “So how much convincing will it take for you to dance with me?” she said in her most flirtatious tone, a smirk on her face.

[jessicagailwrites]

Spent some time doodling the guys today ☘️👾🧵