#benjicot x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 4 months ago

Note

Mulled wine for Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken reader. And arranged marriage after the war where she was afraid of him and his house because of her upbringing and the rumors about the Blackwoods magic and Ben's bloody attitude in battles and how some claim it's because of magical power he has that the young boy was so capable and she thought him scary and demanding but she ends up smitten with the shy and sensitive gentleman warrior. Fluffy but ends up smutty, please!

Sorry for the rant.

I hope you like this, anon!

“Mulled Wine”

Pairing: Benjicot Blackwood/AFAB Bracken reader (Second Person POV/both parties 18+)

Themes: Smut | Fluff

Warnings: First time | Kissing | Foreplay | PIV sex

Wordcount: 2K words

Summary: After worrying over how you would be treated on your wedding, Lord Benjicot Blackwood surprises you with his conduct.

Minors DNI | 18 + | This story can be found on AO3

Moonlight shone down on the Godswood of Raventree Hall, and the Weirwood tree that loomed over all else gleamed a pale silver. The tree was a dead and leafless thing. Its bark was as white as new snow, and its many twisting branches were home to a hundred ravens, if not more. You watched them from the window of your new bedchamber and shivered. Raventree Hall was as old as Stone Hedge, yet its lords devoted themselves to the Old Gods. Theirs were the ways of blood magic and sacrifice, the others had said, not songs and incense and prayers to the Seven Who are One. And you were now a part of it all, thanks to the marriage your mother and father brokered on your behalf after the war ended.

“Is everything to your liking, m’lady?” Wyla, your new handmaiden, asked. She finished arranging your bed for sleeping and awaited your next command. “Should I fetch anything for you?”

“No, Wyla,” you said, looking at her, “I have everything I could need, thank you.”

Wyla dipped to her knees in a curtsy. “A peaceful night to you then, m’lady.”

“A peaceful night to you also, Wyla,” you said, returning your attention to the window, and the Godswood beyond it.

You thought of the Lord that you were commanded to wed. Lord Benjicot Blackwood, or Bloody Ben, as all those who witnessed him in battle called him, was a warrior who fought with much violence and without fear. Throughout the wedding ceremony and the feast that followed, the Lord of Raventree Hall spoke little, save to say yes during the pledging of vows, throw a jest or two at Oscar and Kermit as the Tully brothers spent hour after hour eating and drinking their fill, and to gently dispense with the bedding ceremony when calls rang out for it. He glanced at you only on occasion, and when he touched you, it was to press a chaste kiss to your lips and lead you to both the feasting hall and then the Lord’s tower afterward, where he disappeared into another chamber after seeing you to your own.

His absence after this unnerved you. Was he performing some strange and bloody rite in this other chamber? Was he drinking himself into a stupor? Or was he preparing himself before he came to claim his rights as a husband?

The last notion proved to be a frightening one. There were some men, not many, but some, who were as harsh and unforgiving in the bedchamber as they would be on a battlefield. And Benjicot were both when armored for battle. You took a deep, steadying breath and girded yourself for what was about to take place. This night was not going to be a peaceful one. Not for you, at least.

Someone coughing behind you disturbed your thoughts. “My lady,” Benjicot called softly. “May I enter?”

You turned once again and found yourself surprised by what you saw. Benjicot stood on the other side of the entry, cups of wine in hand. He was tall and lean and dark of hair, as were many of those of his House. He was also barefoot, and garbed in nothing more than soft woolen breeches. He flushed from cheek to chest when you looked at him and lowered his gaze.

“You may enter, my lord,” you replied, uncertain what to make of his bashfulness. “After all, you are the master of these halls.”

“Raventree Hall is yours also, my lady,” Benjicot answered. He stepped inside. “As of this duskfall, you and I are husband and wife.”

“Of course, my lord,” you said. “Is there anything I ought to do?”

Benjicot turned toward the door, then peered at the cups in his hands. “If you could shut the door, my lady. I… I find that my hands are already full.”

“Of course.” You crossed to the door. It closed with a soft thump. “What have you there, my lord?”

“Mulled wine, my lady,” Benjicot said, his skin still tinged with a pale flush of pink. He held out a cup for you to take. “It is a splendid drink when the night is chill, and I thought… I thought we could have it to celebrate our union.”

You came to him, accepted the cup, and took a sip of the wine. It tasted of ground nutmeg and cloves. It was also sweetened with honey, though it was not oversweet. “It is very good, my lord,” you remarked, taking a second welcomed sip. The night was indeed chill, and the wine provided much-needed heat. Even with a fire roaring in the hearth, the room was still cold.

Benjicot looked pleased. His lips even curled up at the corners. It was the first time he had done so since the ceremony. “My thanks,” he began haltingly, “my lady. I… I prepared it myself. And please… call me Ben.”

Here was a man who was nothing like the fierce warrior who rode to war. The knowledge of it was startling, but in a pleasant degree. “Thank you, Ben,” you said, and smiled back at him.

Benjicot, utterly red in the face, reached for your cup and took it off your hand. He took a swallow from his own, and walked over to a little table to set them down. At length, he gestured at the bed, and said, “Would you care to join me in bed, my lady? We… we could keep each other warm if nothing else.”

It became plain that Benjicot was as anxious about this night as you were. “Of course,” you said, feeling more at ease. “I will join you in bed.”

The pillows and the featherbed were soft, and the furs were even softer. The relief you felt when you slipped beneath the covers rose from the tips of your toes. Benjicot walked around the chamber, blowing out the beeswax candles as he passed them. By the time he returned, only one remained by the side of the bed. He left it alight.

“It must seem strange,” he said, joining you, “a Blackwood taking a Bracken for a wife. Our Houses have been feuding with each other for centuries.”

“It is strange,” you said. Gooseflesh spread all over your limbs when Benjicot settled beside you, and his arm brushed against yours. “But my mother said times are changing. Perhaps the time has come to put an end to the feud also.”

“Perhaps,” your husband murmured. He turned onto his side and propped himself on his elbow to better look at you. “You looked glorious today, my lady. And I… I must beg pardon for not speaking to you after the ceremony, or during the feast. I… I find words a trial when I am surrounded by others.”

“There is no need to beg pardon for, Ben,” you said, blushing from his tender words. You turned onto your side and found Benjicot gazing at you intently. There was hunger in his eyes, and warmth. Neither aspect frightened you. “I now understand why you did not speak, and I am not angry.”

The Lord of Raventree Hall truly smiled then, and his eyes communicated the joy he felt. You found yourself captivated by the sight of it. After a moment, Benjicot took your hand into his, and said, “That is good to hear, my lady. May I ask you something?”

“You may.”

“I… that is… May I kiss you?”

Never did you expect a lord to ask his bride permission for such a thing. Still, you found it rather endearing that he would think of your sentiments on such a matter. Letting go of any fear you had over this night, you looked up at him and said, “Yes. You may kiss me.”

Benjicot leaned in. His kiss was sweet, hesitant, and perhaps, a little clumsy. And yet he kissed, he kissed. When he heard you sigh, he grew bolder, and pushed you onto your back before moving over you.

The warrior many spoke of with fear proved uncommonly gentle with his touch. His lips sought yours, over and over and over again, all while he brushed a shaking hand over your cheek, your throat, and your hair. Then that same hand wandered, gliding over and caressing the soft swell of your breasts, your waist, and your sides, before it moved back up again to unfasten the little buttons on your robe. So lost were you in your husband’s embrace that you did not even perceive your raiment coming undone until it fell away, and cool air washed over your exposed body.

“It is most unfair, husband,” you teased when you could finally speak, “me being unclad while you still have some form of attire upon your person. Such an imbalance cannot linger overlong between us.”

Benjicot chuckled. “I meant no such thing, wife.” He rose to his knees and tugged down on his breeches. When he slid out of them and threw them to the floor, you looked away, your cheeks aflame. Benjicot was already erect, and when he returned to you and gathered you into his arms, you could not help but tremble.

“Do not fear me,” he whispered into your ear. “I will not hurt you.”

“You have not until now,” you admitted, shrugging out of your robe and relishing the welcomed quiver that followed when Benjicot kissed your brow. “I will put my trust in you.”

Benjicot grinned and renewed his kisses. And he kissed with more fire and desire, as if he had been freed by the timidness that held him back at the start. He grazed your lips with the tip of his tongue. He growled softly when yours dipped into his mouth, and your hands circled his waist. Overwhelmed by passion, he braced his hands by your shoulders and groaned when you parted your legs and rested them over his. He shuddered when you took his cock to hand, and guided him inside of you.

The pain that followed his intrusion was still hot and sharp despite the arousal between your thighs. Regardless of this, you encouraged him to go further, and go further he did, not stopping until he sank deep. Benjicot then went still, cooing half-whispered words of praise while you grew accustomed to him, and you became comfortable beneath him. He shifted ever so slightly, to make himself comfortable also. The movement was enough to make the pain ebb away and let pleasure take its place, the likes of which you had not felt before.

“I am ready,” you told him.

Benjicot moved, pulling his hips back and pushing in, again and again. With each thrust, the pleasure you felt at first yielded little by little to something else, something that could not be described with any known word. It was potent all the same, like a wave that kept on rising and rising as you both lost yourselves in each other’s flesh. Soon, the sound of grunts spilled free, as did needy moans and desperate pleas. Perhaps they carried all the way down to the feasting hall, or perhaps, they did not. Neither of you thought to consider such a thing. All that mattered was the joining of your bodies, and the seeking of mutual gratification. Suddenly, Benjicot struck a place he had not done so before. Stars burst to life behind your eyes when he did, and you orgasmed first, your toes curling from the all-consuming sensations that followed the violent trembling of your limbs. The sounds of your release rippled through the room before it was followed by another sound, the one your husband made as he reached his own climax and emptied himself of his spend.

A moment or two of silence followed as Benjicot went still. “Are you well, wife?” he asked, and pulled away. “Did I hurt you?”

“You did not,” you said, and smiled when his eyes lit up with relief. “This night went better than I could have dreamed.”

“That is good, then,” Benjicot said. He rolled off you and settled on his side. When he reached out, you moved closer and nestled within his arms. “Let us rest a while, then, and talk. We have much to learn about each other.”

#whimsy's seven days of ficsmas #benjicot blackwood #benjicot x reader #benjicot smut #x reader #x reader insert #reader insert request

73 notes · View notes

aemondapologistfrfr · 5 months ago

Text

A Way Out

benji x targtower!fem!reader

Summary: You’ve only wanted to be free with the wind for as long as you can remember. You know war is coming and you make an attempt to flee and seek the future you want. When it all comes crumbling down madness is the only thing left to comfort you.

Warnings: 18+ vulgar language, wine, depression, panic and anxiety attacks, thoughts of wanting to die, mention of sex, pregnancy, birth, kidnapping, poison, mention of death, death/suicide(reader), alicent not being a mother, other targtower children appearances, slight timeline au but the dance is still there, mention of war

Authors Note: a request from @chainsawsangel - the most angsty thing i’ve ever written! literally the main song in my head and that i played while writing this was Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths so idk !

Word Count: 8.7k

ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

A Year Before

Over the years your mother and grandfather have slowly taken hold of the Iron Throne. You’ve watched the rapid decline of your fathers health and he’s been nothing more than a corpse these past couple of moons. Your eldest brother drowns himself in his cups day in and day out while the younger of your two brothers hones himself into a deadly weapon. Your only sister is so closed in on herself that you can barely hold a conversation with her. The only person you can turn to is your mother who should be offering you warm embraces but can seem to only muster a cold shoulder.

You try not to blame her for your poor upbringing and push it onto an unlucky draw from the Gods before entering this world. Many aren’t as lucky as you and your siblings and you try to remind yourself of this. You have never wanted for anything besides maybe love and a true family. The only living thing you feel a genuine connection with is your dragon. He is your only solace in times of distress and the feeling of the wind blowing through your hair causes you to dream of flying off, never to return. There is nothing for you in King's Landing, you’re only a daughter and not even the first. Some days you don’t even feel like a daughter but a painting to be stared at until they tire and walk away.

You weren’t a painting but a song on the wind. Something never to be grasped or locked away. You were made to free and soar on the breeze. The wind would sing back to you in its high pitched tone and promise you the escape you desired. You and your dragon fly higher into the clouds chasing the sound of freedom away from the city below. One day you promise to yourself and your dragon. One day we’ll leave this place for good. For now you settle for disappearing for a day or two in the depths of the Kingswood.

ᓚᘏᗢ

After drinking the last of your water you decide to relent and make your way back to the dragon pits. You coast above the city before your dragon walks you into his cave. Upon exiting the cold stone halls your mother is waiting for you with her hands folded and a frown etched on her face.

“Let’s go.” she turns on her heel and you follow behind her to the carriage. She glares at you from across the enclosed space and pinches the bridge of her nose as the carriage comes to another stop. “Stay here.” she’s out of the carriage instantly and the door is snapped shut. You lean back into the seat and groan just wanting to be back in your chambers and alone.

You start to loosen your riding gear wishing you could just put a night dress on and go to bed. You hear your mothers whispered shouts on the other side of the door before it’s being ripped open. You watch as your mother shoves a stumbling Aegon into the carriage before sealing herself in with you both. He takes the seat next to you and smells worse than he looks. Your mother looks over you both with disgust, mumbling under her breath.

“The Gods must have been playing a cruel joke on me when they sent you both to me.” she shakes her head, grabbing her Star of the Seven necklace. “You disappear in your cups and whores and you,” she gives you a pointed look. “Disappear to Gods knows where.” she scoffs.

“Do you wish for me to just sit in the castle until you marry me off?” you snap and Aegon chuckles from beside you.

“And I sit and wait until you usurp the throne from Rhaenyra?” his throat sounding raw.

“You two should be more grateful for all that is done for you. When we get back to the Keep you each will go straight to your chambers. I’ll hear no more.” she waves you both off off, turning her head to stare out the window.

You’ll be grateful when you’re sealed away in your chambers alone.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

11 Months Before

With the succession in question a war for the throne is inevitable. Ravens have been flying for weeks on end to secure secret alliances for the plotted usurpation. Many Lords and Lady’s have traveled to court to affirm these alliances and the Keep quickly becomes stifling. You can’t take the cramped halls and the constant feasts. You’ve had enough of the continuous parading about and the lunches and teas. Tonight is the night you leave.

The bag on your shoulder should feel heavy but it feels light as the air itself. You’ve had this planned for some time now you smile as you make it out of the Keeps gates. You slip through the city streets and push off people who try to stop you. You sprint up the Hill of Rhaenys to the dragon pits not caring to look behind you at the life you’re leaving behind.

The massive opening is dark as you slip in and wait for your eyes to adjust. You start in the familiar direction and rest your hands on the cool stones as you enter the caves. The familiar chuffs bring a smile to your face as you slowly enter the cave. He starts to uncurl and pushes his snout into you. You pat your hands down the length of him before climbing up and attaching your bag. You settle into the saddle and he takes you into the dark skies.

The moon lights your path as he leads you both west. You lean down and hug against his neck feeling his mighty wing beats. You fly on the breeze for hours until the sun begins to rise and you land in a small forest. You unhook from the saddle and recline back feeling safest still atop your dragon in strange lands.

ᓚᘏᗢ

A week has gone by and you’re dangerously low on supplies. You have no idea where you are but you saw a town not too far off when you landed for the day. You pull your bag down from behind the saddle and start to change out of your riding gear. The nearby creek offers you a different hair color that will help you blend in. The mud feels foul in your hair but once it dries you just look like a commoner living on the streets.

Holding your breath you wait at the edge of the tree line. You walk out and quickly make your way into the thrum of bodies down the main street. You stop at different stalls and pull coins out of your pocket trying to silently replenish your supplies. You move from vendor to vendor quickly trying to take as little time as possible so you can leave this town. Your bag is quickly filled and you turn on your heel to make an exit until a hand is wrapped around your wrist.

“I make it my business to know all of the people who carry gold coins in my town. You, I’ve never seen before. Who might you be under all of this mud?” you look up at the man looking down at you with dark eyes. You look him over searching for a house symbol or anything that will mark who he is.

“Let’s just take her back to the castle. Question her.” his company says. You look over this man and see the symbol of the Blackwoods. You know not all of the River Lords swore obeisance to your mother and grandfather but can’t remember if the Blackwoods were allies or not.

The grip on your arm is sure to leave a bruise as you're pulled through the streets to the castle in the center of the city. Whispers and nods of ‘My Lord’ follow in your wake through the halls. Surely this man isn’t Lord Benjicot he can’t be a day over five and twenty. You study him and he pulls you through a large wooden door. It looks to be his council chambers but before you can look around you’re pushed down into a seat.

“I’m a generous host when I know who my guest is.” the man sits back in his chair and looks you over.

“Who might my host be?” you ask softly and he tilts his head.

“You’re in my town and you don’t even know who I am?” he chuckles.

“In honesty I don’t even know the town I’m in. Not for certain. From my observations I’m assuming you’re Lord Benjicot?” he squints his eyes at you.

“Your speech is too fine and your pockets are too deep to be a commoner.” your heart starts to beat faster. “There’s been rumors of a dragon flying about at night and I’m wondering if you would know anything about that, as a traveler of course.” he tilts his head studying you.

“I have seen no such thing, my Lord.” you shake your head quickly.

“No? They say a Targaryen Princess is on the run. The Queen will pay well for any information.” your leg starts to shake. “Where do you come from?” he looks to his men and nods them out of the room leaving you both alone. Your chest starts to tighten not knowing what’s about to happen.

“I’m from everywhere.” your words hushed.

“Why would a Princess be on the run?” you watch as he rises and pours two glasses of wine. “And why is she all the way at Raventree Hall?” he sets a glass in front of you and takes his seat once more.

“I don’t know why a Princess would be on the run, my Lord.” you nibble your lip hoping that your denial will work. “If you’re truly housing the Princess I would keep your voice down or alert the Queen at once. These are trying times.” you keep your words hushed and avoid his eye contact.

“No matter how much mud you put in your hair it can’t dull the lilac of your eyes, Princess.” he sighs, taking a sip.

“Please,” the word barely audible. “I can’t go back. Please.” your eyes finally meet his and you see the sadness in them.

“Why are you running?” he nods prompting you to talk.

“I want to live a different life.” you scrunch your brows. “I don’t like being a Princess. I think if we lived other lives I must’ve not been very good in them.” you look at him with a half smile. “This life feels like a punishment.” he frowns at your words. “I’m looking for a way out. I can give you all my coin. Anything. Please just don’t sell me back to them.” you wipe away a wayward tear quickly and huff as you spot the look of pity on his face.

“What kind of Lord would I be if I denied a Princess refuge in her most desperate hour.” he jests but he doesn’t know how true his statement is. “You can stay for as long as you need. Unbeknownst to anybody.” he nods his head. “Should a dragon come at night, we have feed for him.” he offers you the start of a smile.

“What is your price?” you squint at him not understanding why he would agree to help you. You’ve never known a kind hand to come without a price.

“No price. It is my duty and honor to house you, Princess.” his face starts to soften.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

10 Months Before

It’s been just over one month since you’ve settled into Raventree Hall. Lord Benjicot, or Benji as he requests, has stayed true to his word. No Kingsmen have been through here and you’ve remained unfound. You dye your hair once every fortnight and keep to yourself. Your dragon is content enough to coast above the trees and indulge on the meat you bring him.

Even with time and distance from the Keep you still feel suffocated and watched by it. You feel lost and alone most days but you have no desire to go home. Benji has never made you feel like you must work to earn your keep here but you’ve become stagnant. You don’t feel like you belong here. The people are kind but they don’t truly know you. You’re constantly looking over your shoulder and you dislike dying your hair so often. You miss your silver hair and fine gowns. You want for a home and a family you’ve never had but at least you didn’t feel so utterly alone.

“How has my home been treating you, Princess?” Benji looks across the dining table at you. He sees the frown sculpted onto your face day in and day out.

“Very well. Thank you.” you nod and turn all your attention to your plate. You both share three meals a day and he never has anyone else at the table. You can’t help but feel like a burden. Surely you’ve over extended your welcome but he’s too kind to tell you to leave. Gods what if he tells someone where you are. “Though I think it’s time for me to leave.” you set your fork down and he looks at you stunned.

“As in you wish to retire to your chambers for the night?” he sits up and studies you more intensely. Had something happened that you didn’t tell him about?

“No, I think,” you nod your head, steeling yourself. “I think I need to go somewhere else. I don’t fit in here. I need something else. I need the wind, I need freedom. I feel stuck and lost.” you can’t help the words that continue to flow out of your mouth and he turns to you listening to everything you have to say. “I don’t belong here. Maybe Essos will call to me. I just need to not be here. Or anywhere.” you look up to him with tear stained cheeks and his heart stops.

He can tell you’ve been reluctant to open up to him but he can’t very well just let you leave out on your own. Benji decides right then he’ll go anywhere with you. To protect you. To care for you. To listen to you. To be anything you need him to be. He cannot bear the thought of you out there on your own.

“Then I offer you my sword, Princess. Wield me as you need. Allow me to make your journey less dangerous. Take me where you please. I’m yours to command.” your brows scrunch as you wipe away your tears.

“No.” you shake your head. “I cannot ask that of you. You’re a Lord and have duties and land to attend to.” you don’t even allow yourself to think of the idea of having him travel with you.

“Is it not my duty as a Lord to assist the royal family in any capacity I can?” he grabs his fork and begins to eat again. “It is not my desire to send you to your death on the road.” you watch his jaw flex.

“If you come with me, you know we will never be able to come back.” his eyes lock to yours as he nods. “It may even mean your death.” he sets his fork back down and looks at you unyielding.

“Give me at least a moon to make silent preparations and we’ll leave it all.” he sips his wine.

“And if my dragon won’t allow you to ride with us?” you sit back in your chair watching him.

“Then I shall follow you both from the ground. By horse or foot, I care not.” he shrugs.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

9 Months Before

You sit across from Benji as he looks over the map on his desk. You two have been trying to find a route that will offer ample coverage for your dragon during the day. You both have gone back and forth about whether to risk going through the Vale and decided it’ll be the quickest. Your only reservation is that it’s so close to Dragonstone but you have plans to travel by night and take extra precautions.

“We can leave when you want.” Benji looks at you and your eyes snap to him.

“You’re positive you want to come with?” you still can’t wrap your head around the idea that he genuinely wants to come with.

“I am.” he nods and rolls the map up and pushes it away from him.

“Why?” you chew your lip. “Why do you want to come with me?” you start to pick at your nails. “Why do you want to throw your life away for a sad Princess?” your chest tightens and you beg the tears not to come.

“You’re not the only one who wants to run from something.” his eyes hold the desperation you know all too well. “I don’t see it as throwing my life away. It’s not my desire to see you leave, no matter how selfish that sounds but I know this is no place for you. I,” he shakes his head at battle with himself whether to speak it. “I care for you deeply. More than I should but I would never do anything to cause you harm or displeasure.” his confession settles into your empty heart. He cares for you.

“I wish to leave tonight, Benji.” you stare at each other in silent agreement and he nods. “I will start packing.” you get up and start to the door and pause. “I care for you too.” the soft confession has Benji staring blankly at the door that softly clicks shut behind you.

ᓚᘏᗢ

The first week of travel has gone so smoothly and your mind has finally begun to settle. This time on the road you have more than enough supplies and Benji to hunt for you both. The first night when he said you two had to share a tent you blushed profusely and made him make a wall of supplies between the two of you until the chill of the night came. Every night, still with the same blush on your face much to your horror, he waits for you in the makeshift bed with open arms for you to curl into.

Slowly you’ve started to open up and relax more. Benji has been able to break down your walls and he’s never been more in love with a sound than your laughter. When he wakes up in the early morning to prepare you breakfast he takes the first couple minutes to himself to watch your soft smile as you sleep. He loves when he turns from the fire to be blinded by your silver hair in the sun as you stretch with pink cheeks. At night he relishes how you fight off sleep to talk to him about all of your dreams for the future and your lives once you get to Essos.

It all started so innocently you just wanted to kiss him. Just once. He didn’t tease you when you told him he was your first kiss he just asked if you would like to be kissed again. After the second kiss it was as if the invisible wall between you two lifted and you became one. When you were with him you felt as if this was the home you were looking for. He was kind and had patience with you and would worship you until you fell asleep.

The following weeks were some of the happiest times in your life. The days felt never ending and the nights were warm thanks to Benji. You both decided to slow your travel and move at a more leisurely pace as you make your way across the land. Your dragon hunts at night under the shadow of darkness and you begin to feel at ease. Within the next couple of days you both will reach the Vale and begin the last part of your journey in Westeros.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

8 Months Before

The Vale’s forests are more dense than either of you two anticipated. It's taken the three of you longer than anticipated but the road has been easy. Your dragon is content to live off of the land and fly in the open skies above the both of you. As of late you’ve been traveling closer to dawn than normal in hopes of being able to reach the coast quicker.

“By tomorrow we should be in Bravos.” his words are something you’ve been waiting to hear. Your heart is close to bursting. Your freedom is hours away. Once the sun slips under the horizon again you both can make your last flight over Westeros and leave.

“You still want to come with me?” you offer him leave every night. “I wouldn’t blame you if you just told everyone I’m crazy and forced you to take me to the coast.” you nibble your lip with a soft smile.

“I would be the crazy one to leave you here and now.” your smile widens at his words. “I’ve left everything behind for you and I would make that decision again and again.” he grabs your hands. “Whenever we settle in Essos, marry me.” your heart stops.

“You don’t mean that.” you shake your head.

“I do.” he nods his head with a smile. “Marry me.” he searches your eyes.

“I will.” you press your lips to his. You pull him into the tent when you hear distant thunder and tangle together in the bed before drifting off for the day.

ᓚᘏᗢ

You start to stir as you hear shuffling around outside. You smile that Benji is up and packing. By tomorrow you both will be in Bravos and planning your next move. You open your eyes and your heart feels as if it’s being ripped out of you as you open your eyes. It wasn’t thunder. How could you be so stupid? So hopeful?

“Please.” the word barely audible as Aemond looks down on you with disgust. “Please let me leave. Brother, please.” you stand clutching the blanket. “I’ll fly to Essos and you’ll never see me again. Please.” you beg as the tears stream down your face.

“Get dressed and get up.” his eye looks you up and down. “Mother has been waiting for you to come home.” he looks over at a waking Benji before he scoffs and leaves the tent. You grab your dress as you hiccup back a sob.

“What is going on?” he’s sitting up instantly.

“Aemond is here.” you shake your head. “I knew we shouldn’t have gone through the Vale. Then we lingered here for so long.” you curse yourself for letting yourself get so absentminded. “I can’t go back. Kill me. Please, Benji please. Use your dagger. Anything. Please.” you look around frantically for his blade. Your brother will surely tell your mother of the state he found you in and she won’t take lightly to it.

“I will do no such thing.” he grabs your wrists. “Look at me.” he watches your ragged breathing and eyes scanning around the tent. “We will get dressed and we’ll go together. I’m not leaving you.” you nod your head, unable to stop the constant stream of tears. After hastily dressing he grabs your hand and leads you out of the tent. You are greeted by Aemond, who is there waiting with members of the Kingsguard.

“Seize him.” Aemond tilts his head at Benji and the guards are pulling him away the next moment.

“Aemond please.” you plead. “Don’t kill him. Please.” you run to your brother grabbing his arms. “Please.” you sob and he grabs your face.

“It is not my decision. The council will decide his fate on our return.” you watch as they throw Benji into a covered wagon and start hauling him through the forest. “You’ll ride with me.” he grabs your arm and drags you over to Vhagar.

ᓚᘏᗢ

You’ve been locked in your chambers for hours. You pace around waiting for your mother to show up. You have no idea what has become of Benji and it’s making you sick. You need air, you need to see Benji. The doors of your chambers open to reveal your mother before they are shut again.

“You’ve been gone for months and Aemond finds you naked in a tent with a man? In the Vale? And we find out he’s a Blackwood? Gods.” she looks you over with the same disgust you saw in Aemonds eye. “You’ve been sullied no doubt.” your chest tightens as she continues with her ridicule.

“I love him.” your voice breaks. “We are going to get married.” she chuckles at you.

“Mm of course.” she rolls her eyes. “You had better hope the moon tea will still work.” you back away from her.

“I won’t drink it.” you rest your hands on your stomach. “ And if you kill Benji you kill me too. I won’t live. Mother please.” her eyes start to soften as you start to plead. “Please let him stay here with me. Please.” she smooths your hair back and pulls you into her embrace.

“Why him? I could have found you a nice husband.” she searches your eyes.

“I want to marry Benji.” she sighs and looks down at you with a frown. “I’ll run away again.” you shake your head pulling away from her. “I’ll take my life. I won’t stay here alone anymore. I can’t. I won’t.” you start to cry again.

“I will see what I can do.” she sighs and leaves you alone in your chambers once more.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

6 Months Before

In the two months since your arrival back in Kings Landing much had changed. Your mother had allowed Benji to serve as a guard in the castle. She had known not to test your bluff about taking your own life. He was assigned to a night post on the opposite side of the Keep and it was almost impossible to see him. When you got a glimpse of each other in the halls it made everything worth it and the meals you both would indulge in once every fortnight were the only things you were hold on to.

By the end of your first month back the maester was able to confirm your pregnancy. He urged you to tell your mother and you outright refused. He warrily agreed not to tell the Queen but you both knew it was only a matter of time. When you told Benji the news he cried and held you tightly and promised to take you away. Hours after he whisked you down the halls but as you turned the last corner a handful of guards stopped you both. After that night you have had at least three guards surrounding you at all times when you are outside of your chambers.

You’re not allowed out of your chambers often and most times are when you need to speak with your mother or for family meals. You haven’t seen your father in ages and rumors spread of his rapid decline. Your mother and grandfather have almost complete control of the throne it seems and everyone is holding their breath to see what happens next. The Keep feels colder than it has in years.

You quickly make your way to your mothers chambers to make your final plea of the day when you round the corner and run into Aegon. You take in his flushed cheeks and watery eyes and can tell he just came from where you’re headed. You notice too late he has one hand on your side and the other on your stomach from helping to steady you. Your spine stiffens as you stand up straighter.

“Does mother know?” he searches your eyes, removing his hands from you.

“No. Please don’t tell her, Aegon. Please.” you plead in a hushed tone.

“You’re almost as much of a disappointment as I am.” he chuckles. “She’ll find out soon enough.” he shakes his head at you.

“But please not by your mouth, brother.” you grab his hand and he nods at you once.

“Well beware,” he nods his head towards our mothers chambers. “She’s in quite the mood.” he shrugs and continues down the hall.

You pray to the Gods he keeps his mouth shut before you continue on your course to your mothers chambers. You knock quickly on her door and she sighs when she opens the door and sees you. She lets you in and you take a seat on the couch in her solar.

“What is it?” she takes a seat in the chair across from you. She looks less than pleased to see you and you shrink in her presence.

“Please let me see Benji.” she shuts her eyes at your words and groans.

“Gods I’ve had enough of this. Enough of you and this River Lord. Enough of your brother sullying his name in the streets. I’ve had enough.” she shakes her head and stands up. “If I hear another word about him this week he will no longer be seen by anyone.” your heart drops at her words.

“I-

“No.” she waves you off reclining in her chair. “Leave. Go back to your chambers.” she closes her eyes in dismissal and you rise with a hot face and wet eyes.

You sprint out of her chambers and down the hall until you’re alone and curled on your bed. You hold the blanket tightly and let out soft sobs so you don’t alert your guards. The door starts to open and you sit up quickly but when you look at the door it’s still shut. You look around your chambers and gasp with a smile as Benji is standing in a doorway in the wall. You stand up and he walks over to you engulfing you in a hug.

“How? What is this?” you mumble into his chest as you look at the doorway in the wall.

“Someone sent me to bring you this.” he holds out a ripped piece of parchment and you look at it with scrunched brows.

i wont tell mother

congrats

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

4 Months Before

The maester has kept his word of keeping quiet about your pregnancy and he suspects that you’ll be on the birthing bed in three months. Your handmaidens have proved their loyalty everyday by keeping you draped in large gowns and extra fabric to help conceal your bump. You’re terrified but so excited to bring such a pure light into this world. You know you have to tell your mother soon and you’re dreading her reaction. Benji has been such a solid force for you to lean on and you’re thankful for Aegon showing him the tunnels.

The tunnels have offered you and Benji everything the past two months. He has been staying with you every night and sometimes you pretend you’re both still in the small tent in the forest. You both secretly plan a better life for your child and hide away coin. You both decided to wait until after the babe comes in hopes of easier travel. Lately tensions around the Keep have been rising and it has you on edge.

“What if we just left now anyways. This babe will change everything. I think we should leave.” you grab his hands and look at him with pleading eyes.

“You are in no condition to travel. We don’t have a destination set. We can wait. It’ll be okay.” he nods and wipes your tears away. “I promise.” you want so badly to trust him but you feel a sense of impending doom.

“I’m scared.” you hiccup back a sob. “Benji, I'm so scared.” he rests his hand on your bump.

“It’ll be okay. I-“ your chamber doors open and your mother walks in.

“What is this?” her face crumbles as she looks at you both and the hand on your swollen stomach. “How? You kept this from me?” her expression changes from anger to hurt and then a mix of the two.

“Mother-

“How could you keep this from me?” she searches your face. “Go to your post, Benjicot.” she straightens her spine as she lifts her chin to him. He turns to you as you begin to cry. “If you do not leave now I will have guards come in and escort you out.” you stand in front of him and look to your mother.

“Please,” you sob. “Please, I love him, mother.” you hold onto his arm.

“Benjicot, leave now.” she raises her chin and stares at Benji. He pulls on his clothes while whispering promises that he will see you tonight. You follow him to the door crying the whole time. He squeezes your hand and slips out of your chambers.

“Mother, please.” you walk to her.

“Who knows?” she looks down her nose at you.

“No one.” you shake your head.

“Doubtful.” she scoffs. “Your handmaidens and at least one maester if you’re this far along. Gods I don’t even know what to do.” she lets out a bitter chuckle and looks up at the ceiling. “Why couldn’t you just have taken the moon tea? I let that pathetic River Lord stay here in exchange for you to drink it.” her eyes are filled with disdain.

“I would never have drank the tea.” you hold your bump protectively. “I love Benji and this child.” you look at her with watery eyes.

“You’re not even married.” she scoffs looking away. “My own daughter having a bastard.” she chuckles. Her harsh words are a shock to your senses.

“I don’t care.” you say exasperated. “Let us leave. Make up a story. I don’t care. I’m obviously not in the right condition for you to pawn me off for your throne so let us go. Please mother. Please we’ll disappear in Essos.” you know this is truly your final plea. Her knowing about your child is the tipping point.

“No.” she shakes her head. “You’ll remain in your chambers for the remainder of this pregnancy.” your heart sinks as she leaves sealing shut the doors to your chambers with such finality that you feel it in your bones.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

3 Months Before

The past month has been absolute agony for you. Benji still manages to find you through the tunnels but only for fleeting moments. You are watched so carefully that you can barely even get out of bed without your handmaidens rushing in. If your mother hadn’t sequestered you to your chambers the maester would have by now from how sunken you’ve become the more swollen your stomach becomes.

You’ve never felt more alone in your entire life. You’ve taken to talking to yourself and the unborn child you carry. The babe has told you that it’s a boy. You tell him stories you remember hearing about Essos and about the wind. He whispers to you at all hours of the day of the childhood he envisions and how he wishes his father could be with you now. I wish he was here.

“I wish he was here too.” you whisper cradling your bump. “One day. One day we’ll all be a family.” the words barely a breath.

Benji's PoV

Over the past month he’s watched you slowly lose yourself. He doesn’t understand how the Queen could do this to her own child. Someone so pure and sweet. When he enters your chambers for those minutes he holds so dear you look at him as if you don’t see him. Then when your eyes finally uncloud your face drops and you start crying and speaking High Valyrian.

He wants to take you away from here but he doesn’t know if you’ll make it. You haven’t been yourself since your mother found out and he’s so terrified. He should’ve just gotten you on your dragon in the Vale and let them kill him. He was so selfish for wanting a life with you.

He blames himself. He should’ve done more. He should’ve gotten you to safety and now you and his child are.. He doesn’t know. He clenches his fist as the tears fall down his cheeks. He wipes them away angrily before taking a deep breath and opening the secret door to your chambers.

Your PoV

He’s here. The babe whispers into your mind and you smile holding your bump. You look down as if you can see through the layers straight to the babe within. You can’t wait for the day you get to bring him into this world. You hope Benji will be at your side. Gods you miss him. He’s here.

“My Princess, please,” you know that broken voice. “See me, please.” you blink your eyes and you see Benji standing before you with a hand resting on your cheek.

“You're here.” a sob racks through your body. “Stay. Stay, please.” you grab onto him and hold him closely. “You’re here.” you whisper into his neck.

“I’m here.” he doesn’t know what to say. He holds you closely and you cling to him. “I’m here. I’m sorry.” he can’t stop his own tears as he holds you closely.

My father. The babe whispers with happiness. He’s here. You grab Benji's hand and bring it to your bump. You hold each other as the tears flow and he presses a kiss to your forehead before he rises. I don’t want him to leave. Your heart pangs.

“I love you. I will try to see you again soon.” his smile broken and defeated.

“I love you.” you watch him open the door. “Stay.” you whisper as the door clicks shut behind him.

“Princess, is everything okay?” a handmaiden opens up your main doors rushing to your side.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

2 Months Before

You overheard the news from two of your handmaidens who have long thought your mind no longer works. Your father was dead. You weren’t sad at the news. He’s been dead for sometime now. You turn as your chamber doors open. Your mother walks into the room and looks you over.

“Your father is dead. Aegon will be crowned tomorrow.” you look at her unblinking. “Benjicot is being sent to the wall. You will have this baby next month and you will be married to Lord Lannister shortly after.” you’ve been numb for some time now but her words slam into you.

“I won’t marry him.” you shake your head going to your couch. “We’re leaving.” you hum holding your bump. “Me, Benji, and our son.” you sit down on your chair. “Somewhere it’s always warm.” you offer her a soft smile. “We’re leaving after you join us.” you coo holding your stomach.

“He’s already on his way North.” she sighs, shaking her head. “He’s gone.” she starts walking towards the door. “Pull yourself together by the time Lord Jason comes to court. I won’t have you embarrass me.” the door thuds closed behind her.

He’s gone. He’s gone. You curl into the blankets on your bed as your handmaidens start to clean up your chambers. After lighting the hearth they leave tea on your table and leave you. You stare out the window feeling the tears fall down your cheeks. He’s gone.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Someone’s here. I don’t care. He’s sad. So am I. He’s crying. You peel your eyes open and Aegon's red eyes greet you as he lays next to you.

“What has she done to you?” he searches your dead eyes.

“What of you?” your voice raw as you see the telling indentations across his brow where the crown sat minutes ago.

“I’ll try to do something.” he whispers and you offer him a tired smile.

“There's nothing to be done. She’s already sent him to the wall.” his watery eyes meet yours. “Besides you offered us so much when you showed Benji those tunnels. I never got to thank you for that.” you brush his hair back.

“I wish I could’ve given you more.” his eyebrows scrunch.

“You’ve given me enough.” you close your eyes and turn back over. You hear him leave and let the world go dark around you once again. We’re alone. We have each other. I miss him. I miss him too. I’ll be with you soon.

Benji’s PoV

Benji wakes up chained to a wooden bench being carted down the Kings Road. He’s surrounded by common criminals and he tugs on his chains to see if they’re loose. He bangs his head against the wood and the man next to him chuckles.

“Like we would be that lucky.” the man smirks. “We’re already lucky enough to be going to the wall instead of the gallows.” he shrugs, shutting his eyes.

Benji ignores him and begins to try and form a plan. Why are they sending him to the wall? You’re about to give birth and he won’t be there. Gods he doesn’t know what to do. He should’ve gotten you out. He has to believe he still has a chance to do so.

He doesn’t know what to do. His heart starts to pump faster and his breathing becomes ragged. He’s being taken from you when you need him the most. He’s terrified of what they’ll do to you in his absence. He needs to get free. He needs to return to you and his child. He needs to.. He needs to.. He needs..

“What's wrong with you?” the man next to him mumbles as his vision goes black as he passes out from panic and anxiety.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

1 Month Before

It's time. The voice wakes you along with the immense pressure. You don’t call for anyone as another wave of pain washes through you when you sit up in the dark. You prop yourself up on the pillows and focus on your breathing. I get to meet you soon. A sharp pain tears through you.

Your teeth dig into your lip as the pressure builds. Your fingers dig into your knees as you spread your legs and begin to push. I’m here. The voice soothes you as you continue in silent anguish. You’re almost there. A small cry comes from you as your son pushes out of you and onto the bed. You scoop him up and bring him to your body.

He gives out a soft cry and nuzzles against your chest. You’re here. I’m here. You hold him alone in your chambers rocking him and having no care for the after birth or any of the mess and tending to you need. Your child was here. You weren’t alone. He’s here. I’m here. He’s here. I'm not alone.

“Princess.” your handmaidens gasp as they open your door.

“Oh Gods.”

“Get the Maester.”

“Get the Queen.” hurried whispers float around your chambers as you continue to silently rock your son.

“What’s happened?” your mother bursts into your chambers. “Gods.” she looks at you. “Clean her up.” she walks over and grabs the babe out of your arms. You try to reach for him but she’s out of your chambers and suddenly your son is gone.

Where are you? I’m here. Where are you? My son. I’m here. Where are you? “Where are you? I’m here. Where are you? I’m here.” screams tear from your body. “Where are you? Where are you?” you call out over and over.

“Princess calm down.” your handmaidens look at you with concern.

“Where are you?” the maester walks over to you with a cup and pours its contents down your throat. “I’m here. Please, I’m here. Where are..”

I’m here.

Please, where are you?

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

1 Week Before

Where are you?

You haven’t seen your son since you’ve given birth to him. The only people you see are your handmaidens and the maester who gives you sleeping drafts. You haven’t seen any of your siblings. Not even your mother. You have no one. No one is coming for you. You’re alone.

Where are you?

You’re in the tunnels in the dead of night holding a candle stick. The stone bites into the soles of your feet as you climb higher making your way towards the maester’s tower. You softly push on the door and peek in seeing an empty room filled with glass vials and books.

Where are you?

Your eyes scan over the small glass tubes quickly reading them over. You walk over to the cabinets and continue your search. It has to be in here. A comforting warmth washes over you as your eyes stop.

Tears of Lys.

There you are.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

1 Day Before

Your mother sits across from you for the first time since she took your son. She mentions nothing of him and instead tells you of your wedding tomorrow. Apparently Lord Jason is here and awaiting your company. You don’t speak or hold her eye contact. You stare at your nails as she continues to tell you what your life is to become. You wince as you dig into the skin around your nail and a droplet of blood appears.

You decide it has to be tonight. You have no idea what the state of the realm is in and have no desire to try and tread through it again. Especially now that you’re all alone. You call out to your son everyday but never get a response. They took your two great loves. You’re alone.

I’m sorry. I’m leaving. I can’t stay.

Benji’s PoV

Tonight was the first night they didn’t chain him when he slept. After everyone was asleep and the man on the night watch turned he was gone. There’s a month of travel and a war between you both right now but he will do everything to get back to you and your child. He wishes he had a way to get a message to you but it’s impossible.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

1 Hour Before

You sit at a desk with a blank expression and a quivering hand. The ink splatters across the parchment and you scrunch it up and grab a new one. This one is stained with your tears.

Benjicot and my boy-

I’m sorry. I promised you both freedom and songs of the wind. Instead I’ve ruined everything.

I will be with you both again in the afterlife.

-Your wife and your mother

You leave the parchment spread on the desk next to the countless others you attempted to write. Walking to the table that holds your wine feels as if you’re walking across the city. You hold onto the wine with a shaking hand and pour yourself a glass of wine. You pull the vial out of your pocket and empty the entirety of it into your glass of wine. You swirl the red liquid around and down the mixture. You set the glass and vial next to your letter and go lay back on the bed.

You let out one last exhale before shutting your eyes and calling out one last time.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Death

Where are you?

I will remain here.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

2 Months After - Benji's PoV

The one month journey turned into two because of the raging war. The road was hard but all he thought about was you and your child. Gods he misses you so much. He doesn’t know what is waiting for him in Kings Landing but whatever it is he’s taking you both to Essos and starting the life you planned those months ago. No waiting, no excuses.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Getting into Kings Landing was easier than Benji had thought. He snuck in through the docks and made his way into the Keep through the tunnels. He walked up to your chambers and listened for any sounds. You must be asleep. He opens the door and finds your chambers empty.

No, your chambers look abandoned. Left as they were never to be lived in again. He walks to your desk and sees the letter. The empty vial next to the empty glass. No. No. This isn’t real. No, he won’t accept this.

“No.” he shakes his head reading it again. “No. Where is she?” he grabs the letter and slips back into the tunnels. Where are you? Where have they hidden you away? This isn’t real. Where are you? Benji’s heart races as he flies down the stairs.

He makes his way down the steps and into the crypts. He won’t believe it. It can’t be. He presses against the wall as he sees someone kneeling on the stone lighting a candle. He waits the couple minutes the woman whispers before she pads away. He continues down the hall and falls to his knees at the lit candles. No. No. His vision blurs as the tears fall.

“I’m sorry.” he chokes out. “I’m here. I’m sorry.” he looks at the date etched on the stone dating two months ago. He was far too late. “I’m sorry.” he grabs for his dagger. “I’m here. I’ll be with you soon.” he brings the tip of the blade to his heart. “I’m sorry.” he lets out a sob.

“Stop.” his head turns at the soft voice. “There’s someone who needs you.” he follows the stranger up the tunnel steps and into the back of the nursery. A small boy with black hair and violet eyes stares up at him. He’s here.

“My boy.” Benji picks him up. “Our son.” he starts to cry. He’s here.

He turns to thank the stranger but they’re gone. He wraps his son up and packs a bag quickly and leaves out of the Keep through the tunnels. He races to the docks and shoves coin into a shipmate's hand and boards the boat, stowing himself and your son away in the underbelly. They’ll arrive in Essos by the end of the day. Your dream is coming true but you’re not here to see it. He holds your son tighter as his tears start once more.

As the ship leaves the harbor there is a loud crack heard from the city followed by a roar. Benji looks up and sees your dragon flying above the Blackwater with a chain hanging from his neck. No other dragons come for your dragon and Benji thanks the Gods they were able to get away.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

4 Months After

Benji sits with his son in the countryside just outside of Volantis. Above your dragon soars on the wind. He’s followed the two of them across Essos and watches over their travel. Benji was worried the dragon would bring too much attention but no trouble has come of it. Your dragon only approached Benji once when they first landed to allow him to remove the chains but since then he keeps his distance. Your dragon seems to be waiting for your son to acknowledge the claim he has placed on him already.

Benji is thankful for this last gift you’ve given them.

The sun is high and warm as the light breeze flows through the tall grass.

Faintly, Benji swears he can hear your voice wind.

I’m here.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌

um i cried while writing this and while editing and while just thinking abt it xx

pls take care of yourself bc i know this is a rough topic and there are people out there who care for you and who will answer when you call and there are resources out there if you need them!!

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004 @ninihrtss

#benjicot blackwood #benji blackwood #benjicot x reader #benji x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #benji blackwood x reader #hotd x reader #benji angst #x reader #targtowers #fancast benjicot #x reader fic #x reader angst

181 notes · View notes

ddreamywitch · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter Seven - Take Me to Church

knight!benjicot x princess!reader

Word count: 3.5k

Song: Take Me to Church - Hozier

a/n: Benji pov fans (me) RISE UPP!!

Benji's mind is spinning in circles like never before.

What has he done?

Why has he done it?

He looks at you, your cheeks an intense shade of cherry-red and he wants to throw up a little bit.

How could he do this to you? How could he have done this to you?

You are so soft and innocent, you are to be wed, you are the king's daughter.

His uncle must be right. He is a man barely in charge of his instincts.

"Would you stop looking at me like that," you say.

He clears his throat and steps back. "Apologies," he mumbles. Then he takes another, precautionary step back, because he feels the closeness is only making things worse.

There is an arm's length distance between the two of you now and you are looking at him very confused.

Maybe he should jump off the tower.

You hum an unsure sound, a question of what to do now.

Benji clears his throat again. "Apologies, princess, I should not have been so..."

"So un-knightly?" you offer to finish his sentence.

He nods. Now you look a bit hurt and he wishes he could turn back time.

Ser Benjicot of House Blackwood was certainly no stranger to a woman's touch but this is certainly new territory to him. This is a woman far above him. He had never had affiliations with somebody like this. In all honesty, he had never even spoken to a noble woman that outranked him for longer than a fleeting moment before he had met her.

None of this would have happened if he hadn't threatened to kill the entirety of the Bracken clan during their meetings to make peace.

A statement he still feels is justified given how those depraved heathens act.

"Benji, would you please say anything," you plead.

"Hmm, can't." It comes out sounding as though he's swallowing his own bile, which is also what is happening. Oh god in heaven above, what had he done.

You pick up the discarded tiara and per instinct he averts his eyes, as if his tongue hadn't just been stuck in your throat mere minutes ago.

They were going to execute him for this. And you would be shunned.

Who even is ‘they’? Nobody knows.

"Nobody can ever find out," he says.

You snort as you sort your ridiculous feathered monstrosity of a tiara out on your head. "I wasn't about to tell the town-crier, Benjicot, I am not slow."

No, that is right you are not. Why had you even kissed him? Or had he kissed you?

"My god, all those stories about you impaling people and yet you stand before a woman quivering."

He meets your eyes and it feels like a punch to his stomach, right where he is the most vulnerable, but he doesn't understand why he feels that way.

"I'm sorry."

You seem mad. "I will go to my chambers now. Will Ser Corrigan take the night's watch?"

Ser Corrigan? What an odd face to think about at this moment. A weathered, old man, such a harsh contrast to whom he is looking at now, with your soft edges and your softer lips and those eyes that are looking at him with much intensity.

"I believe yes."

You nod and lift your dress, decidedly making your way down the stairs again.

He remains where he is, incapable of moving even as he listens to your steps get quieter.

Why, why, why can he never ever think before he acts?

His feet drag across the floor, heavy with the weight of his decisions as he follows you down into the heart of the castle.

He catches up with you just as you're about to slam the door into his face.

Per instinct his hand shoots out, just for it to be squashed.

You gasp in horror, which is so tooth-achingly sweet that it makes his veins burn.

Ser Corrigan is standing by the door and glances back and forth between the two of you.

"My god, Ser Benjicot," you scold and open the door a little wider.

There's a twitch in your fingertips and he'd like to think that it's because you want to reach for him, even if it's only to see if he's injured.

Which he isn't. "It's fine, I will just bruise."

You pout, in that angry way you tend to, clearly not satisfied with his answer.

"Step inside, I wish to have a word for you."

Ser Corriggan harrumphs. You both look at him confused. In fact you look a little bit like you are realising just now that he is also present for this exchange.

"Princess, I am certain that the Lord of the house will soon arrive to question your early departure from dinner," he reminds you.

Benji wishes that ugly toad would fall down a flight of stairs. The Cathcart toad. He doesn't have an issue with Corrigan. Except, perhaps, for the fact that he is here and talking when he feels the very deep-rooted need to explain himself to you.

You sigh. "Would you please send him away when he comes? I am in no mood to be infantilized by an overgrown boy."

Ser Corrigan nods. but there is doubt etched into the lines of his face.

Benji wants to say something to him but he has no time to, your fingers are forceful in the leather plates on his forearm.

Tamsyn looks terrified.

Benji is painfully aware that she is terrified of him. He misses Marion. Not that he knew her well, but she didn't look like she may hurl the moment he laid eyes on her, the way that this girl is.

"You are excused," you tell her and he's glad but yet there is an inkling of nervosity in his chest, scratching at the walls of his insides.

You grab his hand, twist and turn it. He tries to not let it bother him. "It doesn't hurt," he says.

One thumb presses into the back of it. "Does this hurt?"

The wince is stopped in his throat but he can't hide his facial expression betrays him.

"Why in the world would you do that? The door cannot be locked anyway," you scold and drop his hand.

You cross the room, a glimmering green flurry of layers.

He stands there, like some sort of unwanted fixture until you return from your vanity with a tiny vial and a long white piece of fabric, the function of which he cannot identify until it is ripped by your wrathful hand.

"Is that your veil?", he asks. You don't answer.

Instead you grab his hand and leave a generous trail of your oil across his knuckles. "It's arnica, lavender and rosemary. This is supposed to be your good hand, you cannot ruin yourself so carelessly."

"You are being theatrical," he tells you and regrets it when your face goes sour like spoiled milk.

"Am I? Am I being dramatic? The only reason you are still here is your ability to kill quicker than you think."

It hurts him where you want it to hurt him. "Why are you so enraged?"

With a poking finger you guide him to the bed. "Sit," you order. If he wasn't already on thin ice, he'd make a joke about how commandeering you can be.

It reminds him of when you had set his nose, except then you had cowered down to be at eye level with him. You don't do that now and with a lot less gentleness you wrap up his hand.

Entirely unnecessary, but he feels he should let you or else you might actually break a finger of his. Or two.

"You know what I meant." It becomes a question as it rolls off his tongue.

"You didn't even say anything to be misunderstood, Lord Benjicot Blackwood."

His name is an insult, by the way it drips with venom.

"I must have, because why else would you be trying to strangle my wrist."

Your touch loosens in an instant.

"Well, if you must know, I would have hoped for something more than watching you nearly throw up into the courtyard right after shoving your tongue into places where into places where it isn't supposed to be."

It is hard to not grin but social complexities aren't entirely lost on him.

"My apologies."

"Not accepted," you mumble through gritted teeth and finish up the bandages. "Find some herbs for me and I might consider accepting."

He nods as he looks up at you, praying that you don't notice that you're still holding his hand.

Your face is stern, a look so unnatural on you, he wants to wipe it off.

"I will find herbs," he promises and unthinkingly, maybe unknowingly, he isn't certain, his thumb swipes a circle across your knuckles.

Knuckles that have never hurt, knuckles free of scars, softer than his hands have ever been.

You wince and pull your hand out of his grasp and he thinks he's overstayed his welcome but you sit down next to him.

"Benji."

"Witch."

You scoff. Fingertips begin twisting the rings on your fingers.

"You know I cannot be careless about this. I cannot go forth and pretend it didn't happen."

He wraps his hand around yours again. "I know."

"Now you must tell me what your intentions are."

Benji halts and looks at you confused. You roll your eyes.

"That is how one courts a lady," you explain further.

"Ahh." Now he cannot hide the grin. "I cannot court you, you know this."

"You can court me in secret."

He chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. "My intentions are pure-hearted little witch."

"I highly doubt it. You are a rake. And also you are nicknamed 'Bloody Ben' which is just ridiculous if you ask me. And even further you constantly look like you've just buried a body, to the point that even Marion feared you." You throw your free hand up in exasperation. "Marion!"

His hand is beginning to hurt now that the adrenaline has ebbed down a bit. "I'm not so bad, you know. I didn't rat you out. I didn't even complain when you drooled onto my pants the other night."

Every single time he sees you flush his heart grows so far he swears his ribs are digging into it.

Suddenly, he can't remember why he was so terrified earlier.

"I promise I will try to not be careless. And I will attempt to look less...bloody?"

You shake your head. "I don't want you to change. You're alright as you are. I am more so concerned with your ability to handle secrecy."

"I am an excellent keeper of secrets."

"You don't wear a mask."

He frowns at you. "What? Are we at a masquerade ball?"

"No, I mean you wear your emotions on your face. It's your greatest flaw. I don't know how this can be, I don't imagine you do this when you fight people."

Benji had never thought about this. But then again, there are many things he hadn't thought about before he met you. There's a lot of things he never thought about before today.

There's a weird thing between the two of you now. It looms over you as you squeeze his hand and when you drop your head against his shoulder. He isn't courting you.

You are to be married.

He's kissed you, feverishly, with all-consuming passion and he can't go back and he doesn't want to but he can't go ahead either.

He's stuck. Once again. Though it is starting to feel less like he's stuck as your knight.

Quite an easy duty, with a princess like this.

There's a bang on the door and the two of you jolt apart in an instant. He misses your hair tickling his jaw instantly.

"Your highness," Lord Cathcart sneers through the door.

"Wanker," Benji mumbles beneath his breath.

"What?" You yell out.

"Come out. I wish to speak with you."

You get up but Benji is faster once more, cracking open the door the tiniest bit. "The princess has retired for the night. You may speak with her on the morrow, my good Lord."

The slimy man pries his hands into the small opening. Fortunately he has no real strength compared to Benjicot, who stops the thing from moving as far as an inch. "You forget yourself, bloody Ben. This is my castle."

At this, Benji opens the door far enough to push himself through and Erik away. The fool stumbles.

He can't say it's not amusing to him.

"And these are the chambers of a woman. You have no right to them. Only the king does."

He pauses and does a dramatic look around the hallway.

"And as far as I am able to tell he is not here."

Eric sputters and reddens. Not like you do, but in an angry entirely off-putting manner, that almost makes Benji want to giggle.

"You rest assured Blackwood boy, your days as a knight are counted."

Benji shrugs. "The Brackens will surely be happy to have me as their neighbour once more."

Lord Cathcart scoffs. "You'll be lucky to get out alive."

And as if he hadn't heard a word just spoken he heads to the door, where you are standing.

You look a bit dishevelled and Benji is a bit proud but he can't think on it too long, as Erik towers over you with the last shred of authority he can conjure up. "You will be my wife. I offered to go about this smoothly, but you went ahead and disrespected me. You will be my wife and then you will have no choice but to obey. I shall see to that."

Benji doesn't need to say anything this time. Ser Corrigan steps between your figures and clears his throat. "The princess is not to be spoken to in such a manner. I think it best we all rest tonight and tomorrow there will be a new day to set things right."

Erik Cathcart is not one bit pleased but he realises he has not much choice and so he yields and scurries off like the little weasel that he is.

The sight of him makes Benji want to ram his head into a wall.

The king is a fool for sending his daughter into the arms of this man, for removing her from the castle, for running the entire kingdom into the ground like nobody in his ancestry before him had ever managed.

One could only hope that a fallen woman like Lady Cathcart is worth this much trouble.

Hell, Benji wouldn't ever care about the societal standing of a woman but he has never let last night's fuck influence today's mood in his life.

He looks to you and then back at Ser Corrigan, who has become very hawk-eyed all the sudden.

"I think it's for the best if I retire to my bed as well," he says and you nod in acceptance, though he can't help but notice the smidge of disappointment in your eyes.

His feet guide him to the yard and then the stables where a young man bows to him in panic.

He remembers that this is Bracken affiliated ground. God knows what cruel tales have been told of his fights. They all likely think him to be a man with no honour.

Benji wants to and saddle a horse, desperate to clear his mind, when his gaze flickers out the door and falls on the church.

He hesitates for a moment, debating his choices, when he decides that it can’t hurt to pay the confessional a visit.

It’s a small church, not very decorated. The one at the capital has huge stained windows and your dresses tend to look quite…pretty in that lighting. That is also about the only thing he could fathom to like about being inside that place.

He’s never been religious, nowhere near as much as he likely should be.

The thought of a god looming over his head has never made him anything but uncomfortable.

He finds it unsettling that he might be judged by an omniscient creature. He also finds that religious people are often liars.

And yet, there he stands, in the hallway, staring at the altar.

He’s not even sure how confessions even work anymore.

The priest floats into the room at the other end of it, the same one as from the dinner. He’s such an odd looking person.

“Ah. I thought you might appear here, son,” he says, his voice echoing.

Benji scrunches his nose a little. “Did you now, father?” He takes a few tentative steps forward. “I’d like to confess something.”

The priest nods and points towards the confessional. For a third time, he contemplates his choices but he decides that he’s no coward and takes a seat on his side of the booth.

“In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

There’s a beat of silence until Benji remembers what to do. “Amen,” he says after clearing his throat. “Bless me Father for I have sinned, it has been…I don’t remember, since my last confession.”

Here goes. What’s there to lose? Maybe his mind, Benji thinks to himself.

“I have corrupted somebody.”

The priest doesn’t speak.

Benji clears his throat again. This feels violently tense. He’s not sure it should be.

“I suppose my sin is cardinal. Sin of Lust.”

The priest’s gown makes a ruffling sound. “Ah. It is a common one.”

“This one has pretty high stakes involved, I assure you, father.” He is fairly certain that being sarcastic with a clergyman in a confessional booth is not something you’re supposed to do. But what’s it matter? He doubts a quick trip here could save his soul anyway.

“Perhaps I should go.”

“No. Stay. Tell me what troubles you, son. Only God can help through all.”

Benji sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “Well, I have kissed a girl. She is promised to another and I have put her virtue at risk.”

He glances over, through the barred hole in the wall and distantly makes out the side profile of the priest. “Did you force her hand?”

“No. I have killed men but I do have some dignity.”

“Well, then the girl is also guilty of a sin. But it is normal. God has made us flawed creatures. It is the way our lives go. You made the good choice, coming here. Pray the litany of Mary Magdalene three times, son.”

He doesn’t enjoy the fact that the priest keeps calling him son. That should be reserved for one person only. He wipes his hands clean on his pants, clean of nothing in particular. He gets up to leave.

“Wait,” the priest commands. “I must warn you.”

Benji frowns. “Of what?”

The priest’s voice drops to a whisper. “There is treachery afoot in the house of Cathcart. Other houses too. I do not know the extent of it.” The priest’s gown rustles. “You must worry. You must watch yourself.” There’s a pause. “And you must write to the heir to the throne.”

Benjicot stares at him now. “What?”

“You think the Lord to be a fool and in many ways he is. But he is part of a grand scheme. I cannot tell you more.”

Benji hurries out of the booth around to the other side. “What the fuck are you blabbing about?”

“This is a house of God,” the priest reprimands at his cursing. “And I will not. I mustn’t endanger you. You need to be alive and well to serve the princess, do you not?”

“Is that a threat, old man?”

The priest shakes his head. “I am helping you. Write to the prince. Tell him to tread carefully.”

He points towards the entry. “This betrothal is a curse.”

He has to suppress the urge to point the dagger in his pocket against the man’s neck and get more out of him. But he remembers you and your words. He does not know how to handle the web of conspiracies that are spun around the nobility. He does not know how to solve them without laying hands and even then that would rarely diminish the problem.

Benji steps back and considers the priest. “Well, then. Three litanies.”

With that he hurries out of the church. On the morrow he shall tell you. For now, he falls into his bed, mind continuously spinning around your kiss. When sleep comes for him, you leave with his thoughts and enter again through his dreams.

taglist:

@dancingbaek

@jhepolie

@knight-of-flowerss

@majoso12

@rebeccawinters

@poppyflower-22

@nixtape-foryou

@accidentpronedork

@xlittlefiend

@vqmpyrecult

@chainsawsangel

@esposadomd

@juhdoche

#benjicot blackwood #hotd #benjicot blackwood x reader #benjicot x reader #davos blackwood #house of the dragon

76 notes · View notes

blakeswritingimagines · 6 months ago

Text

Relationship List With Benjicot Blackwood

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Benjicot is affectionate with his family and those he is close to, though he does his best to hide it publicly for the image it gives him in the eyes of his warriors. In private, however, he is very warm and loving, especially towards you and any children you share. He shows his affection through small gestures and words of kindness, like giving you a flower he picked, or a small gift like a carving of a bird or animal he has made for you.

B = Beginning (How would the relationship start?)

The relationship between you and Benjicot would begin in a small, unassuming way. Perhaps he notices you one day and feels immediately drawn to you, or you cross paths and engage in pleasant conversation. Over time, a friendship begins to form, and Benjicot grows increasingly fond of you until he musters the courage to express his deeper feelings.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Benjicot loves to cuddle with you, he finds it incredibly comforting and enjoyable. He would likely prefer cuddling with you in a cozy, comfortable spot such as a bed, couch, or armchair. He would wrap his arms around you tightly, pressing you close to his chest and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He would likely also enjoy running his fingers through your hair or gently caressing your back.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Benjicot is definitely looking to settle down with you and start a life together. He is not the best cook in the world, but he will happily try his best to make food for you, even if it's not always successful. He will also pitch in to help with cleaning and other chores, knowing that it's important to maintain a comfortable and tidy home. Benjicot is dedicated to making a comfortable and happy home life with you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Benjicot had to break up with you, he would be devastated and would likely find it incredibly difficult to do. He would approach you in a private setting, looking very distressed and sad. He would express his feelings and explain that he still cares deeply for you, but he feels like the relationship is not working out and that it's time for you to go your separate ways. He would likely be heartbroken and tearful, not wanting to let you go but feeling like it's the best thing to do for both of you. He would express his hope that you can remain friends.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Benjicot is someone who deeply values commitment and would want to get married as soon as possible, once he has found the right person. He longs for a stable and committed relationship, and once he finds someone he loves and trusts, he will want to commit to them completely. He will likely propose marriage early on in the relationship and will be eager to start planning the wedding as soon as possible.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Benjicot is a gentle person, both physically and emotionally. He speaks calmly and kindly, and always tries to avoid causing harm or distress. In terms of physicality, he is very tender and considerate in the way he touches and interacts with you. He will be careful and gentle when holding you or touching you, and will always prioritize your comfort and safety over his own desires.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Benjicot loves hugs, and he will hug you every chance he gets. He will often wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly and pressing you close to his chest. he will likely bury his face in your shoulder or hair, inhaling deeply and taking comfort in your presence. He will also give warm and enveloping hugs, making you feel safe and protected in his arms.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Benjicot is not someone who would throw the words "I love you" around lightly. He would likely take his time before saying those three special words, only saying them once he was completely certain of his feelings and was ready to commit to the relationship. Until that moment, he would express his affection for you through small gestures and words of affection, but he would be hesitant to say "I love you" until he was absolutely sure that he meant it 100%.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Benjicot can be quite protective and possessive over you, and he tends to get jealous quite easily. If he sees another person flirting with you or showing any interest in you, he will likely feel a surge of jealousy and possessiveness. He will likely try to distract you and keep your attention focused solely on him, and may even confront the person who is making him feel jealous. He may also be more protective and watchful of you, trying to keep you close and ensure that no one else can take you away from him.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Benjicot's kisses are deep, passion-filled, and full of love and desire. He loves to kiss you on the lips, but he also enjoys kissing other parts of your body, such as your neck, shoulders, and collarbone. He will also often place soft, gentle kisses on your forehead, cheeks, eyes, and nose, expressing his tenderness and affection in subtle ways. Benjicot enjoys receiving kisses from you just as much as he enjoys giving them, and he will be happy to let you kiss him wherever you please.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Benjicot is incredibly soft and gentle with children, and he adores them. He will often crouch down to their level to speak to them and will play and interact with them in a warm and friendly manner. He is always patient and kind with children, and he will do whatever he can to make them feel loved and comfortable. He may also enjoy reading to them or telling stories, and he will likely bond closely with any children he has or comes into contact with.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

With Benjicot, mornings are a time of warm and snuggly intimacy. He is not someone who likes to jump out of bed as soon as he wakes up and instead prefers to spend his mornings cuddling with you, lazily enjoying your company and closeness. He will likely pull you close to him, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his face into your hair, relishing the feeling of holding you close as he slowly awakens.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

With Benjicot, nights are a time for intimacy and connection. He will often want to spend his nights in your arms, either talking and laughing together or simply holding each other in comfortable, warm silence. He will likely prefer to stay in rather than go out, enjoying the cozy comfort of being alone together in the privacy of your home. He will hold you close and may even want to cuddle or fall asleep together, enjoying the feeling of being closely connected to you as the night wears on.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Benjicot is someone who tends to be a bit reserved and cautious when it comes to revealing things about himself. He will likely take his time to open up and share his thoughts and feelings, being careful not to reveal too much too quickly. He will likely start by sharing small, surface-level details about himself, such as his hobbies and interests, before gradually diving deeper into more vulnerable emotions and experiences. He may take a while to fully open up and share the deepest parts of himself, but once he does, he will be incredibly vulnerable and honest with you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Benjicot is generally a patient and mild-mannered person, and it takes quite a lot to anger him. He will often take his time to process his emotions and think before responding to something that upsets him, preferring to communicate calmly and logically rather than lashing out in anger. However, if he feels that someone has wronged him or someone he cares about, he can become quite protective and passionate and may have a hard time restraining his emotions. In general, however, Benjicot is quite even-tempered and rarely gets angry or aggressive.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Benjicot is a very observant and attentive partner, and he will make an effort to remember every little detail about you that you mention in passing. He will likely remember your favorite color, food, hobby, and any other small details that you share with him, holding onto those details like precious memories. He will often bring up little things that you have mentioned in the past and use those memories to make you feel special and seen.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Benjicot has many favorite moments in your relationship, but one that stands out to him most is the first time you told him that you loved him. It was a moment that he had been waiting for for a long time, and hearing those three words from you filled him with a sense of joy and contentment that he had never felt before. He will often look back on that moment with fondness and remember the feeling of pure happiness that washed over him when he heard you say "I love you" for the first time.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Benjicot is incredibly protective of you and will always put your safety and well-being above his own. He will be watchful and vigilant, keeping an eye out for any potential threats and ready to step in if necessary to protect you. He takes his role as your protector very seriously, and will do everything in his power to keep you safe and secure.

As for how he would like to be protected, he values your emotional support and love. He draws strength and comfort from knowing that you care about him and will stand by his side.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Benjicot will put a lot of effort into making your dates, anniversaries, and special occasions as memorable and enjoyable as possible. He will often plan romantic activities and surprises for you, making sure that these moments are special and meaningful.

In terms of everyday tasks, Benjicot will likely be incredibly attentive and supportive, helping you out with whatever you need and making sure that your needs are taken care of. He will likely also show his love and affection in small, everyday gestures, taking the time to do things like make you a cup of coffee or help you with household chores.

U = Ugly (would be some bad habits of theirs?)

One bad habit that Benjicot can have is being quite stubborn and refusing to admit when he is wrong. He can also be a bit overly protective and possessive of you, which can sometimes come across as controlling. Additionally, he may be prone to bouts of self-doubt and insecurity, which can affect his confidence and make him moody or withdrawn at times.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? Do your looks bother them?)

Benjicot does care about his appearance and takes pride in looking his best. He frequently grooms himself and takes good care of his appearance. However, he is not overly vain or obsessed with his looks, and he values inner beauty and character far more than physical attractiveness. So, your looks would not bother him as long as you are healthy, happy, and being the best version of yourself.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Benjicot would likely feel a deep sense of emptiness and incompleteness without you. He feels incredibly connected and bonded to you and considers you a vital part of his life. Without you by his side, he would likely feel lost and alone, missing your presence and the connection he shares with you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

A random headcanon for Benjicot is that he loves to go for long walks in the forest or countryside whenever he needs time to clear his mind. He finds the peace and tranquility of nature to be incredibly soothing and restorative, and he will often spend hours walking and reflecting on the beauty of the natural world, finding solace and comfort in the silent embrace of the trees and the fresh air.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

One thing that Benjicot wouldn't like in general is dishonesty or deceit. He values truth and integrity above all else, and he would be deeply hurt and disappointed if he found out that someone he trusted was not being honest with him. In a partner, he would not appreciate it if they were flaky or unreliable, as he values trust and dependability in a relationship. He would also not appreciate someone who was critical or negative, as he tends to have a positive outlook on life and looks for someone who will support and uplift him, rather than bring him down.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs? Does it change around a partner?)

Benjicot tends to be a pretty light sleeper, and he often has trouble falling asleep when he is stressed or anxious. However, when he is with you, he is able to relax and feel more at ease and tends to sleep more soundly. He may also be a bit of a snuggler in bed, often wrapping his arms around you or pulling you close to his chest as he sleeps.

#benjicot blackwood #benjicot x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood x you #benjicot blackwood x y/n #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd x you

62 notes · View notes

entitled-fangirl · 7 months ago

Text

I'm gonna write the Benjicot/Davos fic next but I'm not as deep into the Blackwood lore as others.

Which character should I write it as?

It entails the Battle of the Burning Mill if context helps.

I'd love opinions and feedback

#benjicot x reader #benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader #davos blackwood #davos blackwood x reader

6 notes · View notes

urthsux · 8 months ago

Text

I'm going to eat all my friends

#my hero academia #Lankybox #benjixscarlett #benjicot x reader #Bugbo ship art

4 notes · View notes

drmaddict · 8 months ago

Text

The Mermaid of Tully

Summary: Benjicot's wife is truly a fish in water.

Wordcount: 421

People jested when he was little and was promised to the Tully girl, that he would one day marry a mermaid.

Benjicot Blackwood had just rolled his eyes and sayed that girls were disgusting.

But he had liked her. They played together and she wasn't disgusted by frogs or worms. She was actually quite interested in these little creatures.

But most of all, she could sneak away. No matter how many guards were set, she found a way. Out of the castle and into the river, where she would swim. Ever since she was a child, noone could get her out of the water. And today, when they were both grown up and married, it was still the same. No matter the weather, she went swimming. Every day.

Benjicot, who had lost his disgust for girls, loved his wife more than anything else. Their friendship had grown over the years and today they were probably the most harmonious couple, that most people knew. Which surprised most people because of Benji's nickname.

Benji was still in the land of dreams, when he was rudely torn from it. He instinctively spat out the much wetter air and turned away. He heard a laugh, as he wiped his wet face from under the covers.

"You little minx.", he grumbled in amusement.

His wife gave him a teasing look.

Her wet hair, which she had wrung out on him, was still in her hand. He shook his head with a grin.

"It's snowing (y/n).", he realised.

"And?", she asked.

He closed his eyes. "Most people would catch their death, if they went swimming in the river in weather like this."

She took off her wet clothes, as she looked at him with a grin. "But I'm the mermaid of Tully."

He smiled. "And I'm really starting to believe it. How can you never get sick doing that?"

She just shrugged, wrapped herself back into her bed clothes and put her hair up roughly.

He looked at her relaxed. He opened his arms expectantly to welcome her into them. She slipped back under the covers and slid towards him.

"By the holy mother! Woman!" he immediately groaned, pulling his thighs away from her icy feet.

She just laughed and curled up slightly. Benjicot immediately grabbed the pair of knitted stockings that lay under his pillow for just such moments and pressed them roughly into her hands.

"You're not normal.", he stated simply.

"You love me.", she simply replied.

He grinned. "I love you.", he agreed.

#benjicot blackwood #benjicot x reader #benjicot x you #hotd fanfic #hotd #benjicot blackwood x reader #fluff #benjicot fluff

453 notes · View notes

v3nomly · 9 months ago

Text

my secret talent is writing about fictional men’s cocks in detail.

give me a character and i’ll write a drabble for them!

#davos blackwood x reader #benjicot x reader #cregan x reader #jacerys x reader #aemond x reader #aegon ii x reader #gwayne hightower x reader #aventurine x reader #blade x reader #jing yuan x reader #childe x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #hotd x reader #genshin x reader #honkai star rail x reader #˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ ven screams

227 notes · View notes

gardenofhearts · 9 months ago

Text

Summer loving

Pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Tully!reader

Synopsis: It seems that the boy you knew ten summers ago has turned into a man

Wordcount: 2.9k

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, pure fluff.

Author's note: A little Benji fic sparked by the summer heat. Little disclaimer that this is my first time writing for Benjicot so he will not be perfect, I tried my best and I hope you can sense that. If you have any remarks, don't hesitatie to share them, but please remember to be kind. I'm a sensitive little soul ❤️

English is not my first language, apologies for any mistakes.

Happy reading <3

‎⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡Masterlist♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

*:･ﾟ✧Let me know what you think✧*:･ﾟ

The summer of your ten and eight nameday was a sweltering one, sun beaming relentlessly in the sky, nary a cloud in sight allowing the sun to have free reign. It was simply torturous.

Your dress spun of summer wool clung to your skin, your body covered in a thin layer of glossy sweat, making you seem aglow. No matter how many times you fanned yourself with your makeshift fan of paper it had no lasting effect, for as soon as you stopped to regain strength, the heat came back with vengeance.

This summer the Gods were surely intent on killing you muttered as you sat in your family’s carriage, windows open yet they offered little reprieve.

Unlike the Targaryens who were blessed with the dragon bonds, and the ability to traverse through the air, you were earthbound to a hobbling, suffocating carriage.

Landscapes passed you by in a soft blur, the colour green dominating your vision. Your brothers sat in front of you in the vehicle, their tunic partly undone.and although they were better in the heat than you were, they were not invincible.

Their cheeks had turned rosy from heat and their curls were dark and stuck to their forehead. They were most excited for this journey, as it was a visit to Raventree Hall, ancestral home of their close friend Benjicot Blackwood.

You, on the other hand, did not share in their excitement, for you there would not be a merry reunion of old friendship. You were sent there with the sole purpose of securing a marriage alliance.

For as a Tully, it was your duty to marry well and it was equally your duty to strengthen your family’s ties. Your father and grandsire desired you to wed the young Blackwood heir to ensure you would do both. In their eyes there was much to be gained from such an alliance, for one the Blackwoods possessed a large army, with many skilled warriors. Additionally, they ruled over extensive domains with fertile ground.

If all went well, the Blackwoods would be tied to the Tully’s for a few generations and peace would prevail in the Riverlands. It was heavy burden to bare, yet you bore it well. The only upside was that you had known the Blackwood boy in your youth and he had not seemed too terrible of a husband then. You could only pray he had grown up just as well as people rumoured.

Ten summers ago you had been here once before, a young girl unburdened by duty, you remember playing in the mud with the boys. You remember climbing trees and ripping your dress, much to the anger and frustration of your mother.

It had been a summer spent watching your brothers try to beat their new friend in combat and failing miserably.

They had gotten close quite a few times, yet Benjicot Blackwood remained superior, however at age eight the clanging of swords had frightened you. No matter how often you heard it. The sharp sound hurting your still young ears. During one particular duel between your other brother, Oscar and Benjicot, you had even cried.

Hot, heavy tears of fear and anxiety had rolled down your cheeks and into your sleeves as you tried to keep them abay. The pair had quickly stopped their little match, and Oscar rushed to comfort you, turning from knight into dutiful older brother.

The Blackwood heir had looked perplexed at the scene, not expecting your brother to forfeit by prioritising you. In that moment he had seemed odd to you, even mean, for how he stood there. Not even the slightest inquiry into your wellbeing, but he was soon forgotten as Oscar guided you to a small flower patch.

His young hands were rough from sword fighting, calluses forming where there used to be soft baby skin, despite the hardness, he still managed to pluck the flowers and weave them gently into a flower crown. He told you a story of valiant knights as he did so, distracting you from tears.

At dinner later that evening you had worn the crown proudly, a bright grin on your face as you were seated. Your mother was partly frustrated by the lack of decorum but could not resist the loveliness, you were only young for so long she had whispered to your lord father.

Your father had less of a stringent nature to him, had a temper like that of a river, a true Tully. He was in possession of a calm disposition yet had a force within him that could destroy much. Your brothers were much like him you observed, same Tully hair, same Tully manners.

You, on the other hand, were much more like your mother. An uncanny resemblance your Septa had once said, yet she had also remarked you to be much wilder than her, “a rumbustious little girl,” she often called you.

Seated in a chair too tall for your feet to reach the ground, you were shocked when the young Blackwood boy entered the great hall with his hair a mess and a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.

Some flowers had lost the majority of their petals, others had been bent and lost their uprightness, others were simply wilted yet you remembered it as the most beautiful bouquet you had ever seen. He had walked towards you, the flower arrangement held tightly in his young hands.

Once he reached where you were seated he held out the bouquet and practically shoved them into your face. “For you my lady,” he said, smiling a proud smile and you noticed he was missing one of front teeth.

You were admittedly a bit stupefied to receive such a gift so suddenly but accepted it with glee, you had always had a particular fondness for flowers. You laid the flowers in front of you and reached for your flower crown.

Gently you placed it on the black curls of Benjicot Blackwood, whose smile widened at your action, “thank you,” you said and brought the flowers back into your lap.

That night was the first night rumours of an engagement swept through the Riverlands.

Now you were here once again, sitting in that very same Great Hall, once again waiting for dinner. This time, however, you had no flower crown perched upon your head.

The Tully travelling party had arrived later in the day than expected, leaving little time for you all to wander around the castle before you were rushed into your seats.

“A guest must never go without food,” your interim host, Alysanne Blackwood had declared. Your brothers had been slightly disappointed not to be received by their childhood compatriot, yet their disappointment was soon subdued when they learned he had simply gone out to hunt. Alysanne assured them that he would be there to greet them at the welcoming feast.

It was not long after that Benjicot Blackwood made his entrance. You remembered him as a shy boy, with a gap in his front teeth from where a baby tooth had fallen out, and soft black curls.

Even though he was good with a sword, he had never been good with words.

In the short weeks you had spent at Raventree Hall, he rarely spoke directly to you and those rare times he did, he found it hard to look you in the eyes.

Now, at age twenty, it seemed his boyish shyness had gone and in its place stood a strong, confident man, lord of Raventree Hall. Your breathing increased as you continued to observe him, he had grown large, perhaps larger than Kermit, which you knew would irk him greatly considering he was older than the young Blackwood lord.

Benjicot Blackwood was surely to draw the attention of many ladies high- and lowborn, the notion of which sparked a small bout of jealousy to cross over your mind. The seeds of jealousy could not blossom however for as he entered further into the Great Hall you noticed what he held in his hands.

A bouquet of wildflowers.

You bit your lip to try in vain to stop a smile from spreading. Perhaps it was a tad conceited to imagine that bouquet to be meant for you, there had been nary any contact between the two of you.

Your respective duties busying you and decorum frowned on correspondence between a man and woman who shared neither blood or marital bond. You knew that your brothers had exchanged ravens with him throughout the years, yet knew not much of what they contained.

You assumed that it contained mention of new fighting techniques they learned, and perhaps complaints of their lessons from the Maester.

Whatever the contents might have been, you weren’t too sure if you wanted to know. You stopped your musing as you watched Benjicot walk towards you, getting closer and closer.

Before long you had hurried out from your chair, in order to curtsy before him as propriety demanded. Your Speta would have been proud, and your mother even proude,r.

Benjicot laughed as he saw you, “There is no need for such a thing amongst old friends my lady,” came his warm voice, you nodded and smiled as you met his gaze. “How good it is to see you Lady Tully,” he extended the bouquet towards you, much gentler than when he did it at age ten, “a small gift to welcome you to Raventree Hall.”

You smiled even brighter as you took the flowers into your hands, bringing them close to your face and inhaling the flowers' sweet scent. The bouquet was large, yet had seemed quite small in his hands, now that it was in your possession it could not fit in one hand alone.

You looked back up, feeling the heat of a blush creep up your cheeks. “Thank you my lord,” you said in a tone so soft, you heard your brothers giggle behind you.

He looked slightly abashed as he took in your adult form, gone were the scraped up knees and torn up dresses, your hair so messy it took your maids a great deal of effort to detangle it.

Now before him, however, stood a woman grown. A woman with a soft smile, perfectly done up hair and who was wearing a dress that perfectly complimented her eyes.

He could feel his heartbeat speed up as he committed her to his memory, she would not leave his mind any day soon, perhaps not ever.

He cleared his throat, “ I recalled that you had a fondness for flowers when you were younger,” he scratched the back of his head, causing his hair to tangle even more, “I’m pleased to see that you are still as fond.” You smiled at him, noticing a blush much like yours dusting his cheeks, “Indeed I am my lord."

A week passed by swiftly, the bouquet Benjicot had given you had been placed into a beautiful pot on your nightstand, they were there when you closed your eyes and when you opened them. You cared not that they had begun to wilt, you could not bear to part from them.

They were a daily reminder of Benji, as he so sheepishly asked you to call him that night of the feast. He had started to consume your every waking moment, and even in sleep he managed to haunt you.

During the day he would accompany you on walks through Raventree Hall and its surrounding terrain, he would sit next to you at dinner, converse with you through bites of lamb and sips of wine.

Your brothers had complained nearly the whole week of how often Benjicot’s attention had been on you, and how they have seemingly been abandoned by their old friend. You paid them no heed, content to spend every moment of your time with the raven haired boy.

It was a cooler summer day when you once again ventured into the gardens accompanied by Benji, his hands softly grazing against yours with every step you took. It took a great deal of strength for you not to grasp his hand and intertwine it with yours, to end this torture.

Yet it was not you who took the first step, his hand tentatively reached over to yours and held it in a weak grasp. You looked at him with wide eyes, and you were met with a bashful smile, “I hope this is alright,” he said as he tightened his grasp, “your hand seemed lonely.”

At that you giggled, for it had to be one of the silliest things you had ever heard, “it is quite alright Benji,” you looked to the side as you continued, “my hand was indeed feeling lonely.”

Now it was his turn to let out a soft laugh. The two of you ventured deeper, down a soft brown gravel path, surrounded by colourful flowers of various heights. It was like walking through an oasis of colours, a vision only the best painters could bring to life.

“Do you like them?” the man next to you asked, and you cocked your head in slight confusion, “the flowers, I mean. Do you like them?” You looked at him and nodded, “I like them a great deal.” An immense smile covered his face, he looked radiant like this. “I am glad, I had them planted for you.”

At that you stopped, your face the very definition of shocked. “You did what?” you asked, thinking him ridiculous for saying that. His unoccupied hand, went to scratch the back of his head, something you had noticed him doing often whenever he felt nervous or shy.

“Are you serious Benji?” You stepped closer to him, as you whispered, not wishing to draw attention from the others. He smiled at you in a way that would be the death of you, “Yes I am, I asked the gardeners to plant them after you were here ten summers ago”

You took a deep breath and looked around at the sea of colour. All this wonder and beauty for you? You could have never imagined, not even in your boldest of dreams.

“Are you not happy?” He asked, a slight furrow forming in his eyebrows, worry clouding in his eyes and his smile disappearing. “No, no,” you shook your head, “I'm incredibly happy”

You looked to him with a fond smile as an idea sprung forward in your mind. You brought his hand intertwined with yours close to you and gave the back of his a soft kiss. An action that would be considered incredibly forward, the very definition of improper, yet you pressed all those thoughts away to the back of your mind.

“Thank you Benji,” you let his hand fall back to the space between you, “I love them.” His eyes were wide, pupils blown and eyebrows raised, even his mouth stood open slightly, shock evident to all who would behold him.

You thanked The Seven that it seemed that only you were able to do so. Soon however, the shock faded, a mischievous smile crossing his face instead. He released your hand, which made you furrow your brows, yet your brows did not remain that way for long.

Large hands encircled your waist, and with one strong tug you were chest to chest with him.He looked at you, foreheads almost touching, smiling the softest smile you had ever seen.

You could see the freckles dusting his skin, and you could even press your lips into his. Your chests rose and fell in tandem, the purest sense of tranquillity falling over you.

He looked into your eyes with unbridled affection, it almost overwhelmed you too much to continue looking into them.

“Will you marry me?” he whispered, the words floating between you both. You knew, you knew before he even asked.

“Yes,” you whispered back, not hesitating for a moment. He smiled, and let his forehead touch against yours, eyes closed and posture at east. The scent of wildflowers filled your nose as he did.

That night, for the second time, rumours of an engagement swept through the Riverlands.

#house of the dragon #benjicot x reader #benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood fanfic #benji x reader #benji blackwood #benji blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood x you #benji x you #benjicot x you #benji blackwood x you #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd x you

390 notes · View notes

cherryheairt · 8 months ago

Text

Spent my morning before work rereading a fic instead of writing (oppsie) and I seriously recommend it to anyone who hasn't read it yet. Its on ao3, called Bitter Rivals, Burning Hearts by HelenaHandbasket80.

It's an original fem!mc who is absolutely amazing in terms of growth. The story is so fresh and well made it's crazy. Love interest is Benjicot/Davos, and he's extremely fleshed out and three dimensional. Love it sm

#benjicot x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #davos blackwood #davos x reader #davos blackwood x reader

18 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 4 months ago

Text

Today on the last day the Seven days of ficsmas : The second request featuring a Fire and Blood character, this time featuring Benjicot Blackwood.

#whimsy's seven days of ficsmas #benjicot blackwood #benjicot x reader #benjicot smut

2 notes · View notes

aemondapologistfrfr · 6 months ago

Text

Your Throne

benji blackwood x strong!fem!reader

Summary: You’ve been married to Benji for the past decade and have been residing in Raventree Hall awaiting your ascension. You and your mother tire of the constant conflict between the Brackens and Blackwoods. These tensions cause unrest between you and Benji and he’s willing to do what he must to make peace in the Riverlands.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mentions of fighting, political messiness, marital problems - but gets resolved, oral(f), p in v

Authors Note: request from @chainsawsangel, i’m SO sorry i made this super angsty in the beginning also that i didn’t make him super amazing and dreamy at first buut this man on his knees? folded

Word Count: 3.4k

ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Daughter-

I have been sent ravens upon ravens of the ever rising tensions between the Blackwoods and the Brackens. I’m sure the Red Keep could rival Raventree Hall if this keeps up. If the crown must intervene, if I must come to the Riverlands, you will not find it to be a pleasant visit. If you require my help all you have to do is ask.

I love you. It would make me happy if the five of you visited — after you’ve settled this feud.

-Rhaenyra

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

I push the note away from me and lean back in my chair. I don’t know how she expects me to settle this hatred that’s spread over generations. I don’t want her to have to come out here and I don’t want to put so much pressure on Benji. He hasn’t necessarily told his men to stop the fighting but he doesn’t outright condone it. I know it’s going to have to start with me sitting down and having a serious discussion with him. We’ve both avoided the topic of the ongoing feud that seems to have no end in sight but we can’t do that anymore.

“What does it say?” Benji holds the note between his fingers. “I wish she wouldn’t always write to you in High Valyrian.” he pouts.

“It’s a language you could learn. A trait that befits a King Consort.” I purse my lips at him. “If this fell into the wrong hands..” I shake my head flaring my nostrils.

“The wrong hands?” he chuckles. “We’re no longer at war. The realm is in peace.” I push my hands to the table at his words and rise.

“You could’ve fooled me with all of the fighting that goes on with the Brackens.” I throw my hands into the air. “If we can’t even keep this house in line how can we be seen to keep a realm in line? My mother has threatened to come out and deal with it herself if we can not.” my temper keeps rising and along with my voice as I pace across the empty council chambers.

“It is not my fault those Bracken beasts act the way they do.” his voice low as he glares at me.

“What of the Blackwoods? They’re your men, are they not?” I turn to him exasperated. “Do you wish for me to order them around? Order you around? Must I do everything for you Benjicot? I suppose that’s how it’s always been.” I scoff looking him over before walking to the doors to leave the conversation.

“You know I fucking hate-“ the doors slam open effectively cutting him off.

“Princess,” my guard pants. “There’s been an incident involving Maelor.” my heart races.

“Where is he? Is he okay?” I sprint down the hall with my guard and he leads me to the maesters. Benji is a step behind me as we enter shutting the door. Our eldest son is having his cheek stitched up and while another maester cleans up his scratched knuckles. “What happened?” I look around the room waiting for an answer.

“From what I gathered a fight with a Bracken boy.” I fume, turning my head to Maelor who winces.

“How does the other kid look?” Benji kneels down with a smirk.

“Benji-“ I’m cut off by his guard bursting it. Gods, what could it possibly be now?

“My Lord,” he looks around for Benji, who rises from Maelors side. “Lord Bracken is at the front gates. He doesn’t seem very happy.” the guard looks at me and cowers under my glare.

“I’m going to lose my fucking mind.” I mutter. “Maelor, stay here. We will discuss this later.” I then turn to Benji and roll my eyes at him. “Let’s go.” I grab his arm and pull him out of the room.

“What are you suggesting we do? Since you are so engaged in politics.” Benji drawls as we start towards the main doors of the Keep.

“And you are?” I hiss. “You infuriate me.” I huff and push out the doors and make my way across the yard.

“Likewise, wife.” he grabs my hand and pulls me back to match his relaxed pace as we approach. “I don’t care if you’re angry with me. Don’t show it in front of him.” he says through clenched teeth as we approach the gates. I glare at him and look forward and soften my face. The gates start to open and we’re greeted with a red faced Lord Bracken.

“Princess,” he gruff’s out, nodding his head. “Our sons have gotten into a fight leaving them both injured. What is to be done about this? My son is being stitched up by our maesters as we speak.” his voice rises and I can feel Benji's temper explode next to me.

“As is my son. I was hoping we would be able to sit down and discuss what can be done to-“ Lord Bracken cuts me off.

“What can be done?” Benji steps forward and I raise my hand stopping him. “My son has been scarred. You think a discussion will fix that?” he laughs.

“Were you there to witness this fight?” I tilt my head.

“No, my boy-“

“You stand before me, heir to the throne,” I squint my eyes at him. “And accuse my son, my heir,” I scoff, shaking my head. “Accuse the heir of hurting your son. Yet you did not witness the act?” I turn to look at Benji in disbelief and he looks at me as if I’m mad. “Is this correct, Lord Bracken? Shall I see if the crown can intervene and help us settle this dispute or shall we try and find common ground alone?” I hum studying him.

“Princess, I-“ Lord Bracken scrunches his brows and looks at Benji lost. “Do you have nothing to say for your beast of a son?” Benji steps forward again and I halt him once more.

“I would choose the discussion with her over the crown. My wife is more willing to listen.” Benji looks blankly at his rival.

“I will not enter your hall alone.” he raises his chin defiantly.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” I hum and call my guard over. “Fetch us three chairs please.” he hurries back and sets out the chairs for us and leaves. I take a seat and they follow.

“What’s done is done. Blood has been spilled on both sides. For generations. For decades. When will enough be enough? I’ve lived here for years now. Raised my children here. I call the Riverlands my home. What can we do to end this feud once and for all? Name your price.” I search his face as he takes in my words.

“I wish for my second son to be knighted and on the Queen's Guard.” he continues to think.

“He’s but eight.” Benji raises an eyebrow.

“When she rules.” he nods his head at me.

“I want my daughter to be your daughter's Lady in Waiting when you move to Kings Landing. Let her marry a nice, rich Lord, be content.” his wants shock me. I never would’ve thought that we would want for his children.

“Consider those things done. We can confirm and settle boundary lines. Set up monthly meetings. Allow communication to actually flow between our two houses. I wish to see these lands content and settled.” I nod at Lord Bracken who looks between the both of us. We continue the meeting and push ideas back and forth. A time is settled for us to have our first meeting and everything finally seems to be falling into place.

ᓚᘏᗢ

I groan in relief as our chamber doors shut behind us. The moon has been high in the sky for some hours now but we’ve been too busy arguing in the council chambers with his men over the upcoming meetings with the Brackens. I tug at the strings on my dress and breathe out deeply as the fabric loosens. Benji grips my arm and spins me around.

“What?” I glare up at him.

“You just gave that Bracken pig whatever he asked for.” he looks down at me with dark eyes.

“He didn’t ask for much. You’re acting as if I gave him my hand.” I roll my eyes at him and try to push him out of my way.

“And if he asked for your hand?” I can’t help the half laugh that tumbles from my lips.

“Gods, I might’ve said yes. At least he came over here to try and settle something. Actually being a man-“

“Choose your next words carefully.” his eyes darken as his grip tightens.

“This feud needs to end or this marriage does. I am to rule Benjicot.” I rip my arm out of his grip. “For the past decade you’ve allowed this fight to wage and now it’s weighing me down.” I shake my head at a loss.

“This marriage is weighing you down?” he looks at me wounded, nodding his head.

“No, this continuous battle with the Brackens. I’m tired of it. I’m done raising my kids in this environment. Our son is permanently scarred. Our daughter is scared to go out past the gates to pick flowers.” my emotions rise and I feel tears of anger prick at my eyes. “Fucking flowers, Benji. My sweet girl can’t even pick flowers. If this feud doesn’t end by the end of the month I’m taking the kids and moving back to Kings Landing. Alone.” I feel the tears slip down my cheeks and I storm into the bathing chambers slamming the door.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

The meetings over the past fortnight have been long and exhausting. We’ve been meeting almost everyday to discuss potential ways to keep the peace between the two houses. Listening to this table of men bark at each other has been driving me fucking mad. Benji has been tense and when he’s not yelling in the council chambers he’s beating his sword into a straw dummy in the training yard.

Lord Bracken has been bringing his children along to the meetings and they have been able to get to know our children. They get along so handsomely it makes me sad they weren’t able to interact before this. Our daughters even take their guards out past the gates to go flower picking and it makes my heart melt when they show me flowers pouring out of their dress pockets.

I’ve sent ravens to my mother and we’ve been in contact as much as possible. She thanked me profusely for getting tensions under control and told me to take my time but to please visit when we can. She still offers me her support and to come and show her strength if needed. I assure her it’s under control and things are truly beginning to settle. I send off one last raven to her and tell her we’re hosting our last meeting before our peace officially begins on the morrow. I sigh with a smile and begin to make my way back to our chambers. I push open the doors and stop in my tracks. I shut the door and look at Benji once more.

“I don’t want you to leave me.” Benji is on his knees in the center of our chambers. “I’ll do anything, my Queen.” he keeps his focus on the floor as I come to stand in front of him.

“Look at me, Benji.” I hum and his head snaps up to me. I cup his cheek and he leans into me.

“Please don’t leave me.” he looks up to me and I’ve never seen him act this way. “We have our last meeting tomorrow. Everything’s done. We’ve made peace. Please stay with me.” he grabs my hand and places quick kisses on it.

“I’ll never leave you.” I brush his hair back with my other hand. He pulls me closer and hugs my legs as I continue to brush back his hair.

“I need to have you. It’s been so long.” he mumbles into my skirts and my body warms at his words. “Please,” he whines, pushing up my skirt. I gasp as his head disappears beneath my dress and I feel his lips on my thighs.

“Benji,” I pant, not having anything to steady myself on. He pulls my small clothes down and taps my ankles when he wants me to step out of them. I cry out when his tongue slides through my center. His hands grip my waist as he practically sits me on his mouth and I moan loudly as he starts to lap against me. “Yes, Benji,” I gasp, gripping my skirts. My legs tremble and his hands move down to them to help steady me. I rock against his face and he moans, moving his tongue faster. He swirls around my bud that leaves me gasping above him. I cry as my pleasure slams through me and I almost topple over.

“Come, my Queen.” he comes out from beneath my skirts and takes me to the bed. He strips off both of our clothes before he pulls me up the bed and gets me to place my legs on either side of his face. “Let me be your throne.” he looks up at me desperately pulling me down onto his mouth.

“Fuck yes, Benji,” I whine grinding against his mouth. His tongue pushes into my core and I whimper above him. He wraps his hands around my hips as he starts to slam his tongue into me. “I’m- Benji,” my stomach tightens as his nose rubs against my bud. I grind harshly against his face and he groans into me as I fall apart against him. I go to move and his fingers dig into me.

“Not done.” his hair tickles my thighs as he shakes his head. His lips encase my bud and I shutter above him. My fingers dig into his hair and grind his face up into my wetness. He moans into me and I almost come undone at the vibrations. As his tongue moves quicker my pleasure washes through me and I go taught above him. His tongue lashes against me and I shake in his arms before he starts to help me settle onto the bed.

“I’m sorry.” he hovers above me and I pull him down into a kiss. I cling against him as he slowly grinds into me. He slides into me and I wrap my arms and legs around him.

“I’m sorry I was mean and threatened to leave.” I bury my fingers in his hair.

“I should’ve been better. I will be better.” he murmurs. into my neck. “Please don’t leave me.” his voice cracks.

“I can’t leave you Benji. I love you too much.” his hips snap into mine at my words. Our lips find each other again and we press closer together. All it takes is a couple hushed words of love and adoration and we’re both coming undone and holding each other.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Visiting Kings Landing

As our carriage pulls in through the Keep gates I smile watching our kids press their faces against the windows. Benji smiles at me from across the small space and I look at him in relief as it finally comes to a stop. My mother and siblings are waiting for us as we start to make our way out. My children run up to my mother and she scoops the two youngest up while my eldest holds onto my brother. We start to shuffle into the Keep and my mother allows us to settle into our chambers before we have supper.

Our children run off with their cousins while we start to unpack in my old chambers. I look around the freshly cleaned solar and it’s as if nothing has changed. Benji brings our bags to the couch and begins to help me hang up gowns and put the rest of the clothes away. I poke my head out and ask my guard to have some tea brought up for us. In moments a servant is walking through my doors and preparing us tea. She whisks another in to light the hearth and they turn to us and ask if we should need anything else. When they leave my mother enters and she ushers us over to the chairs.

“I wanted to thank you both, profusely, for getting the feud under control. I know that it was generational but it has been time for it to end for some time now. When you rule I want for your son to inherit peace as well. You know as well as I what it’s like to take over and be at war.” she looks at both of us with a soft smile.

“I know, mother. We’ve been meaning to deal with it. I’m sorry.” I fold my hands and look at her.

“I know, I know. I just won’t live forever, sweet girl-“

“I hate when you speak like this. You’re still so young. You’ll rule for much longer.” I scrunch my brows and shake my head.

“We never know what the Gods have planned for us.” she hums looking at us. “I will let you both relax.” she gets up and lets herself out of my chambers. I slump further back into the chair and let my eyes shut. Everything is finally settling down and falling into place. Not that it hasn’t throughout the years but ending this feud was the last thing I needed to do to really set us and our children up. I turn my head to the side and peek open an eye to look at Benji.

“How are you, my beautiful wife?” he hums brushing my hair back.

“Tired, happy, content, feelings along that line.” I offer him a smile and he leans over and places a soft kiss on my lips.

“I love you so much. I’ll continue to do better for you. I’ll be the King Consort you need me to be.” he hums.

“You’ve been amazing over the past moon. You’ve done so well in meetings. Your ideas and council are sound. You’ve really pulled yourself together.” I nod at him.

“It was either that or you were leaving me.” he frowns.

“I’m sorry for saying that.” my words hushed.

“I’m not. You got me to finally pull my head out of my ass. To be the man you need me to be.” his words are laced with heavy promises and emotions.

“I love you and I think-“

“Father, father,” our children burst into the chambers and I thank the Gods we were just talking. Benji stands up and kneels down to their level.

“Yes, my little cherubs?” he coos scooping them all into a hug.

“We want you to take us to the gardens. Vaela wants to pick flowers,” Maelor pouts. “But I want to go to the training yard.” he whines.

“And what of you?” I hum pulling my middle child, Aelon, into my arms and I kneel next to Benji.

“I want to go to the library.” he mumbles and Maelor scoffs.

“Of course you do.” he sticks his tongue out at him.

“Hey hey, we will all get along.” I scrunch my brows. “We have more than enough to do everything and more.” I hum.

“Your mother is right.” Benji hums looking over to me. “We can each have a turn doing what we would like.” We all rise from the floor and make our way through the Keep. We spend the next couple of hours in the gardens as Vaela picks flowers and hands them to me to make a small bouquet. Our boys run around picking flowers as well and I smile watching Maelor delicately pick flowers and offer them to Vaela before sprinting down the stone path to find more.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌

i had zero intentions of making this messy and emo 😔

taglist ✍️

#benji blackwood #benjicot blackwood #benji x reader #benjicot x reader #fancast benjicot #fancast bloody ben #benji x reader smut #benjicot x reader smut #benjicot blackwood smut #benjicot blackwood x reader #x reader smut #x reader #x reader fic #hotd fanfic #hotd smut

199 notes · View notes

ddreamywitch · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter Six - Wasteland, Baby!

knight!benjicot blackwood x princess!reader

word count: 6.6k

warnings: mentions of violence, arranged marriage

song: Wasteland, Baby! - Hozier

a/n: she juicyyy

“Rather small, isn’t it?”

Benji snorts next to you, but you don’t find it humorous.

The castle is small. Not even remotely comparable to what you are used to.

Which you would not mind, if it didn’t showcase so blatantly how little your father cared about where he had sent you off to.

Not remotely deserving of your status.

You clutch the reins and nudge Fury forward, breaking from your cluster of company until you were the one leading them up to the gates.

You don’t exactly do it to spite anyone. In fact, you’re not even sure if this is wrong. Traditionally your suitors would have to travel to you and not the other way around, but you figure being the first face seen would perhaps assert some kind of dominance that you so clearly lack otherwise.

You try not to think of the fact that Benji had shared a bed with you last night.

Not in a promiscuous fashion, at all, but because you were embarrassingly overwhelmed with the way your life was moving forward at the moment.

Now you won’t really look at him again, and it pains you a little bit, but you had to at least somewhat have your head in the right place when meeting your future husband.

The sun is shining today. Perhaps it’s a good sign.

Somebody yells something, an introduction of some sort, trumpets sound out and the gate creaks open.

It whirls up grey dust that stains the shiny black of your dress.

Marion had snuck it in for you, you were certain, nobody else would have approved a mourning gown to meet your Lord Husband.

Sitting on your horse like this, you melt into one, colourwise. It makes you look taller, stronger, powerful.

You trot forward, across the small bridge and into the court of the castle.

Lord Cathcart has his arms flung open, a wide grin on his face. You can’t bring yourself to return the small.

“Ah, the princess of the realm in my humble abode,” he greets you and finally as though saying your title reminded him, he bows.

Briefly, not appropriately low enough.

You nod at him, unwilling to get off your horse just yet. “Lord Cathcart.”

He makes a discarding hand gesture. “Please, call me Erik.”

“Erik.”

He doesn’t look bad. Of course not, neither does his sister. They’re both bronze-haired beauties, not particularly the kind of beauty you cared for, but undeniably beautiful nonetheless.

“I hope your travels were safe,” he continues. It is a painfully uncomfortable ordeal.

You glance at the castle residents, all lined up behind him, none of them moving and all of them staring at you as though you were perhaps a particularly interesting cow.

Livestock is becoming increasingly relatable to you as time goes on.

You haven’t answered yet. “Yes. No disturbances.”

Erik stares at your dress but then decides he would not address it.

Fury trudges forward until she is face to face with him, and you want to feel bad for the way he flinches at her height.

“Well then,” he croaks out. Your eyes flit over to Benji, who unlike you, is not concealing his amusement at all. “I suppose you will want to get rest and settle down in your chambers.”

You nod. “Very much so, my lord.”

Somebody is whispering something, eyes filled with curiosity and confusion.

You can’t blame them, the picture that is commonly painted of you — soft, sweet, kind — doesn’t exactly align with the entrance you’ve just made.

It is quite foreign. To remain seated. To not do the polite thing. It isn’t as though you’re being rude or as though you’re obliged to appease these people. The only reason you’ve ever done it was to be nice and you really don’t have the energy to be nice today.

“Lord Cathcart, I should inform you that her Highness’s horse Fury is unfortunately stubborn. The princess prefers to bring her to the stables herself,” Benji says. The sentence is shaped like a cautious reminder but his voice has an edge to it. You wonder now, whether the edge is natural.

Lord Cathcart nods, eager, excited, like a dog who’s been shown a bone.

“Where To then?”

“Oh, of course!” There’s a strand of hair that bounces. Like a tail. Many dog similarities about the man. “My stable boy will lead the way.”

A young lad breaks from the row and bows to you before approaching.

“Ma’am,” he mumbles.

Ma’am?

You open your mouth to correct him, but a loud smacking sound interrupts you. Your mouth falls agape in horror. Lord Cathcart had struck the boy.

“It is ‘your highness’, you fool,” he yells. Then he turns to you, wide-grinned once more, as though he had painted an entirely new painting in the blink of an eye. “Apologies, we aren’t quite used to such important visits here.”

You want to vomit. “Ser Benjicot and I will go ahead. The rest of you may wait.” You slide off Fury, grab her by the reins. “Come on, sweetling.”

The boy mumbles his sorrows through welled-up tears as he scurries across the court toward the stables, you and your knight right behind.

Once you are out of sight, tucked away behind the oaken doors, you rest your hand on the boy’s shoulder and force him to face you.

He’s perhaps three and ten moons, by the looks of it. He looks a bit like Tristan did at his age, but rougher around the edges than a young prince would be.

“You may call me anything you want,” you tell the boy.

He looks up at you. “My apologies, my highness.”

Benji chokes a laugh. You send him a warning look.

“If you wish to call me so, you would have to say ‘your highness’,” you correct him. “But you mustn’t worry. If you wish, you can even call me by my name.”

The boy nods. “My apologies, again.”

He doesn’t look convinced. Matter of fact, he looks as though he’s waiting to find himself trapped somehow.

You retract your hand and tilt your head. “How often does Lord Cathcart get violent?”

His eyes widen. “I don’t- His father before him– I don’t know, ma– uh, your highness.”

When you look at Benji once more, as though he might have an explanation for this dilemma, he has a face like a knife ready to be swung.

“Well, if I am to wed him, then things will have to change around here.”

Still, he doesn’t believe you but he doesn’t seem the type to disagree with you either and so you simply guide Fury to her resting place for the next few weeks. Or moons or years.

She doesn’t seem all too pleased, a spoiled girl, used to palace stables and quality carrots reserved for her.

“Marvellous first impression,” Benji huffs at you.

“What, on my part?”

He’s close to you suddenly and you wish that you didn’t enjoy it as much as you do. He somehow smells intriguing. “Obviously on your part. What kind of man strikes a child?”

You don’t unsaddle your horse, it is not your duty to do so but you rest your head against her side and sigh deeply. “Lord,” you sigh out and if it weren’t for the deeply rooted feeling of nothingness you would have probably cried.

Benji rests a hand on your shoulder. He’s behind you, an arm’s length of distance and yet you suddenly are struck by the thought of how distant he actually is from you, how you had fallen asleep in his arms, likely even drooled on him in your sleep and yet he is still your knight. Nothing more, nothing less. Bound to you and not a friend. Or a lover.

“I shall rest,” you cough up. “I shall rest,” you cough up. You cannot face him and you wonder if you could ever again do so, knowing who you were set to marry and knowing what might have happened in another life. You wish you had some sort of consolation.

Like perhaps your betrothed might not be the kind of man to strike his servants, but you do not and so you wish to go to your chambers and stare at the ceiling for the next few hours..

When you emerge onto the court you do not bother to walk back to Lord Cathcart.

"I shall see to it that I get my rest now, my lord. There will be room to talk another time."

He is narrowing his eyes at you. Be that because he is suspicious of your behaviour or because he cannot see you well from where he is standing, but he hurries towards you on his slender limbs. "I will see you to your rooms, your highness. If you wish, we can have a bath drawn for you."

A bath was not a bad idea at all, you must smell of horse and sweat and uncomfortable humidity but for some reason you cannot fathom the thought of doing anything at all.

"No thank you. I will bathe before supper has come and passed, but for now, my bones are too tired."

He pushes out his bottom lip in an odd childish manner, as though your rejection had hurt him in some way. Such a peculiar man. "Follow me," he says. "We have prepared your room the best way possible."

You nod and then glance at your entourage, still standing around, looking morbidly out of place. Capital men, your young new maid, none of them of high status and yet they are engulfed in a blanket of regality by comparison to the courtier's of Lord Cathcart.

"Say, where will my people be staying? And my knight?"

Erik offers Benji a more than disapproving look. "Downstairs, where they are in the best position to protect you."

A huff escapes you, at his disregard of rules. "Erik," it drags across your tongue like the bitterest of poisons. "My knight is to wait outside my door until nightfall where he is replaced with a member of the King's guard. Must I remind you of protocol, so early on in our courtship?"

"I have guards of my own, and you will be my wife soon. You are no longer in need of anyone else."

By god, you would have jumped at a chance like this, to be rid of your guards, the most luxurious prison of all, just a few moons ago. But now, as you stand there, you suddenly feel as though protection at all times is much more important than you had previously thought.

"We are to be married, on that I agree, my lord, however, it is of the utmost importance that my dignity is not compromised beforehand. Therefore my guards will keep watch until God in heaven has blessed this arrangement."

You give him the most saccharine of smiles, so sweet it would make your teeth hurt. "I'm sure you understand."

He clears his throat and looks back and forth between Benji and you and then over at your father's men. Really, they are more Tristan's than the king's at this point. Loyal to you either way.

Young Lord Cathcart shakes his head as though he is trying to get rid of something and then he grins his idiotic grin. "Why of course, your highness. I suppose it is better to be safe than sorry."

"I am certain you will have no trouble accommodating the lot of us. It is a small castle but it shall do."

You speak the tongue of the snake now. Never in your life have you made comments like this. Never had you been one to participate in the ill-speaking of others.

You had listened to gossip, had grasped at the tiniest bits of information the loose tongue of any lady would give you and soaked it up to safely put away into a corner of your mind. Knowledge is power.

Never in your life had you returned the favour to those who would gossip. Not one secret had fallen from your lips, not the slightest of jabs at whether somebody was getting quite rounded around the belly, or that they had worn the same dress on one too many occasions.

It doesn't feel as good as you had imagined it to, to be a participant now. With how much people talk and talk and talk, you had figured it would be more fun being mean, but you cannot ignore the uneasy pit in your stomach.

Lord Cathcart leads you to your chambers,, Tamsyn, your new maid hot on your heels, Benji to your right, your left arm looped through that of your betrothed and it feels as if you're walking toward your execution.

Hours later, you find yourself bathed and dressed in the most god-forsaken gown you have ever put on your body.

You are dressed as a peacock.

And worse so, you are wearing an old dress of Lady Cathcart's. You know it because she had worn it to the very costume ball at which it had become blatantly obvious that sin was afoot between your father and her.

Tamsyn is working hard at your face, perhaps she is hoping to take away from the fact that there are humongous feathers attached to your back. You wonder how much the dress must have cost just for it to be so desperately ugly that you want to scratch your eyes out upon seeing your reflection in the mirror.

"Tamsyn?" You whisper.

She croaks out a yes. Poor thing, so far from home, you think to yourself.

"Have you ever heard anyone speak of Lord Cathcart?"

She pauses, cheeks cherub-red, powdered brush frozen in front of your face.

"What do you mean, princess?"

You shrug. "Just that young boy from earlier. Have you heard of such behaviour before we came here?"

Her expression is that of a trapped animal. "I do not know if what I hear is true, princess. People talk a lot at the capital."

So she had. You wonder who else had heard of these matters and had not spoken up. People in power. Not your maid, but rather so the other Lords, the Barons, Dukes, Viscounts. Who had known what was happening and had let it happen? Who had known where they were sending you and had let you go? Has your father known?

You can picture it. Your father, with his red face and his horrid slur, laying in the bed he had shared with your mother, Lady Cathcart there as they laugh about the mean joke they would impose on you. Oh what a joy to send your child away, your daughter who carries her mother's face, whose disdain for your actions you cannot escape. What fun, to have her marry so low, to have her be forgotten by history as an unimportant Lady married to a weak, little man.

"Princess, may I speak freely?" Tamsyn says, no whispers.

You look into her big brown eyes. "Always."

"Your father has made a mistake sending you away. The people of the city barely tolerate him these days. They starve while he feasts upon their animals. They like you. Perhaps even love you. Times are changing...," she trails off. "I fear if something is not done, the people might do it themselves."

A knock sounds through the room and you nearly jump out of your skin, haunted by her soft and tender voice and her harsh and haunting words.

"Your highness, Lord Cathcart, wishes to see you," Benji says. "Are you decent?"

"NO!" you exclaim, louder than need-be. "He will see me once I make my way downstairs."

You think you hear a bit of a commotion on the other side but it quickly dispels.

Carefully you take Tamsyn's hand. "Whatever do you mean?"

She swallows thickly. Her moment's courage is gone.

"It is not treason to warn me of things," you mumble. "I would not betray your trust."

She nods but she doesn't wish to speak further and you are concerned that if you push too hard now that she may never speak again.

Another knock. "What?" You yell out across the room, more than annoyed.

With much care the door is opened and Benji walks in backwards, for modesty's sake.

"I'm decent Ser Benjicot."

He turns around and you wish you could wipe that expression of amusement right off his face.

"What?" you repeat.

He tilts his head. "Just here to report that Lord Cathcart has urged you to hurry up, as he would like to have dinner before sundown. Apparently the lighting is marvellous during."

You take the powder from Tamsyn, any more and you might have looked like a jester, anyways. "Let us go then. If Lord Cathcart insists upon it then so be it."

As you get up you damn near fall over, dragged down by the weight of your dress. All the curses in the world, you mentally send to Lady Cathcart.

"Do not say anything," you threaten your knight who has to fight his laughter harder by the second.

To make matters worse, the Lord of the house had sent a tiara with equally oversized feathers attached to it for you to wear.

You do not pride yourself in being fantastically tasteful like your sister Cordelia but you know for certain that you never could have come up with an atrocity of this scale in a million years.

You loop your arm through Benji's, praying that you will not stumble down the stairs to your death. Or perhaps that might be a kind fate, rather than having to spend the remainder of your life attached to a spiteful gnome.

But then, who would Benji have to offer his arm to?

Surely somebody, you remind yourself. He is a renowned rebellious man. It would be a miracle had he never lain with a woman before.

It crosses your mind that you have no reason to be thinking about this and so you push these thoughts back.

The pair of you walk through weird and winding corridors, decorated with stuffed animals and you stare at them as they watch you pass them by. "Have you heard of any commotion back at the capital?" you whisper to your knight.

He tenses beneath your touch. "Why do you ask?"

"Just— No reason. But I was thinking of my friends." You cough. They are not your friends, rather than simply people who you've offered your service to. "And they seemed so tense when I last saw them."

You don't need to look at him to know he is raising his eyebrow. "And when was that?" He asks with a tone of great authority for somebody of his rank.

"Before you were here. You know of my sole attempt, Ser Benjicot."

He takes a sharp turn to the left and you nearly trip.

You had never been known to trip. It bothers you greatly, how swiftly things seemed to be changing at the moment.

Benji sighs. "Nobody is quite happy with how things have been going along in the kingdom. After the death of your mother and the removal of Ser Attenborough from the position of hand the smallfolk has been growing uneasy."

You glance over your shoulder. Is it dangerous to speak so freely in a foreign place? Likely. "Is there reason to fear?"

For my brother. My sister who is visiting. For Marion even. For all the people at court that aren't corrupted by their own wealth.

Benji doesn't answer for a moment. "It is not yours to worry over such matters."

Of course. You scoff but you cannot be offended in truth, for you know that he is right. What would you even do? You held no true power, all you could do is warn Tristan and even so, what would you warn him about? Everyone knows of the dire situation in the kingdom.

You take another turn and you are not sure you would be able to find your way through this castle by your lonesome, as topsy-turvy as it is.

Finally you reach the grand hall and the sight before you is chilling. There are no guests at all.

Erik is sitting at the head of the table, whispering to a priest.

Servants stand in row along the cobbled and dark walls, statues or perhaps living dolls.

A shudder runs down your spine.

"Lord Cathcart," your voice chimes through the long room, reverberating from its hollowness. You've never particularly enjoyed hearing your own voice so intensely.

His eyes shoot up and his teeth are bared. "Your highness! My, you look just marvellous. Peacock is certainly your colour."

If it is a joke you don't laugh. Your smile is meek and you make your way towards your seat to his right. The only other of the about twenty chairs that has a dinner set resting in front of this.

Benji pulls your chair out for you and you squish the thick layers of dress down beneath the table.

"You may be excused," Erik tells your knight.

Your eyebrows raise.

"Have we not discussed this earlier?"

Erik nods. "That is what the priest is here for. To protect your virtue."

Benji does not say anything at all, not an ounce of protest and you can already hear his footsteps retreating.

"What of intruders? Kidnappers? Enemies to the crown? My safety is just as important as my chastity," you plead, exasperated, desperate to not be left alone with these strange men.

But you are waved off as you so often are.

The door opens and closes and you have to watch the closest thing to a friend you have here leave.

The sting of betrayal surprises you.

Lord Cathcart is delighted. "We have guards at all doors princess, you need not worry. I will protect you."

He couldn't protect you from a small dog, you are certain, but what use is protest? Somehow you will have to find a way to tolerate him.

Your wine is poured and you take a gulp and are hit with an instant wave of regret. "What is this?"

"Our local wine, princess. Do you like it?"

You consider lying for a moment. "Do you perhaps have anything sweeter? Cider?"

He claps and one of the frozen servants scurries quickly. Your chalice is replaced with a new one and the cider is only a tiny bit better. By god, you had not been aware just how spoiled you are.

The priest lingers by the fireplace. An ugly man, undeniably. Small bird-like eyes and wormy, moist lips. He's watching you with the eyes of a predator.

"Now, Princess," your betrothed says. "I am quite sorry for these circumstances,."

Your food is plated. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I am well aware that you must have expected a better match. Maybe even a love match."

The meat is cold in the middle. "I tried to not delude myself into thinking I would marry for love's sake."

He gives something of a look of consideration. “Still. Had we at least had the chance to know one another before being thrust into the other’s arms.”

He is not being thrust into anybody’s arms, you think to yourself. A husband is not the wife’s prisoner, it is the other way around. You don’t disagree with him, just keep chewing your hopeless, bland food.

“I am aware of my sister’s wrongdoings, princess.”

His voice has lowered to a whisper now, as though he is afraid of the shame his sister might bring upon him. As though his housekeepers do not quiver before him.

“What wrongdoings? Meddling in politics which do not concern her? You must clarify, my lord,” you demand.

The priest stares at you, unwavering.

Erik is uncomfortable. “No. I cannot. I do not know what she did, but I assure you she must have done something for you to be here now.”

“Where are your parents? Are they not concerned with their daughter’s actions?”

“They have long left the kingdom, as you surely know, princess.” There is a piece of lettuce stuck between his teeth. “They have no care for their children.”

“Well, at least we seem to have one thing in common.” Your voice drips with resignation.

He beams at you like an excited dog. “Yes!”

A bit absurd to get quite so excited about such a sombre fact.

“Lord Cathcart,” you say. You have to say this now. “I do hope we can find a way to make our marriage tolerable. But I must warn you that I will try to fight it until I am dragged down the altar. Once we are wed, I shall be an honourable, dutiful wife.”

There is a film of something strange across his face, the sheen of light disgust or aversion.

“Princess, this is an agreed-upon arrangement.”

You shrug. You wish you weren’t so scared. You wish your knight were here with you. “I am still the king’s daughter. I outrank you.”

Your heart is trembling with the fierceness of your words. You can't remember another time where you had spoken so frank.

But you had tripped today. It is due time you adapt to the world.

The air feels sharp. "Princess, you are my betrothed. There is no way out."

His knuckle blanch from how hard he grips the table. "I am sorry for the ordeal. But I will be your Lord Husband, you are not free to run your mouth like this."

It flashes across your mind how Benji had respected you more after you had spoken your mind and how disgusted with you Erik seems.

"I will not disrespect you in any regard. But if you are yourself sorry, why would you still agree?"

You know the answer. Wealth. The glory of marrying an Apricate girl. Proximity to the rulers.

He doesn't speak these things. "I will work hard against your unhappiness. But to remove myself from this betrothal would be undignified."

Have you gone too far? Had you been too crass? You do not know these unfamiliar waters, you do not know how much is too much, you have always given too little.

"I am sorry, my Lord. I do not mean to offend. I am simply-"

"Tired," he cuts you off. He rests his hand against yours. You wish you could remove it.. "How could I make you rest easier?"

Your gaze catches that off one of the paintings behind him. "Why do you lay hands on your people?"

He squeezes your hand and it feels like a threat but he catches himself. "For discipline."

"That is a foolish reason. Not even the king hurts his servants."

His beauty is so painfully tainted by the face he is making. "But this is the most efficient way. How else would they learn?"

The priest is still watching. Would a true man of god let this happen under his watch?

"Is it not god that taught us to treat each other with kindness?"

It feels as though you are speaking to a child and he truly doesn't understand what you are trying to imply.

But he gives in.

"If this is what you wish for then fine. I shall follow your command," he says.

You nod and take another sip. If you drink fast enough you might be able to interpret this as a win.

And perhaps while you are at it, you might unburden yourself by the plague that your knight is.

Comparison is the thief of joy and the way you cannot help but see how much of a better man Benji is, in comparison to the wimpy Lord Cathcart.

You never should have let him comfort you. It is like a gate in your mind has been opened and cannot be closed. A flood of thoughts, all repeating the same face over and over again.

"Princess, I must inform you of something and I am doubtful that it will make you happy."

Your stomach twists. "What is it?" Another big sip.

"Well, once we are wed—" He pauses. Which we will be, is what he is trying to suppress but the warning look in his eyes says it for him anyways. "You will be assigned a new sworn protector."

You pray to god that he doesn't see the frown you immediately pull into your chalice. "Pardon?"

"You will be assigned a new protector. My family is close with House Bracken and has been for many years. I cannot have that unhinged young lad running around my castle."

Unhinged is a strong choice of word, coming from him. "He swore an oath. How would I dispose of him?"

"In the same way your last knight was disposed of. It is not a dishonourable thing, but merely a precaution. I do not wish to run into trouble."

"My knight was picked in very specific conditions. He is part of the peace treaty in the Riverlands. If he returns, trouble will surely be worse."

It is quite funny how suddenly the tides have changed. Just about one moon, or two ago you were beyond upset with Ser Benjicot Blackwood, and had prayed for a way to rid yourself of him. And now, you were fairly certain that if he left, you would be the most lonely person in the world.

He isn't even your friend. You are not even sure he doesn't still partly despise you but with Marion gone and your siblings gone and your work (if one can call it that) taken from you, you had to call him a friend. Otherwise you might fall into a pit of deep despair.

Lord Cathcart had perhaps not considered the treaty. Or he hadn't considered that you might be aware of it. Either way he doesn't speak for a very long time and decides to aggressively cut his lamb up.

"You must know, it is a liability to have Bloody Ben running around my home. I can't imagine why your father would ever have him assigned to you in the first place, but I surely do not want this."

You disregard your food entirely. "Well, if you wish for it, I do not hold any power over who is sworn to me. But you hold no power either. If we were wed perhaps it might change, but even still. The Blackwood boy was chosen by the king and plays an essential role in keeping peace in this glorious kingdom. The choice is with him and his counsel."

And as you speak you wonder if they might execute him. Where else would they put him? Surely Lady Cathcart would find a way to have your father listen to her brother's request. And then what? He isn't allowed to return to the Riverlands, but how could they ensure that he wouldn't?

You must write to Tristan. Or perhaps Cordelia could offer him refuge in Arbormere. Without her husband''s knowledge.

It is becoming more noticeable by the second that this dress is not yours by the way parts of it dig into tender flesh.

Erik clears his throat.

And gets up.

You stare at him perplexed.

"Your highness, my princess, the realm's delight. I do not wish to sadden you." He grips your hand again, both of them this time. "But I cannot have you talking in this unwomanly manner. Politics do not concern you. Discipline does not concern you. How I handle things is not your concern. Speak disrespectfully again and I assure you, I can be much unfriendlier."

You swallow thickly before you rip your hands out of his. "I am still the princess. Do not dare threaten me ever again."

Tears of anger betray your coldness and you get up with enough force to send the table wobbling, wine stains the cloth spread.

"I bid you goodnight."

You turn to face the priest. "And you father."

He doesn't speak, still just quietly watching with bird eyes and nods.

Apparently luck is on your side after all, and the Lord of the house does not attempt to follow you.

You storm out of the room and do not slow down when Benji calls after you. He must have waited by the door. Has he heard your conversation?

"Do you even know where you are going?"

You ignore him, hectically climbing the stairs with your stupid, stupid gown.

Ser Corrigan nearly runs into you when you hurry around the corner but you ignore him too.

Since you have no idea where you are going you decide to continue climbing the stairs. You can hear Benji tell Ser Corrigan that he has not a single clue what has gotten into you.

You aren't even crying. You wish you were, you figure that would suit you more than an erratic outburst of anger. Maybe you are your father's daughter after all.

Finally Benji catches up to you and you are once more reminded of how restricted you are even by something as minute as the clothes you wear.

Forever the most privileged prisoner in the world.

"What on earth happened?" He asks, matching your speed as you keep going up and up and up.

"I cannot marry that man," you huff. This is surprisingly exhausting; your face feels like it's aglow from the heat.

"Did he do something?"

Did he? Not really. Can you even blame Erik for anything? He is doing what he has been taught his whole life, how he has seen women be treated by their husband's for forever. This is a tradition older than you or your mother or her mother before her. Generations of women who could do nothing but obey. Rage runs hot in your veins.,

"No," you say. "He did what was expected, I just figured I would—" Be successful in your rebellion. That if you had never spoken ill or not done what was expected that would mean it would be more effective once you do. But it wasn't. Not at all.

You can only place your hope with God now, and you have not done that in a very long time.

You reach the top of the stairs, the bell tower. Closer to the sky but not remotely a free bird.

With an exasperated sigh you lean against the wall, tilt your head to peek at the sun setting on the horizon, a fiery orange hue. The ridiculous feather tiara slips to the ground.

The dining room must be looking marvellous about now, it being faced west-way and all.

Benji also looks marvellous. Not nearly as out of breath as you, dressed in black leathers, his raven pin twinkling as his chest rises and falls.

"He wants to get rid of you," you tell him.

He nods. "That makes sense."

"How does that make any sense? You are here based on a contract, a deal, an entire peace treaty. He cannot just rid you of me."

He smiles halfheartedly. "Rid you of me? I thought it would be the other way around. That you'd be glad to be rid of me."

There is not an ounce of energy left in you to take such jests.

Benji is across from you. You are so high up, the tip of the tower. He feels too tall for the space. "I knew he was friends with the Bracken pack. I figured I'd run into some issues with that."

A strange sensation grows in your overwhelmed heart. "Why would you not tell me this?"

"You're so well-versed in gossip I thought you knew this."

You had known. But you had not realised that the bond between Bracken and Cathcart was strong enough to warrant such behaviour.

"He is like my father," you whisper. "But worse in some ways."

You consider it for a moment. "Better in others."

"So why are we up here? Are you planning to jump?"

You roll your eyes at him. "Idiot."

He nudges his boot against the bottom frills of your dress., and they leave a small splotch of brown. Somehow he is never fully clean. There are always specks of mud trailing him. You don't know how he manages it.

"Am I too not know love, ever?"

He nudges you again. "You are loved by so many. I'm quite certain that you are one of the most loved people in the world."

"It isn't tangible love. The smallfolk think they like me but they don't know me and soon they will have forgotten me in favour of my father's shortcomings. My siblings love me. Marion perhaps. Ser Rodrick once, but he hasn't written me any letters."

Benji sighs. "That is still more than what some people have in a lifetime."

There isn't a way to deny him because he is right. He has backed you into a corner with his words, but still he must be aware how none of that could make up for the marriage that was luring in your future. You do not even want to think of the consummation of it.

Silence remains as it so frequently does between the two of you.

He stretches his hand out toward you and you take it, not questioning why, as he pulls you forward, until your skirt wraps around both your legs.

With gentle hands he does the same, wraps around you until you are engulfed in his arms, his scent, his warmth.

Your head grows dizzy, as it rests against his shoulder.

"I am not familiar with the ways of the court," he whispers, his breath hot on the crown of your head. "But many noble women find a way to be with their husbands in a way that isn't too straining. Your sister seems content, doesn't she?"

"She wasn't always and she still is not. Her husband will not relent until he has an heir to take the throne. They get along fine but the bearing of children is laborious for her. My mother died when she had me."

His hand draws a circle on your back and you hope he never stops doing it.

"You're a witch. That won't happen to you."

You laugh but it is laced with venomous sarcasm. "I'm a terrible witch. I couldn't even say goodbye to my cauldron. Or my sick people."

He pulls away, yet just far enough for your noses to touch. "That was not your fault. And besides, you did try to leave the castle. You just weren't quite...tactical about it."

Your laugh dies in your throat when your eyes meet his. You're certain that nobody has ever quite looked at you like this. Least of all Benji.

That legendary young man, with a supposed undying thirst for blood. And while you had seen him angered, the way he is looking at you now makes it hard to imagine that he had ever been anything but tender.

The moment stretches out, up into the sky and across the two of you like the dome you are standing beneath.

In hindsight you won't be sure how it happens but something pulls the two of you together and your lips meet.

Your breath hitches, heart hammering the way Fury's hooves do when she gallops across a field and it is better than the rush of any wine you've ever had.

Your head is screaming at you to put a stop to it, but you cannot bring yourself to, when every fibre in your being is yearning for more, your hands in his hair. It is foreign and odd but in a fantastical way.

And in the end, it is him who pulls away.

"Oh," you breathe, chest rising unsteadily.

The grin on his face is prideful. "Mhm. Oh."

A twig snaps in the court, but it does not matter. His lips are on yours again.

#benjicot blackwood #hotd #benjicot blackwood x reader #davos blackwood #benjicot x reader #house of the dragon

86 notes · View notes