Pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x reader

Warnings: mentioning of battle, blood. Angsty

A/N: this is more of a chapter filler as im writing SMUT for the next chapter where they will have a wedding night whoopwhoop

Rhaenyra’s idea to have you married within only a couple of days after meeting Benjicot, didn’t quite go as planned. Simply a week after getting to know each other, the Greens had sent men out to the Riverlands to secure an alliance with House Bracken. This would ultimately lead to a battle to the death between the Blackwoods and Brackens.

A squabble between those two wasn’t something new, but this time it felt more serious. Perhaps because your betrothed was currently on his way to join his men in battle. You certainly had quite some feelings about this. In the week Benjicot spent at Dragon Stone, you got to know him a lot better. It had turned out he was surprisingly pleasant to be around—more so than you would like to admit.

He had told you all about the customs back home, which you would greatly appreciate considering you would be taking residence there once you were a married woman. He spoke of his family, and how they were more than happy to meet you. It sure felt like a heavy weight was lifted from your chest. Benjicot was more interested in you, though. Question after question, listening intently as you slowly let him in your world. You felt comfortable talking to him, and could greatly appreciate the way he would seem to be genuinely interested in whatever you had to say.

Your dragon, on the other hand, enjoyed his company even more. You had returned from patrol duty and had just made your landing, when you noticed Benjicot walking towards you. Daelleys watched cautiously as the stranger marched up to you, and you wondered how she would react to him. She was overly protective of you, meaning Benjicot was either insanely brave, or an absolute fool to approach you like this.

Ben tried to remain brave, but you could see his hand starting to shake lightly as Daelleys growled at the strange man. This didn’t stop Benjicot, not at all. He reached for the dragon's head, and just as you were about to let Daelleys know it was alright, you heard a string of familiar words that completely caught you off guard.

“Lykiri, Daelleys”

The language of your ancestors leaving Benjicot’s lips had sent a shiver down your spine. It definitely did something to your dragon as well, as she was now allowing him to come close enough to place his hand on her. You watched in amazement as she accepted him, letting him pet her. She closed her eyes and you took the opportunity to climb down and walk up to Benjicot.

“Who taught you Valyrian?”

With your head cocked slightly to the side, and an eyebrow raised in amusement, you couldn’t help but laugh softly as Benjicot started to panic lightly.

“What is it?" You mock him jokingly, “You walk up to a dragon that could devour you, but me asking you a question is what makes you nervous?”

“I am not nervous” Benjicot immediately defends himself, while straightening his back. The pride of this man was impressive, you had to give him that. “I asked your mother permission to speak to one of the teachers, which she kindly granted me.”

Of course she did.

“Why would you want to learn to speak Valyrian? I don’t think there’s many people in the Riverlands who would be in need of Valyrian lessons”

Benjicot laughed and shook his head in slight embarrassment. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he was getting somewhat flustered right now.

“Perhaps no one in the Riverlands,” he scratched his head nervously, causing you to chuckle loudly this time.

“Go on, Blackwood” You push his shoulder playfully, hoping to get an answer out of him already. “Spit it out already!”

“I wanted to learn Valyrian for our wedding ceremony.”

A heat rose to your cheeks after hearing his reasonings, and now it was your turn to become flustered. Learning Valyrian for your wedding? That would mean we would wed in a traditional Targaryen ceremony, something you didn’t expect.

“Are you sure about that? Our customs are quite different from your usual westerosi ones. It’s usually done between two Targaryen’s. We will not be bound together with a piece of cloth wrapped around our hands—we’ll be bound by blood.”

This only seemed to pique Benjicot’s interest even more.

“I know I do not share your heritage, and even though I do not share your blood, I am ready to be bound to you.”

It didn’t take you anymore convincing to plan the ceremony he spoke of. Your mother was honored as he laid the proposal before her, and was eager to get everything started. Even throughout all the struggles we were facing, or the struggles we still would have to face, Rhaenyra wanted this to be as perfect for you as she could possibly make it.

But now, as you were waiting for him day and night to return to Dragon Stone, with an anxious feeling coursing through your body, there was no denying you had bonded to him like a Targaryen to their dragon.

It had been way too long since he had left to fight the Brackens. You had asked your mother permission to fly to The Riverlands on dragonback, but she denied your request. Your mother did not want dragons to do more damage than those two houses would already do to each other.

Before you met him, you prayed that those stories about him weren’t true. You wanted them to be made up by wet nurses, to scare children into obeying their parents. But as time went on without hearing from him, you started praying for the opposite. Let him be as mad on the battlefield as everyone had said he was, if that meant getting him to return.

“Go and rest, sweet thing. We’ll simply have to wait and hope for the best.”

Your mother’s words kept circulating inside your head for the next three weeks, while you were eating, while you were trying to sleep. Even right now, while you were sitting in your chambers, staring mindlessly into the mirror in front of you— while your handmaiden brushed your hair.

What if he died in battle and no one was left to tell the tale? Or what if he was taken hostage by the enemies and couldn’t send for help because everyone would assume he was already dead? What if he survived the battle, but decided to stay home because joining our houses caused too much damage?

A million questions, yet not a single answer to any of them. You didn’t even know what bothered you more—the thought of something happening to him or the fact that you even cared this much about him in the first place. Perhaps if you didn’t engage with him so much, you would’ve spared yourself feeling like this. Maybe you shouldn’t have accepted this betrothal in the first pl-

Your thinking was cut short as the door of your chambers was slammed open by Jacaerys, who was out of breath from running up all of the stairs. Your heart was beating out of your chest, your eyes wide as you stared at him.

“A letter has arrived from the Riverlands, it was sent for you.”

You shot up from your chair, which ultimately fell down as the two of you ran down to the corridor. After running for what seemed like ages, you reached the war table, where a closed scroll was waiting to be opened.

“Go on,” Rhaenyra was already waiting for you, along with your father and some other lords who wanted to know about what went down in the Riverlands. “Open it.”

With shaking hands, you loosened the piece of string wrapped around the paper. You rolled it out completely before reading the words written inside.

“We have defeated the Brackens and secured the Riverlands in the name of our rightful queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

Multiple sighs of relief filled the room everyone was standing in, including one of your own. He was alive and well.

“That’s fantastic news,” your mother smiled, nodding her head. “Was that all?”

Your gaze turned to the piece of blood stained paper one more, reading the final words written by Benjicot Blackwood.

“And to the Princess, I apologize for taking too long to return to you. I am sailing to Dragonstone as I am writing this message. Do prepare a feast, as the next time I leave, I shall leave a married man.”

Time to get married, after all.

@aleemendoza2425-blog

@theboringbaker

@rhaenyrathecruelwithteats

@snixx2088

@helpyourself-9

@hobis-hope95

@littleshadow12

@h-0-error

@nicksolemnlyswears

@shifter-101

@lenasvoid

@crownofdecitreadingrespectfully

@yeolsbubbles

@asteria33

@malfoycassimalfoy

@mangosmootji

@epicy0n

@whiteoakoak

@abigfanofgameofthrones

@haythemsychopathicgirlfriend

Pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x reader

Warnings: mentioning of battle, blood. Angsty

A/N: this is more of a chapter filler as im writing SMUT for the next chapter where they will have a wedding night whoopwhoop

Rhaenyra’s idea to have you married within only a couple of days after meeting Benjicot, didn’t quite go as planned. Simply a week after getting to know each other, the Greens had sent men out to the Riverlands to secure an alliance with House Bracken. This would ultimately lead to a battle to the death between the Blackwoods and Brackens.

A squabble between those two wasn’t something new, but this time it felt more serious. Perhaps because your betrothed was currently on his way to join his men in battle. You certainly had quite some feelings about this. In the week Benjicot spent at Dragon Stone, you got to know him a lot better. It had turned out he was surprisingly pleasant to be around—more so than you would like to admit.

He had told you all about the customs back home, which you would greatly appreciate considering you would be taking residence there once you were a married woman. He spoke of his family, and how they were more than happy to meet you. It sure felt like a heavy weight was lifted from your chest. Benjicot was more interested in you, though. Question after question, listening intently as you slowly let him in your world. You felt comfortable talking to him, and could greatly appreciate the way he would seem to be genuinely interested in whatever you had to say.

Your dragon, on the other hand, enjoyed his company even more. You had returned from patrol duty and had just made your landing, when you noticed Benjicot walking towards you. Daelleys watched cautiously as the stranger marched up to you, and you wondered how she would react to him. She was overly protective of you, meaning Benjicot was either insanely brave, or an absolute fool to approach you like this.

Ben tried to remain brave, but you could see his hand starting to shake lightly as Daelleys growled at the strange man. This didn’t stop Benjicot, not at all. He reached for the dragon's head, and just as you were about to let Daelleys know it was alright, you heard a string of familiar words that completely caught you off guard.

“Lykiri, Daelleys”

The language of your ancestors leaving Benjicot’s lips had sent a shiver down your spine. It definitely did something to your dragon as well, as she was now allowing him to come close enough to place his hand on her. You watched in amazement as she accepted him, letting him pet her. She closed her eyes and you took the opportunity to climb down and walk up to Benjicot.

“Who taught you Valyrian?”

With your head cocked slightly to the side, and an eyebrow raised in amusement, you couldn’t help but laugh softly as Benjicot started to panic lightly.

“What is it?" You mock him jokingly, “You walk up to a dragon that could devour you, but me asking you a question is what makes you nervous?”

“I am not nervous” Benjicot immediately defends himself, while straightening his back. The pride of this man was impressive, you had to give him that. “I asked your mother permission to speak to one of the teachers, which she kindly granted me.”

Of course she did.

“Why would you want to learn to speak Valyrian? I don’t think there’s many people in the Riverlands who would be in need of Valyrian lessons”

Benjicot laughed and shook his head in slight embarrassment. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he was getting somewhat flustered right now.

“Perhaps no one in the Riverlands,” he scratched his head nervously, causing you to chuckle loudly this time.

“Go on, Blackwood” You push his shoulder playfully, hoping to get an answer out of him already. “Spit it out already!”

“I wanted to learn Valyrian for our wedding ceremony.”

A heat rose to your cheeks after hearing his reasonings, and now it was your turn to become flustered. Learning Valyrian for your wedding? That would mean we would wed in a traditional Targaryen ceremony, something you didn’t expect.

“Are you sure about that? Our customs are quite different from your usual westerosi ones. It’s usually done between two Targaryen’s. We will not be bound together with a piece of cloth wrapped around our hands—we’ll be bound by blood.”

This only seemed to pique Benjicot’s interest even more.

“I know I do not share your heritage, and even though I do not share your blood, I am ready to be bound to you.”

It didn’t take you anymore convincing to plan the ceremony he spoke of. Your mother was honored as he laid the proposal before her, and was eager to get everything started. Even throughout all the struggles we were facing, or the struggles we still would have to face, Rhaenyra wanted this to be as perfect for you as she could possibly make it.

But now, as you were waiting for him day and night to return to Dragon Stone, with an anxious feeling coursing through your body, there was no denying you had bonded to him like a Targaryen to their dragon.

It had been way too long since he had left to fight the Brackens. You had asked your mother permission to fly to The Riverlands on dragonback, but she denied your request. Your mother did not want dragons to do more damage than those two houses would already do to each other.

Before you met him, you prayed that those stories about him weren’t true. You wanted them to be made up by wet nurses, to scare children into obeying their parents. But as time went on without hearing from him, you started praying for the opposite. Let him be as mad on the battlefield as everyone had said he was, if that meant getting him to return.

“Go and rest, sweet thing. We’ll simply have to wait and hope for the best.”

Your mother’s words kept circulating inside your head for the next three weeks, while you were eating, while you were trying to sleep. Even right now, while you were sitting in your chambers, staring mindlessly into the mirror in front of you— while your handmaiden brushed your hair.

What if he died in battle and no one was left to tell the tale? Or what if he was taken hostage by the enemies and couldn’t send for help because everyone would assume he was already dead? What if he survived the battle, but decided to stay home because joining our houses caused too much damage?

A million questions, yet not a single answer to any of them. You didn’t even know what bothered you more—the thought of something happening to him or the fact that you even cared this much about him in the first place. Perhaps if you didn’t engage with him so much, you would’ve spared yourself feeling like this. Maybe you shouldn’t have accepted this betrothal in the first pl-

Your thinking was cut short as the door of your chambers was slammed open by Jacaerys, who was out of breath from running up all of the stairs. Your heart was beating out of your chest, your eyes wide as you stared at him.

“A letter has arrived from the Riverlands, it was sent for you.”

You shot up from your chair, which ultimately fell down as the two of you ran down to the corridor. After running for what seemed like ages, you reached the war table, where a closed scroll was waiting to be opened.

“Go on,” Rhaenyra was already waiting for you, along with your father and some other lords who wanted to know about what went down in the Riverlands. “Open it.”

With shaking hands, you loosened the piece of string wrapped around the paper. You rolled it out completely before reading the words written inside.

“We have defeated the Brackens and secured the Riverlands in the name of our rightful queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

Multiple sighs of relief filled the room everyone was standing in, including one of your own. He was alive and well.

“That’s fantastic news,” your mother smiled, nodding her head. “Was that all?”

Your gaze turned to the piece of blood stained paper one more, reading the final words written by Benjicot Blackwood.

“And to the Princess, I apologize for taking too long to return to you. I am sailing to Dragonstone as I am writing this message. Do prepare a feast, as the next time I leave, I shall leave a married man.”

Time to get married, after all.

@aleemendoza2425-blog

@theboringbaker

@rhaenyrathecruelwithteats

@snixx2088

@helpyourself-9

@hobis-hope95

@littleshadow12

@h-0-error

@nicksolemnlyswears

@shifter-101

@lenasvoid

@crownofdecitreadingrespectfully

@yeolsbubbles

@asteria33

@malfoycassimalfoy

@mangosmootji

@epicy0n

@whiteoakoak

@abigfanofgameofthrones

@haythemsychopathicgirlfriend