Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Some days, you could recall your first year in the Riverlands. How bittersweet it felt; the hope, the dread. How you met your two boys. The snippets sown together haphazardly in your mind.

Dreadful, was the only way you could describe the place when you first arrived. Damp and sunless. It felt so unwelcoming, and the land in turn seemed to show it did not want you there; a hard rain appeared seemingly right as you arrived. It vexed you. 

“The land does not want for us, father.” You broke the silence of your cart, looking out of the window.

“Land has no conscience. Don’t put power it does not possess into it.” He said in an uninterested tone. He didn’t even look up from his book.

“Then why does it show us such hostility?” 

As if predicted, the wheel of your cart fell into a deep puddle. You had to stop and exit, your pretty shoes mushed into the soft ground and the edges of your orange dress now clung mud at the edges of your skirt. Your father tried his best to shake it off, but it was of little use. The mud was persistent. You pushed him away.

“I’m not meant to be here. How does this not give proof?” 

“Merely coincidence.”

“No, it is not.” You huffed. “Could you not have picked a lord in a better climate? I will not thrive here. It’s impossible.”

“Impossible? No.” He took your hands then. “A viper thrives anywhere, it’s strong and durable; it can survive sand, mud, stone… except maybe snow. I think it wouldn’t do well in snow.”

You laughed at that.

When you finally reached your destination, it was much past any decent time to be met kindly on your arrival. Lord Bracken held back his anger as your father rushed apologies to him, trying his best to explain away your unfortunate series of events. You felt as if he was holding back just for you. If you left your father to his own, the man would chew him up and spit him out.

You hoped his nephew wasn’t the same as him. You had hoped to marry a decent, maybe even kind lord. The best you could hope for as a fifth born daughter to a third born son.

Though It seemed more likely you had come all this way to marry an absent lord, seeing as he couldn’t even be there to greet you at your arrival. Lord Bracken explained away his absence due to injuries he had obtained earlier in the day and just needed to rest. He promised he’d be around in the morrow. But you wished to not be. You pleaded with your father once you were brought to your room, begged to be taken back to Sunspear that night. You reiterated how the land felt, and now the people seemed just as friendly. He wouldn’t have any of it and left you to yourself. You climbed at the window silently, impulsively.

Just like most choices made on impulse, you had no real plan once your feet hit the ground. You had no layout of this mysterious land, only guesses and suspicions. You found out how to get past the walls, at least. But you only got as far as a mil before you were forced to stop. You remember kicking over that arbitrary pile of stones there, feeling frustrated and alone.

But you weren’t alone that night. That was when he came into your life. That pretty boy with a crooked nose, who only saw red at the sight of orange. 

Those reds softened to pinks when he turned you around and got a look at your tanned face and bright brown eyes. 

That was the first night he took you. Or maybe you took him? It was hard to tell once you both were in the grass, his hips pinned by your strong thighs as you rode his cock like your life depended on it. You can’t even remember how or why you got into this position with him. Was it that he caught you in a vulnerable moment? Was it an act of rebellion? A stroke of luck?

Or maybe it was simply that he called you beautiful.

You didn’t actually get his name until after, when you were cleaning his spent off your thigh in the river. Benjicot, he had told you shyly. It was a name that stayed on your mind.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Benjicot Blackwood.”

“The pleasure was mine, Princess.”

He couldn’t look you in the eye, and you laughed at that. He was so pretty with his red face. It took everything you had not to kiss him then.

You decided to stay for him.

Chapter Text

Aeron Bracken was a sweet boy with a sweet face. When you met him in the gardens of his home, he stammered at the sight of you. He was so nervous, shaking even. You giggled at that with your own blush forming on your face.

“I-I brought you something.” He finally got out, bringing a rose from behind his back. “I asked your father of your favorite flower, but I couldn't find them anywhere. I picked you the prettiest flower I could find instead.”

You held the rose delicately in your hand, a soft touch along the pedals with the pad of your finger. It was such a deep, deep red. You thought of the pretty boy.

You pulled your eyes away from it, up to his face to thank him when you caught the light bruise on his cheek bone. He accepted the touch when you set your hand upon his cheek, even seemed to welcome it with how he closed his eyes… Or maybe he was just still nervous.

“What happened, my lord?”

His eyes opened again at that, a held back fury behind them. It was then you found out about the two families' feud. He described Benjicot as this savage, a bully. He couldn’t say anything nice about him or his family in fact. That entire family was vermin to him as far as he could care. He said you were lucky you’d never have to meet him. 

You felt lucky to have met him.

When you returned to the mil again that night, Benjicot was kicking rocks. He was speaking to himself, insulting himself for coming. That a princess wouldn’t have time for his silliness.

“I actually have quite a bit of time for you, my lord.” You spoke out to him. He almost tripped over a rock at your interruption. He quickly steadied himself before speaking.

“Princess,” He started, nervous and pink. “I think I need to apologize; what happened last night…”

“Was it inappropriate?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it shouldn’t happen again, should it?”

He nodded. A silence fell between you two in the emptiness of the field.

And then you were on your knees and his back was against the outside of the mil. He had kindly laid his cloak down for you so as to not dirty your knees. It was the least he could, he thought. His cock was buried to the hilt into your warm mouth. He can’t remember the last time he felt this amazing. He could barely breathe every time he hit the back of your throat. 

When your eyes shot up at him, he swore he’d never seen a more pretty sight than the way your puffy red lips look around him. His hands came up to your face and his thumbs ran over your cheek bones. It was your turn to pinken at the sweet touch, treating you as delicate as a flower. Then his hands slipped up your face and tangled themselves in your hair. His hips jerked and your eyes rolled back. 

Maybe there was a prettier sight.

Chapter Text

Aeron brought you candies the next morning. They tasted of your favorite fruit and made you think of home. The juice from them felt nice against your sore throat.

“Thank you.” You had told him and gave him a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re too kind to me, my lord.”

“Aeron.” He corrected, seemingly more confident than he was the day before. “And that’s nonsense. The future Lady Bracken only deserves the best.”

Lady Bracken, you repeated in your head. That is what you came here for. You were here to be with Aeron, not your nightly rendezvous with what he swore was his enemy. Your shameful acts with him. Would you still marry you if he knew the way Benjicot had touched you already? The way he made you feel? 

He’d run you out, wouldn’t he?

“Princess?” Benjicot’s breathy voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Are you alright?”

You looked down to where you both were connected in his lap, not even realizing you had stopped. Had you really been that out of it? You just repositioned yourself as you grabbed his face, kissing his soft puffy lips. 

“I just needed to catch my breath.” You lied against his lips before you continued grinding down your hips on him. He grabbed hold of your hips then, tightly enough to make you stop. 

“You need a break then.” He said, kissing along your chest as he laid you on your back. He kissed further and further down until his head was between on your thighs. One single lick against the swollen bud had you shaking and your thighs squeezing his head. That squeeze only spurred him on, the way your large thighs enveloped his head, and he stayed down there like a man starved. Every lick and kiss made you fuzzy in the head. Oh, you couldn’t breathe. Tears streamed down your cheeks.

You came hard on his face holding back a scream. He would’ve kept going, would have loved to, but he had to release his own spend on your stomach. He was touching himself as he was licking you, and you felt you could cum again at the thought of that.

He laid to the side of you and brought you close into his warmth. Laying there with him gave a strange sense of home. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, enjoying the silence between you two as you both caught your breath. You could stay there forever, you thought.

“Princess?” He broke the silence, and you let out a ‘hm’ in response to it. “What are you doing all the way up here?”

The question had plagued his mind since he met you. He’d never heard of the Martells going past King’s Landing, much less all the way in the Riverlands.

Looking back on the moment, you wished he had asked even a moment later. When you were thinking straight and would have thought of a lie.

“I’m getting married.” You muttered into his neck. He froze.

“To whom?”

“Aeron Bracken.”

Being pushed off brought you back to your senses once more, ripped away from the warmth of his body. It was only then you realized what you had done. You tried to call for him to fix things but he was already dressed and out the door of the mil.

Chapter Text

A week had passed since that night in the mil, since you had seen Benjicot, and your heart ached for him horribly. You tried your best to distract yourself with Aeron. He noticed your melancholy, but simply explained it away as home sickness. He brought you sweet gifts everyday and took you out on horseback to make you feel better. Everything he’d do would only serve to distract you for a moment, eventually returning to your pretty boy once again.

But he wasn’t your pretty boy anymore.

“I’d like to ask you something.”

The question came suddenly as you walked down the trail to the mil with him. You both stopped, and he looked at you. You’d never seen him so red before, worse than the day you had met him. Worried, you brought your hands up to feel his head to see if he was sick. His own hands shot up to grab your wrists.

“May I kiss you, princess?”

A shocked look came across your face. That question was expected eventually, though not so soon. You weren’t sure what to make of it. That look caused Aeron to cross a line and dropped your hands.

“I apologize for my boldness. I should have never—“

You interrupted him, a chaste kiss bought to his lips. A sweet smile formed across his sweet face. It made you happy. You almost forgot about your pretty boy again, only for a flash of red in the trees had caught your eye. 

When you retired to your room that night, you went straight to your bed to lay. Melancholy took over once again. You closed your eyes and held your pillow tightly, wanting to cry.

But then you heard a creek from behind you. You reached for the knife you stashed under your pillow.

You shot up with the knife in hand, putting it straight to your intruder’s neck. One hair’s breath and that knife would’ve cut through the skin. A chuckle came from him.

“Are you flirting with me?” Benjicot asked.

“I have a knife to your throat. I could have killed you.”

“That’s why I asked.”

“You’re an idiot.” You told him, dropping the knife and holding him close. His own awkward hands set upon your waist in return.

He made a bold move then. He kissed you, and you welcomed it. The kiss was deep, and you moved with him as he sunk his tongue on your mouth. For a moment you felt like you were in heaven, to have the boy kiss you again. To stay there was all you desired. Then the memory of him leaving came back, and you pushed him to arms length.

“Why are you here, Benji? I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

“I never said that.”

“No, you just left me.”

He slipped away from you, pacing around your room. He was looking for what to say next, or rather how to word it. It frustrated him, you could tell. And that finally got the better of him.

“Have you fucked him?” He asked, pointedly.

“No, why would you think—“ It hit you then; his pointed look, the mix of anger and sadness in his eyes. You laughed. 

“Are you jealous?”

“No.” He huffed.

“Then why ask?”

“It’s a fair assumption.”

“Enlighten me, Lord Blackwood.”

“You didn’t know my name.” He had caught you there. You fucked him for less. 

You slithered off your bed, light on your feet as you approached him. His breath caught and he reverted back to his shy state. He had to close his eyes when you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Then let your name be the only one I know.”

It was dangerous, letting him take you on your bed. Being too loud would kill him, you were sure of that. But it was hard to think straight when he was near, even harder when he was inside of you.

“Benji.” You gasped as he eased his hard cock into you. He started with a steady rhythm, lazily his finger against your clit as he did so. It felt nice, this ease. The way he treated you so softly. Then his fingers left your clit and came to cover your mouth. Before you could speak, his hips came down hard. You cried against his hand as he continued. 

In the haze you barely realized when had taken his hand away. You opened your mouth to question, but he stuffed a small cloth in there. You were sure what they were. Small clothes perhaps. But there wasn’t enough time to dwell once he flipped you onto your stomach. As if instinct you had lifted your hips up for him with your legs spread, and he was quick to resheath himself. 

Something about that position seemed so animalistic. You felt like a bitch in heat the way you drooled through the cloth in your mouth. It was hard to be blamed; he could hit every spot you wanted and some you didn’t even know you wanted with each hard thrust. And he held you so tightly, his finger pressed firmly on your hips and it was sure to leave small bruises. You didn’t care. You couldn’t find yourself caring about anything. Everything he did to you just heightened pleasure. 

His hips started to lose rhythm and his pants deepened. He was getting close, you knew. You wished desperately for him not to be. But the way he leaned down to kiss your neck had your cunt clenching tight around him. You swore he almost broke the headboard when his hand shot up to grab it before he came inside of you.

When you turned your head to look up at him, you could tell he felt bad for not pulling out. His worried look as he had looked down at your dripping cunt. You would’ve told him it was fine, that you would clean it, had he not pushed it back into you. Your eyes immediately rolled back. His fingers didn’t stop until he ripped an orgasm out of you.

“Benji.” You panted, struggling to get up. He only met you with silence as he looked down to his sticky fingers. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, his own mind a bit fuzzy from what happened. His mind went just about blank when you stuck his finger in your mouth, cleaning his fingers off thoroughly.

“I think I love you.” He spoke without thinking and had immediately gone red once he realized. You giggled and brought his close, your forehead against his.

“Maybe I do too.”

He left that night the happiest you’d ever seen him.

Chapter Text

Secrets have a way of catching up when one does not remain steadfast for its upkeep. Even a single bruise on the wrong part of your body can be a clear sign. You remember the sting in the pit of your stomach the night your father asked ‘who is it’. The quiet rage he kept quelled was almost admirable. He didn’t want to scare you away, but the way his knuckles paled when he gripped the head of the chair in your room frightened you regardless. And the scene he created earlier in the dining hall earlier announcing you had an ailment to the family before dragging you off only worsened that fear. All you could do was keep denying and keep your head down.

“You can’t just hide—“ he sighed, then moved around to sit on the chair. “I wasn’t supposed to marry your mother, you know.”

That piqued your interest enough to look up at him.

“She was betrothed to my older brother,”

“Is that why uncle dislikes you?” You interrupted, but he ignored the question.

“When your grandsire brought her to Sunspear for my brother to court, I remember thinking she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen then. Even now, I believe.” He continued. “I spent just as much time with her. During the day she would be with him, and at night I would come to her room for… tea.”

When he stumbled over his words, not meaning to divulge that far, you just rolled your eyes. 

“I ruined their betrothal, and soured the relationship with my brother. But we have no real ill will towards each other. Just a bit of resentment.”

“That's an unfortunate outcome, father.”

“Do you understand why I am telling you this?”

Your blank stare was answer enough for him.

“I understand your situation; but my discourse was between brothers, not between feuding houses where every interaction ends in bloodshed.“

“How do you know it’s a Blackwood? It could be someone low born, or maybe a servant—.”

“I’ve seen the boy climb out your window at night, don't play me for a fool.” He said harshly, which shut you up. “Now I will ask once again; who is it?”

“Benjicot.” You said quietly. You saw the disappointment in his face.

“Bloody Ben?” His words came out in such disbelief, “Bloody fucking Ben?!”

“Father, please, he’s sweet—“

“Why would you—“

“And I love—“

“Stop.” He stood up at that. “You will not see him again.”

“Why? Why can’t I see him? What is so wrong with him?”

“I worked too hard to find someone kind for you; you will not ruin it for some blood crazed madman.”

He left you alone after that, not able to bear anything else you had to say on the matter. The thought of his disappointment hurt; but you knew if he met Benjicot maybe he’d see reason. That the boy wasn’t mad and was kind, treated you well. If he came tonight you could show him. You looked to the window, hoping to see his familiar black hair pop into view. It was about now he would come. Moments pass, not a sign of him. A dreadful thought came to mind that maybe he had come, just earlier in the night. Overheard your conversation with your father. Maybe he felt he was doing you a courtesy by leaving. Or maybe what your father said insulted him. All of it made your stomach twist in tight knots.

A knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts and you were quick to answer. Aeron stood there, a basket in hand to hold all the sweets he could carry from dessert. He told you he knew how much you loved sweets and couldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t bring you some as he laid them out on your tea table. Your mouth watered at the sight of them.

“This one is my favorite.” He said, holding one up to your mouth. It was a densely packed puff with a dark jam threatening to push out if held too hard. When you bit into it a rush of blackberry filled your mouth. You couldn’t help the little moan of delight that escaped you. 

“Thank you.” You told him, then reddened once you felt the jam at the corner of your mouth. Before you could even reach for your handkerchief, Aeron’s thumb had already wiped it away. He licked it off his finger. 

“I’m glad.” He sat down, taking hold of your hands and bringing you closer. “May I know what ailed you tonight, princess?”

“Just a case of… embarrassment.” You looked down and tumbled over your words. “I don’t favor the way your cousins look at me.”

“I’ll talk to them.” He lied, though he said it with enough confidence you almost believed him. He never could stand up to his cousins, only show off.

“I appreciate it.”

He kissed you then. He’d started to do it more casually now. 

A sound came from the window and you looked just as a mop of black came into view. Aeron started to follow your gaze and you panicked, quickly pulling him into another kiss.

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I am very tired now. I really do appreciate these sweets.”

“Uh, of course.” He said awkwardly. “Don’t leave them out. You’ll attract rats.”

As soon as you closed the doors behind you, you heard Benjicot snacking behind you. How’d he get in so quickly and quietly?

“For some cunts who can’t do anything right, they make great tarts.” He tried to give a smile, but you only returned a pout. “I’m sorry; my aunt wouldn’t let me leave until Oscar and I cleaned the training ground.”

“It’s fine, my love.” You leaned in for a kiss but he set a hand on your face to stop you.

“I saw you kiss the idiot lord. I can't kiss you now.” He laughed, stuffing his face with tarts again.

“That’s not fair!”

“What’s not fair, my princess?” He picked you up then and started for the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to kiss your pretty lips.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t because of Aeron.” You held his face, leaning in again. He moved away again.

“Has he kissed you down there too?” He asked, and you gasped when he dropped you on the bed. Then all you could do was giggle when he stuck his head under your skirts.

Chapter Text

Petty fights between petty boys never turn out well. Seeing your two boys interact for the first time was a disheartening sight. You barely recognized either with their new attitudes. Aeron became chauvinistic in his name, trying to show off to his cousins despite his shaking hands. Benjicot bared his teeth and looked ready to sink them into something. The stories that Aeron told you started to make more sense. Only a small taste of this ‘Bloody Ben’. You weren’t sure if you liked either side of these boys. Every second listening to these two argue was torture. Just the same threats over and over again, all over some arbitrary wall. This wasn’t their first fight over it, you could tell, nor would it be their last.  All there was to do was sit and try to focus on anything else; a flower near the river, a passing butterfly… but never the eyes that you could feel on you every so often. 

“Why do you keep looking at my betrothed?” Aeron asked, fury behind his words, once the two were almost nose to nose. The question made you tick and your eyes darted back to the boys.

“Trying to understand why she chooses to be with an entitled half-wit like you.”

An underlying jealousy seeped through his words in a way only you could understand; as in a way, it was meant for you. A quiet missive that neither of you could truly answer. Not yet, at least. Those nuances were deaf to Aeron as the statement served just to spur him on. His shaky hands could barely even touch Benji before he was on his back with a terrified look on his face.  The hands that were always so gentle on your body gripped that knife on his waist with such experience it scared even you. He almost pulled the thing out, but you were quicker. Your hands set on Benji’s chest to stop him. He put his hands on top of your’s and his face softened, the knife forgotten. Your breath hitched. For one dangerous moment, it was just you two breathing in each other’s air, close enough to lay your lips against his. You would have had it not been for the voice in your head stopping you.

Impetuous girl.  

You ripped yourself away from him, muttering a ‘stop’ before picking up Aeron to take him back home with the help of his two accompanying cousins. You gave Benjicot one last look while going up the hill, but he had already turned away with his boys. 

Benjicot told you later that his friends saw your interaction, however short it was, and they questioned him for days after. He never budged, just insisted he didn’t know you at all. You appreciated that. At least Aeron and his cousins didn’t notice the way you both looked at each other, and you thanked any god that would listen for it. With the cousins’ wandering eyes, you thought they would’ve kept on you even then. In truth, they disgust you. Frustrated you to no end.

“They look at me like I’m some prized fucking lamb, Benji.” You huffed. “All they can talk about is how they want to fuck me.”

“Sheep.” He corrected from where he sat at the edge of his bed.

“What?”

“Sheep get fucked.”

“Shut up!” You tackled him then, playing punching at his chest as he laughed. “I wish I had a friend here I could confide in.”

“We’re friends.” He grabbed your hands then.

“You think of us as friends?”

“Do you not come to me to complain and then we both speak ill of the shits across the way?”

Gossiping and speaking ill of others was one of your favorite pastimes with your friends in Sunspear. But none of those conversations ended the way it does with him.

“Well, I’m not sure friends usually have sex, Benji.”

“That just means we’re closer friends than most.” 

“You’re not as close with your Tully boys?” 

“Do you want me to be?”

You huffed at that and rolled your eyes. He was tiptoeing the line of making your laugh and getting on your nerves.

“Must you always be so unserious?”

“I like to hear your laugh, my princess.”

What a way with words he had. A pretty face and a pretty tongue to make you forget just how annoyed you were getting. Much like earlier, it was just you both existing in space with no adhere to the outside world now. At least this time you both were alone so you could kiss him with little to no issue, nor did you have a little voice in your head telling you that this was wrong. And the way he said ‘my princess’ just made you light headed. If only the both of you could stay like this without reality setting in. But that’s not an option, is it? An ache in your heart set in.

“Will we still be friends after the marriage?” You asked, and he tensed. That frightened you. 

Then his eyebrows furrowed, “I dare those cunts keep me away from you.” 

The ache in your heart grew at that response, because you knew you couldn’t give him what you truly wanted. Father’s requests and wants still rang through your head, dictating any real decision you could make with this boy. If the voice wasn’t so overbearing, maybe you would have told him what you wanted. How happy he had made you, and how you wished to be his. Instead there were only secrets, hypotheticals, and waiting for his next shitty joke in an attempt to distract you both.

“And what if they want Aeron to put a baby in me?”

“I’ll put one in first.” 

“Again, I don’t think friends put babies in each other.”

“You want me to get the Tully boys pregnant too?”

Oh, you could wring your hands around his neck.

“You annoy me, Blackwood.”

He couldn’t even think of another remark, the loud sound of tearing fabric filled the room. He was bare chested and quiet, must’ve lost his train of thought. Then he’d completely lost his voice as he felt you lick up his chest, navel to neck. His heart beat so harshly under your tongue. 

“Now you’re quiet?”

All he could muster was a nod, probably barely comprehending what you even said to him. You liked him this way; flushed and puddy under your touch. His skin was so hot to the touch as you kissed all the way back down to the strings of his pants. You bit down and pulled it loose, your nose tickled by the dark patch of hair there. He started to breathe harder when you pulled his pants just below his hips and gripped his length, just completely lost in you now. The warmth of your hand as it moved up and down caused soft, barely audible groans. That wasn’t good enough. That just wouldn’t do. 

The large groan that erupted from his mouth once you slid your soft lips over his tip could’ve been heard by any passers by. That was better, you thought. This was what you wanted. Just his pretty moans as you sucked at his tip, and then down his shaft. You were pushing his volume with every pump from your mouth with your tongue pushing heavily against the vein underneath. You could tell he was getting closer with how he twitched against your tongue. 

You removed yourself after a moment to look up at him, and he glanced down to meet your gaze. His eyes looked a bit glazed, but he could see you. Only see you, in fact. So you smiled at him, then flicked your tongue over his tip once more.

“You’re not my friend, Benji.” You whispered. “You’re just mine.”

A flash of white entered your vision, and then you felt something hit your face. Wet and thick; and it dripped down. You might’ve complained if it were the first time, but right then you just giggled. Benjicot wasn’t quite as pleased. Embarrassed more likely. His face was as red as his cloak when he picked up his tattered shirt to wipe your face, muttering apologies as he did so.

“Stop, Benji.” You said, grabbing his hand. “It’s alright.”

“No—“

“Are you embarrassed? You’ve done this before.”

“It’s not—“ He sighed, setting down the shirt and looking down. You could tell he was struggling with what to say, or rather if he could. “I am your’s, my princess.”

The tightening in your chest came back. You knew the rest of what he wanted to say but couldn’t. That even though he saw himself as your’s, you couldn’t really be his. In another life, maybe your father would have picked him instead. Seen the boy the way you see him. Then maybe your next words would’ve had more meaning than just a comfort.

“I love you; I believe I always will.” 

You kissed him and he accepted. Your comfort seemed to be sufficient, and you were grateful. He even smiled against your lips. It was a comfort to you as well. 

“Now,” you said, pushing him back onto his lap so you could climb atop. You could already feel he was forgetting his melancholy with the growing weight against your thigh. “I’m not done with you yet, Lord Blackwood.”