I'm glad you're here. I hope you stick around for a while.
Requests: currently open for shorter blurbs, oneshots, ramblings for Benjicot Blackwood/Davos Blackwood and Aeron Bracken (likely to change in the future, but they are my current inspiration and hyper fixation)
Upcoming:
I love you. It’s ruining my life. (Part VI) (Benjicot Blackwood x you)
Meet me in the Afterglow (Davos Blackwood x you)
Marked me like a bloodstain (modern!Davos Blackwood x you)
I only see daylight (Aeron Bracken x you)
Oneshots:
You can hear it in the silence. (Benjicot Blackwood x Tully!fem!reader)
Series:
I love you. It’s ruining my life. (Benjicot Blackwood x you)
Heyyy, will you post another chapter of “I love you, it’s ruining my life”? Hope you have a great dayyyyyy :)🤍
Hi lovely! Yes, I will be posting one final chapter to “I love you. It’s ruining my life.” I have been motivated to finish it since seeing the trailer for House of the Dragon season 3. Hope to have it out before the new season premieres!
pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)
warnings: 18+, canon typical violence, cursing, mentions of disordered eating
summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood are pushed to the edge but love conquers all.
word count: 6.2k
author note: *slowly peaks out from behind a curtain with a million apologies for not updating this story for over a year because life was really, really, really hard and writing felt impossible* Hello! I am alive and still writing this story. I’m not sure if this story still has any fans, but even if no one reads this, I want to finish this story to prove to myself that I can do it. Also, I know I promised smut in this chapter, but it just didn’t quite fit into the pacing of the story. But based on how this chapter ends, I think you all will be happy with the next one. So, all that being said, happy reading! There will be one or two more chapters after this one. And hopefully they won’t take me a year to write.
Other parts can be found here: Part I Part II Part III Part IV
Benjicot Blackwood was going to murder someone.
As he watched you being taken away, watched as your shoulders hunched and you struggled against Aeron, he saw red. His lady was being dragged away, forced against her will to go back to Stone Hedge where those godsdamn Brackens would do gods know what to her.
And there was nothing he could do to stop it. Nothing he could do to protect you.
At least not when he was being held down like this by his own men.
Huffing, Benjicot growled, “If you do not release me this instant, I am going to personally slit each one of your throats.”
House Blackwood’s captain of the guard snorted. “Sure you are, my lord.”
Just as Benjicot was about to spit out another curse, he felt a sharp smack to the back of his head. “What in the Seven Hells—”
Black Aly’s glare silenced the rest of Benjicot’s threat. “You are in no position to be making demands or threats right now, nephew.”
Benjicot strained against his captors, but to no avail. He was too distracted and heartbroken and—gods help him—afraid to concentrate on escaping their holds.
Fear was a foreign concept to Benjicot. For as long as he could remember, there was no room in his heart or head for fear. He loved a challenge, always itched for a fight. The thrill of battle was a song that called to him on a primal level. The fight was in his blood.
But now he had something—someone—who could bring him to his knees.
His lady. The most cunning, beautiful creature who had entranced him body and soul. His other half.
He could not look Aly in the eye.
Dropping his head, Benjicot felt the fight drain out him. The weight of the situation, the impossibility of everything, settled over him, leaving only a bone-deep exhaustion.
Benjicot’s men released him. He barely caught himself before he hit the ground. Stumbling to his feet, Benjicot watched the retreating Bracken host, but he could no longer see you. You were lost in a sea of red and gold.
He heard the Blackwood host begin to depart. Shouts and orders were called out. He was sure that his father was leading the charge, eager to put this spectacle behind him.
But Benjicot was not sure he was capable of moving from this spot.
He did not know how long he stood there. Minutes or hours could have passed. But Benjicot welcomed the silence. Welcomed the empty space of the grasslands in front of the mill. Inhaling deeply, Benjicot tilted his head back and gazed at the grey skies. A light breeze brought the smell of rain.
For a fleeting moment Benjicot thought of following you. Thought of tracking the host to Stone Hedge so that he could steal you away.
Shaking his head, Benjicot sighed and rolled the tension from his shoulders. That plan would never work. The Bracken guards would be on high alert for the next few days, waiting to see if Benjicot would seek retribution. His declaration of undying love ensured that your protection would be almost impenetrable.
Fuck. Benjicot cursed his own stupidity for showing such weakness before an enemy.
Not that Benjicot could really help it. There was no way that he could hide his feelings in your presence. His love and possessiveness were clear to anyone with eyes.
“Are you going to stand there forever?”
Benjicot tensed at the voice. He had not detected anyone’s presence behind him. Unnerved by how distracted he was, Benjicot turned to meet Aly’s gaze.
When Benjicot did not answer, Aly rolled her eyes and moved toward him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Aly did what few people in Westeros dared to do. She hugged him.
No matter that Benjicot had several inches on her, Aly pulled him into her arms and held him. Benjicot could not remember the last time Aly held him like this, but he knew that it had to have been years.
Benjicot suddenly felt like he was eight years old again, clinging to Aly like a lifeline after his mother passed. One of the few comforting presences in Raventree Hall who did not judge him for his anger and brutality, Aly had always accepted him. Had always seen him and looked him in the eye and had never been afraid.
Benjicot let Aly hold him. He felt her hands rubbing his back. She was humming a gentle tune. A sweet lullaby that had never failed to comfort him as a child. No words passed between them.
After a few moments, Benjicot pulled back and put space between them. Running a hand through his hair, Benjicot looked again toward Bracken land.
Clearly the gravel from his throat, he asked, “How did it go so wrong, Aly?”
Sighing, Aly crossed her arms. “You cannot possibly tell me that you expected it to go another way.”
Shaking his head, Benjicot finally turned around and started walking toward Raventree Hall. He did not have words for Aly. Did not have the energy to fight with her about this. Did not want to hear how he was a fool in love.
Keeping pace with him, Aly continued, “You’re a Blackwood, Benji. Unless commanded by Lord Tully or whomever sets the Iron Throne, Amos Bracken was never going to give you his blessing for marriage.”
Rounding on her, Benjicot could not keep his voice steady as he yelled, “You’re the one who told me we had a chance! You told me to be thankful I had my father’s support. Like that would matter in this!”
Aly glared at him, not at all pleased with the tone he had taken. “Do not turn this on me, nephew. Yes, I told you not to lose hope, but you should have gone into that parley with clarity.”
Scoffing, Benjicot demanded, “What was I supposed to do, Aly? Challenge Lord Bracken to a duel for her hand?”
“That is not what I’m saying, and you know it!” Aly yelled back, “Seven Hells, you are Bloody Ben. One of the fiercest warriors in Westeros. Not once have you ever accepted the odds against you. I do not know why you are doing so now.”
Benjicot could not believe what he was hearing. “I do not know what parley you attended, but I fought for her. I stood there and accepted Bracken’s abuse and asked for her hand. I took out a man’s throat for daring to insult her. What more could I have possibly done?"
Taking a calming breath, Aly tried to reign in her frustration. “You’re not listening to me.”
“Are you suggesting that I should have killed her father? Her cousin? All the Bracken men in attendance today? Started the war all the Targaryens are itching her?”
Aly rolled her eyes at Benjicot’s dramatics. “No, you idiot. I’m saying that you should have known this was going to be the outcome and had a plan to get her back regardless.”
Whatever thoughts were running through Benjicot’s head suddenly halted. “What exactly are you saying, Aly? Speak plainly.”
“Men,” Aly mumbled under her breath, “useless. Every single one of you.
I’m saying that you are allowing your emotions to cloud your judgment. If you love that little Bracken as much as you claim, then the Benjicot I know would burn down the world to get her back.”
Squaring her shoulders, Aly pinned him with a glare. “You satisfied the rules of diplomacy. You made an offer of marriage to her father. You have declared your love for each other. Lord Bracken’s decision to deny the marriage request will be seen as unreasonable by the realm. Especially if we spin the marriage as in the interests of peace and unity in the Riverlands. This is why your father proposed this farce.”
Benjicot was at a loss for words. His mind understood Aly’s words, understood the reasoning, but there was a disconnect. He could not see the bigger picture. “Why does this matter, Aly?”
“Give me strength.” Aly grabbed Benjicot’s arms and forced him down to her level. “It matters because you are going to go to Stone Hedge, steal your bride-to-be away, and marry her. And while you do that, your father and I are going to spread word of your love story. A tale of star-crossed lovers bound and determined to bring peace to the Riverlands. Should Bracken try and start a war over your marriage, Lord Tully will have his head.”
Benjicot’s heart jerked at the plan. He could not believe that his father and Aly had thought of such a scheme. “Why did you and father not tell me?”
Releasing Benjicot, Aly ran a hand through her hair and gestured about. “Because we knew that the parley had to be believable. We needed Bracken to believe we were taking his opinion seriously. If you had known the greater plan, you would not have been nearly as convincing.” She paused for a moment before adding, “The dagger to the throat really was a nice touch.”
Still, Aly could not resist smacking him upside the head again. “But I will not tolerate this wallowing in self-pity. You know better—you are better than this.”
Benjicot could not help but smile. Now he was the one pulling Aly into his arms and lifting her feet off the ground. He twirled the two of them, laughing at her expense and demands to be put back on solid earth. “You are a goddess amongst women, Alysanne Blackwood.”
Huffing, Aly tried to contain her smile but failed miserably. “Come on, you brute. Let us return to Raventree. We have to come up with a plan to steal away your bride.”
Benjicot felt like he could breathe again. A warm bloom of hope flitted through his chest. His gaze drifted back toward Stone Hedge. Toward you.
Wait for me, my lady. I am coming for you.
~~
You had not thought your father serious when he locked you in your chambers three days ago.
For the entire journey back to Stone Hedge, you were inconsolable. You sobbed and begged and tried to flee, but Aeron held firm. He wrangled you onto a horse, and held you tight against him as you beat your fists at any part of him you could reach.
But your efforts were wasted.
Aeron never wavered, never tried to comfort or console you. The Bracken host guarding and surrounding you was just as cold. Not a kind word or friendly face amongst them. Men you had known your entire life—men who had laughed and joked with you, had shared meals with you, and had protected you—were now sneering at you like you were scum.
You had never felt more like an outsider. One night had changed your entire existence. No longer were you seen as Amos Bracken’s beloved daughter. You were now a stranger. A foreign creature who no longer belonged in this place or amongst these people.
The fight left you. Exhaustion had finally won. Every part of you felt raw and exposed and wrung out. A sense of cold, detached numbness settled over your bones as you beheld the gates of Stone Hedge.
Home had never looked more like a prison.
You did not remember dismounting the horse. Did not remember how you got to your chambers. Voices were talking at you, saying words that were probably important, but everything sounded like a dull buzzing in your ears. You could not make out the words, could not decipher their meaning.
Only the shouting of your name finally pushed through the haze.
Your attention landed on Aeron standing in the doorway of your chamber. The hard mask he was wearing was still in place. Gone was the familiar warmth between you. Whatever familial affection he might have once felt for you seemed to be a thing of the past.
“Lord Bracken is confining you to these chambers. There will be a guard posted here at all times. Food and water will be brought to you. If you should attempt to leave, it will not end well for you.”
You did not bother responding to Aeron. There were no words to say.
The slamming of the door was the only indication that Aeron was not as ambivalent as he seemed. A true sign of his frustration and anger at your actions. But you could not be bothered to care about your cousin’s feelings. Not now.
Blessedly alone, you felt yourself begin to crumble again. Had it really only been yesterday morning that you had been in these chambers? Concocting your harebrained scheme to see Benjicot?
You flung yourself onto the bed and cried.
You cried for the life and love that you held in your grasp for a precious few hours.
Cried at the unfairness of being born a woman in a man’s word.
Cried in anger at your father and Aeron for denying you happiness.
Cried at the fates for being cruel enough to give you a love that was never meant to be yours.
Cried for Benjicot.
And when you could not cry anymore, you curled into a ball and watched as the day turned into night.
You wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. Not even twenty-four hours prior, you had thought yourself a prisoner at Raventree Hall. How wrong you were.
The next few days were nothing short of torture.
The only company you had was the maid who brought you two meals a day. On the first day, you tried to speak with her, but she gave no reply. The next day was the same. A guard let her into the room, she replaced the food trey, and she left. She did not even bother to lift her head to look you in the eye.
On the third day, you thought you might go insane. Your chamber held a few books and some parchment for writing, but your mind was distracted. Your concentration was gone. Words blurred on the page into unrecognizable shapes.
You had received no word from Aeron or your father. Had not been told your fate and what would become of you.
On the fourth day you stopped eating. The treys of food remained untouched. You allowed yourself water but nothing more.
The pains of hunger were nearly unbearable. You were weak and tired, and your head throbbed. But you were determined to make a point. Surely the maid was providing daily reports to someone, telling them about your refusal to eat.
On the sixth day, all you had the energy to do was sit in front of your window and gaze at the forests that separated the Bracken and Blackwood lands. A silent sentry, on guard waiting for the next horror to befall you.
But a part of you watched out of hope. A small kernel of hope remained locked in your heart, believing against the odds that Benjicot would come for you. That he would keep the promise he declared at the old mill. That he would not let you waste away in this tower.
“Do you wish to die, cousin? Is that what this has come to?”
Ah, so three days of no food was enough to spur Aeron into action. You did not bother to turn your head away from the window.
You heard your chamber door slam behind you. Heard Aeron’s footsteps approach until he was standing in your line of vision, forcing your gaze to his face.
Aeron’s face was splotched in anger. His eyes were narrowed in a glare that would usually make you uneasy, but after days of hunger and heartbreak, you could not manage to feel much of anything at all.
“Speak! I know you are capable.”
You rolled your eyes at his tone and crossed your arms. “I have nothing to say to you.”
You saw Aeron tense, clenching his fists at your disrespect. A wave of anxiety rolled through you. You did not think Aeron capable of violence, did not think he would ever lay a hand on you in anger, but in the span of a week, your life had been flipped on its head, and you were not quite sure of anything anymore.
You watched Aeron take a deep, calming breath. His face relaxed and shoulders dropped. Sighing, he finally said, “You cannot go on like this. You have to eat.”
You would not waste this opportunity. Aeron was your only access to the outside world. You had to leverage his presence. “I will eat, but only if you tell me what is to become of me. Am I supposed to spend the rest of my life locked in this room?”
Aeron grimaced at your demand. You watched the struggle play across his face before he relented. “Fine. Eat and I will tell you everything.”
“No, you will speak while I eat. I do not want you to back out of the deal.”
“Oh, for the love of the Seven. Eat, you troublesome woman, and I will explain.”
Narrowing your eyes, you huffed and picked up the dish left by the maid. A simple meal of roast chicken and vegetables, but after days of starving yourself, the meal tasted better than anything you had ever had.
After you had taken a few bites, Aeron began, “Your father is absolutely furious, but that should not be much of a surprise.”
You nodded, taking another portion of chicken. “Locking me in a room for a week was a pretty obvious indicator.”
Aeron smirked at your cheek. For much of your life, you and Aeron had been close. Not quite friends, but there had always been affection and respect between you. This strain on your relationship was foreign, and although you could tell that Aeron was trying to keep some distance, you felt him warming to you again.
But the strain returned to his face. You knew that whatever he was about to tell you was going to be upsetting. You tried to brace yourself, tried to force yourself to take a deep breath, to prepare yourself for whatever your father had planned.
“Your father plans to marry you off to some lordling in the Crownlands. He has been finalizing the arrangements over ravens for the last three days while you went on your hunger strike.”
You let the words settle over you. Let the gravity of the situation you found yourself in unfold.
A part of you was not surprised.
Of course your father planned to marry you to someone else. If the parlay had demonstrated anything, you father did not care about your happiness. He wanted you gone from the Riverlands. Gone from his sight. No longer his burden and responsibility. And if you were married to someone else, there was no chance that you could marry a Blackwood.
But another part of you was screaming.
How could you ever marry someone else when Benjicot Blackwood existed in this world? How could you kiss another man? Fuck him? Have children with him? The mere thought of being with someone else was revolting. Your very being rejected the idea. The little bit of chicken you had managed to eat was threatening to make a reappearance.
You could not look Aeron in the eye. You did not want him to see you breaking down. See the devastation that you were sure was plaguing your features.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you asked, “Is there nothing that can be done?”
Aeron ran a hand through his hair—a nervous habit he did when at a loss for words. “I will not lie to you, cousin. Short of that Blackwood cunt storming Stone Hedge, I am not sure this betrothal can be stopped.”
You let out a breath that you did not know you were holding.
You knew that your father was not going to change his mind. From the moment you and Benjicot had stood together at the mill, you knew that your father’s hatred for the Blackwoods would outweigh any affection he held for you. Your wishes and desires did not matter.
So, even though you knew the answer was likely going to be devastating, you dared to ask, “Do you know when he plans to send me away?”
Hearing the raw grief in your voice, you watched Aeron close his eyes and grimace. Without looking at you, he answered, “Tomorrow morning. Just after first light.”
You felt as if you had been punched in the stomach.
All of the sudden you could not get enough air into your lungs. Could not control the thundering of your heart. Bile rose to your throat swiftly. Your plate of mostly untouched food crashed to the floor as you launched yourself to the chamber pot, heaving and emptying your stomach until there was nothing left.
You were hysterical. Inconsolable. Your body was shaking and all you wanted to do was scream, scream, scream, scream.
You had never felt smaller than in this moment. A being with no control over her own fate. Doomed to be forever beholden to the whims and cruelties of men.
You felt Aeron hold your hair back as you continued to wretch. He did not offer any words of comfort, did not tell you that everything was going to be alright. You felt him rub small circles into your back until you were able to calm down enough to jerk away from his touch.
“Do not touch me! How could you let this happen? How could you let him send me away like this?” Panic and anger coated your words. Every bit of anger and despair and frustration unleashed itself. You did not recall moving, but suddenly you were before Aeron again, hitting and striking him with every bit of strength you had left.
“You know I will be miserable in the Crownlands!” A punch to the shoulder. “You know that sending me away is as good as a death sentence!” Another strike to the chest. “Do you hold no love for me at all, Aeron?” A slap to the face.
Now you were the one who could not look Aeron in the eyes. Breathing heavily, you finally backed away, but not before asking, voice cracking with tears, “Why did you not fight for me? Do I mean that little to you?”
(Later, much later, after you had a chance to reflect back on this moment, you wondered if your words and anger were really for Aeron. Or if he was just the unfortunate bystander for all of your grief that should have been directed at another.)
For all of Aeron’s faults, he allowed you the space to vent your rage and fear. He never made a move to stop you. Never protested under your assault.
“You know as well as I that once your father makes up his mind, there is very little that can be done.” Aeron moved to pick up the ruined food. “You did not exactly leave me in an easy position when you suddenly left and did not return home. Your father blamed me for your inexplicable absence.”
Aeron placed the cracked plate and remnants of food back on the trey before pouring himself a glass of wine. Taking a long drink, Aeron finally turned back to you. “We had every available guard in Stone Hedge looking for you. For hours, your father and I sat in the keep and worried over your fate. Had you been kidnapped? Were you injured? Would we ever see you again?”
Aeron paused and took another long drink of wine. Your head was beginning to pound the longer he spoke. The more he shared the consequences of your reckless decision.
“And when we finally received a raven saying that you were with the Blackwoods? That they wanted to conduct a parley over your return?” Aeron scoffed, “I thought I had seen your father angry before, but that was nothing in comparison to the rage that consumed him then.”
Another long drink of wine. You were now sure Aeron intended to finish the entire decanter. “But then you declared your love for Benjicot Blackwood in front of an entire host of Bracken soldiers and asked to be married. You defied your upbringing. Rejected House Bracken in a public display of disrespect.”
You were trembling again. Not from anger or frustration or panic, but at the sadness you heard in Aeron’s voice. A sadness that echoed your own grief.
You would never regret going to Benjicot to declare your love. Never regret the moments you shared with him.
But in this moment, you regretted that your choices hurt your family. Had clearly hurt Aeron.
With the last of the wine finally gone, Aeron finished his speech with the final blow. “He wanted to kill you.”
Surely, you had not heard him correctly. “W-what?”
“Your father. That first day back.” Aeron shook his head back and forth as he let out an exhausted laugh before sobering. His face clouded over as he recalled the conversation he had with your father. As if even he could not believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.
“He wanted to kill you and leave your body at the doorsteps of Raventree Hall. Said that you were no daughter of his. He was—is still that angry.” Aeron’s voice was flat, but you knew better. You knew all the way down to your bones that you were only alive because of Aeron.
Your callous words from earlier rang in your ears. Aeron had fought for you. Pled for your life. Had somehow convinced your father that killing you was not the answer. Had bought you and Benjicot time.
The realization that you owed your life to your cousin was enough to make your knees buckle. You hit the floor with a thud, no longer able to keep yourself standing under the enormity of the situation.
Your father had wanted to kill you for daring to love a Blackwood.
Aeron knelt down beside you. Not to help you rise or offer words of comfort. But to offer his silent support. He knew that there were no words that could explain your father’s hatred and cruelty and prejudice.
The two of you sat shoulder to shoulder, leaning against your bed frame. You did not know how long you sat in silence with the truth bared before you. But as you watched the day turn to dusk, you knew one thing—that you would have to impose on Aeron’s kindness one last time. Ask him for one more favor.
Gathering your courage, and in the softest voice you could manage, you whispered, “Will you help me escape?”
When Aeron remained silent, you chanced a glance up to his face, wanting to gage his reaction to your request.
To your surprise, Aeron was already looking down at you. With a huff of a laugh and a smirk, he said, “I thought you would never ask.”
~~
Benjicot would never think of these woods the same way again.
For most of his life, he was grateful for the woods that separated Stone Hedge and Raventree. The terrain made it difficult to stage an attack and likely prevented unnecessary bloodshed between the two Houses.
He spent hours in these woods. Exploring. Learning. Training. The woods were his second home. A place where he could let his feral nature take shape. A place where he could roam, free from the weight of expectations that came with being the Blackwood heir.
Seeing you in these woods for the first time was a shock his system. Benjicot knew who you were the second he laid eyes on you. Amos Bracken’s beloved daughter.
He had no idea what you were doing here. For a split second, he thought of approaching you. Thought of scaring you into never returning to this place. He was sure that you had no idea you were well beyond the boundary stones and in Blackwood territory.
But something held Benjicot back. The longer he watched you from afar, the harder it became to approach you. He saw the wonder in your eyes as you explored the woods. How you took note of every flower. How you unlaced your shoes and took a quick splash through a creek.
The delight on your face rivaled the warmth of the sun.
Benjicot watched and watched and watched. He might have only been a boy of five and ten then, but he knew what it meant when a man watched a woman. Knew the pangs of longing that began to take root inside his heart.
When you injured yourself, Benjicot knew that he could not watch any longer. Your cry of pain was enough to send him into action.
Purposefully, he made enough noise to garner your attention, to break through the distraction of your pain.
If your beauty had not already bewitched him, your cunning mouth sealed his fate. The moment you pressed yourself into his dagger, Benjicot knew he was in love with you. Knew that he would someday make you his wife.
Without these woods, who knows when Benjicot might have been given the chance to see your strength. To hear your wit. To relish in your beauty and touch your skin.
These woods were a sanctuary. His sanctuary. A place where he would gladly worship at your alter for the rest of his days.
So, it was only fitting that Benjicot would have to cross these woods again to steal you away for good.
A week. Benjicot had been forced to wait a week before he was allowed to come for you.
The week had been unbearable. Every day, he begged Aly and his father to let him take you away. No matter how much he threatened or raged, the two of them held firm. Patience, they said. We need time for word of your love to spread, they argued.
None of that mattered to Benjicot. He knew their plans and schemes were a means to an end. Knew that despite their misgivings, they were on his side and supported his union with you.
But Benjicot had no way of knowing your condition. No way of knowing if you were hurt. He had seen and experienced Amos Bracken’s cruel nature. Knew that Amos was not a kind man. Although Benjicot had seen no indication that Amos had ever raised a hand to you in anger, he could not help but worry.
When he was finally permitted to retrieve you, Benjicot leapt at the chance. With barely half a plan put together, he set off on his own. Aly had tried to talk him into taking a few trusted guards, but Benjicot knew extra bodies would only slow him down. Stealth and silence were his friends. The only comparisons he would need on this journey.
Benjicot was only about an hour or two from Stone Hedge when he heard footsteps. Halting in place, Benjicot quickly took cover. He was well past the boundary stones, deep enough into Bracken territory that if he was spotted, an instant death would be his fate. Straining to listen, Benjicot detected at least two different sets of footsteps. Likely a guard patrol.
Benjicot did not want to fight if he could help it. He did not know how many other Bracken men patrolled this area. A fight would cost him precious time that he did not have.
Hidden under the cover of nightfall, and as quietly as he could manage, Benjicot unsheathed two daggers. The guards would never see him coming. Holding his position, he waited for the perfect time to strike.
The footsteps continued approaching. Whomever was walking through the woods clearly gave no thought to concealing their presence.
When the footsteps were nearly on top of him, Benjicot tensed and prepared to strike—
“Your betrothed is an idiot. I hope you know that.”
Benjicot’s entire body went rigid. He thought his very heart might have stopped. He knew that voice. Had fought and exchanged blows with that voice.
But then he heard a laugh. Your laugh.
Without thinking, Benjicot stepped out from his hiding spot. His eyes could not believe the sight before him.
You were here.
Benjicot’s breath caught in his throat as he drank in your vision. Your beauty overwhelmed him. Your smile was enough to bring him to his knees. He scanned your body, looking for any signs of mistreatment. You looked tired and thinner than you had a week ago, but you otherwise appeared in good health. For the first time in a week, Benjicot felt the tension leave his body.
You were here. You were safe.
Only after Benjicot assured himself that you were well did he turn his attention to your companion.
Aeron Bracken.
His presence here was nothing short of a shock. Not for all the gold in Westeros would Benjicot have believed that Aeron would help you escape. Because there was no other explanation for what was happening here. No denying the situation before him. The two of them were clearly on the path from Stone Hedge to Raventree.
Benjicot did not know whether to thank the Seven, the old gods, or some other all-powerful being for being present in these woods tonight. For guiding the steps that lead to this moment. For tying the two of you together with an invisible string of fate.
But none of that mattered. All that mattered is that you were here with him.
Aeron was the first to break the silence. “Were you actually planning to storm Stone Hedge by yourself, Blackwood?”
Without missing a beat, Benjicot shrugged, “If it came to that.”
Aeron rolled his eyes. “Still as much of a cunt as ever, I see.”
“As if you would have me any other way, Bracken.”
You could not help but laugh again at the ridiculousness of the situation. Not so long ago, the two of them were ready to tear each other apart. And now they were trading jokes as if tonight’s actions may not possibly result in war.
“If you two peacocks are done insulting each other, I think Benjicot and I should go.”
Benjicot caught your eye and gave you a wink. “You will get no argument from me, my lady.”
Aeron made a sound of disgust at Benjicot’s attempt to flirt. “For the rest of my life, cousin, I will have no idea what you see in him.”
“I know.” You said, with a soft smile.
Before Aeron could protest, you pulled him into a hug. You did not know if you would ever see him again. Did not know if you would ever be able to properly thank him. “I will be forever in your debt, Aeron Bracken.”
Aeron returned your hug. Whispering, so that Benjicot could not overhear, he said,“I wish you happiness, cousin. I hope you find it with him.” After a quick kiss to your forehead, Aeron released you into Benjicot’s awaiting arms.
The relief of being in Benjicot’s arms again was indescribable. Touching him. Feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You finally felt safe. You were where you were meant to be. Nothing bad could happen to you if you were in his embrace.
“Take care of her, Blackwood.” And with those final words, Aeron was gone.
Even though Aeron could no longer hear him, Benjicot could not help but reply, “I will,” while staring into your eyes.
Benjicot cupped your face, drawing the two of you closer together. Breathing in each other’s air, you felt as if your very souls lock into place. The world had righted itself again. From this day until the end of days, the two of you would no longer tolerate being separated.
“Can I kiss you, my lady?” Benjicot asked, his face and lips all but brushing against yours.
All of the longing you had trampled down in the last few days suddenly rose to the surface. You wanted to feel his lips on yours. Wanted to feel his body, his warmth, his touch. With a needy sigh, you gripped his tunic and pulled his face even closer. “Gods, yes—"
And then he was kissing you. His body covered yours as he claimed all of your air. You opened to him, your hands letting go of his tunic to snake around his neck. Gripping his hair, you arched into him, slotting into his body so that every part of him touched every part of you.
His tongue was in your mouth, flicking and exploring and teasing until you felt yourself grow slick with want. You whimpered as you felt one of his hands leave your face and trace down, giving your neck a light squeeze before moving lower.
Benjicot was getting under your skin, burrowing himself deeper and deeper and deeper. You did not care that you were in the middle of the woods and on the run from your father. You wanted Benjicot and you wanted him now.
But as quickly as it started, the kiss was over.
With one final peck to your lips, Benjicot released you. “As much as I would love to devour you here, my lady, we need to go. We need to make it back onto Blackwood lands before day break.”
Your heart was hammering in your chest so hard that you could not find any words, but you nodded in agreement. Taking your hand, Benjicot lead you further into the woods. Lead you away from the place you once called home. Lead you towards your future.
Only after you had been walking for a few moments were you finally able to speak again. “At least you did not knock me unconscious this time.”
final author note: Shout out to Aly and Aeron for being the real mvps of this story. Love you so much, babes xx
final final author note: if you want to be added to the taglist, or if you do not want to be tagged anymore, shoot me a message!
Hi author! I hope you’re doing well, I just wanted to let you know that I think your series “I love you, its ruining my life” is genuinely one of the best pieces of fanfiction, I have ever had the pleasure of reading. you mentioned not doing to well and I hope that you’re doing better<3
All the love, anon<3
Hello sweet anon. I don’t think I ever replied to this lovely message. Thank you so much for your love and support!! I am actually doing better than I have been the last few months.
I have about ~2,000 words of the next chapter of “I love you. It’s ruining my life.” written. So the next chapter is in the works!
Appreciate all of you and your patience. I want to finish this story for all of you and for myself.
Hi! I love your fics and can’t wait for the next one. Hope you are doing well author🤍
This is so nice 😭 thank you so much! ❤️
I’ve been down bad recently but I want to pick up my writing again soon and post all the things that I’ve started. Real life has just been so hard for the past few months. But I feel so honored and grateful for all of you! I’ll post again soon I promise.
I really like the Romeo and Juliet star crossed lovers part of your series. I hope Benjicot gets a happy ending but omg the angst hurts so good!
Thank you!!!! 💕 We’re ramping up the Romeo and Juliet vibes even more in the next chapter. But I’m a sucker for a happily ever after and can’t imagine writing anything without a happy ending 😂
When I tell you I cannot WAIT for the next part of I love you it's ruining my life!! Take your time tho love, it's sooo good 😩😩😩
Awwww thank you so much!!! 💕 I love getting messages like this. They make my day.
I promise that I’m writing the next chapter of “I love you. It’s ruining my life.” And I hope to have it finished as soon as possible.
Just as a preview for you all: we’re getting Benjicot’s perspective, and we’re leaning heavily into the Romeo & Juliet vibes.
I wish my regular life would calm down so that I could have more time to write. 😂 I so appreciate y’all’s patience. I still have so many stories I want to write.
pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)
warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, death
summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood plan for the future. Things don’t quite go as planned.
word count: 5.1k
author note: Thank you all so much for your patience! I will not lie—this part was a struggle to write. I think I rewrote it at least three times, and I am still not sure if I’m absolutely satisfied. Fair warning, I’m putting our lovebirds through the ringer, but do not worry—I’m a girl who loves a happily ever after. Also, no smut in this part, but stick around for part five. Happy reading!
part i can be found here, part ii here, and part iii here.
“Have you lost your mind?”
You could not have heard him correctly. Surely Benjicot Blackwood had not just asked you to marry him, while you were half naked.
You hurried to adjust your dress and cover yourself in a desperate attempt to establish some sense of dignity and propriety in this moment. Had you not been overwhelmed by the day, had you not been so taken off guard, you might have responded a little more kindly to a proposal from your beloved.
Benjicot laughed as he watched you try to gather your wits about you. He followed your direction, adjusting his breaches so that everything was tucked back into its proper place.
Once you were both decent, Benjicot reiterated, “I am quite serious. We should marry this evening.”
You shook your head, mind racing as you tried to comprehend what he was saying, what he was asking. For years, you had watched Benjicot from afar. Watched the way he grew into a man, into someone that people feared and respected in equal measure. Being with Benjicot was always your dream. The one you had tucked away in your heart for years, never to see the light of day should you dare to do the most dangerous thing in all of Westeros—hope.
And now he was asking you to marry him. You felt unbalanced, unsteady. Your head and your heart were at war.
You managed to get off the bed. Needing a moment to collect yourself, you put some distance between you and Benjicot and moved back across the room to the fireplace.
When you turned back to Benjicot, you saw that he had not moved. His eyes were fixed on you, that predatory gaze locked onto your form, waiting for your response.
That look in his eyes never failed to make you squirm. The weight of that stare made you think he could hear every thought in your head, all your secrets and dreams.
You sighed, breaking eye contact and said, “You know that our families will never allow it.”
Benjicot stood then, and slowly stalked toward you. With each step, you felt your heartbeat pound louder against your chest. You had thought that the longer you spent in his presence, the more you would become used to him. But you could not deny the effect Benjicot had on you, on your body.
Benjicot took your hands in his, and pulled you against him. Placing your hands on his chest, he rubbed his thumbs over the scrapes you had gotten earlier in the woods. Had that only been this morning? Time seemed to hold no meaning in this room. A prison that now felt like a sanctuary.
“That is why we must marry tonight.” Benjicot smiled, and then placed a kiss on your brow. “By the time they find out, it will be too late.”
You pulled back, just enough so that you could look at his face. “And do your really expect your father and Black Aly to welcome me into the family with open arms?”
Benjicot was still smiling, still so sure of his plan. “They will once they see how happy we are. How much we love each other.” He shrugged before continuing, “And we would not be the first Blackwoods and Brackens to marry. Others have done it in the name of peace.”
“But our families do not seek peace now!” You practically shouted, frustration coloring your tone. “We are on the brink of war, and our families stand on opposite sides.”
You tried pulling away, but Benjicot tightened his arms around you, stilling your struggle. Whatever good humor Benjicot had was slowly leaching from his features. “You know as well as I do that Queen Rhaenyra is the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”
You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.“Of course I agree with you, but that does not change the fact that my father will disown me if we do this. I will never be able to return home.”
Benjicot pressed another kiss to your temple and whispered against your skin,“Would that be such an awful thing?”
You felt your heart jerk at his question. The idea of never seeing your family again, of never being welcomed home, of never eating your cook’s fruit pies or riding through the moorlands outside of Stone Hedge on a misty morning, or gods never visiting your mother’s gravestone, was enough to send a wave of nausea through you.
You hid your face against his chest. “My father was not always the most loving, but he is my father. For all the faults you may find with him, he has never been cruel to me.”
Benjicot felt the shift in your mood, could practically feel the sadness and desperation radiate from the points where you touched. He knew the sacrifice he was asking you to make was no small thing. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms, trying to comfort the turmoil within you.
You could not stop the tears even if you wanted to. You did not wail, did not scream at the unfairness of your situation, did not rail against the old gods and the new for cursing your families and subjecting them to an endless blood feud. For what else could this ancient, hateful grudge between the Blackwoods and Brackens be except for a curse?
Even if you could convince your father to bless a marriage between you and Benjicot, any children between you would be enlisted to the war. Generations of prejudice had proven that. It was no matter that the Bracken or Blackwood on the other side would be a cousin. No matter that no one could remember how the hatred between your two families even began. No matter how senseless the bloodshed would be.
This was your and Benjicot’s world. You could not run from the truth of your situation, could not hide from your fates. Not if you wanted your love to withstand.
And even though the thought of never going back to Stone Hedge was devastating, the thought of never seeing Benjicot again was unthinkable. Never hearing his voice or his laugh. Never seeing his smiles. Never having him hold you in his arms. You could not bear the separation, not after having a taste of what your life could be like together.
Your tears slowed and your breathing evened out. Whatever doubts that had plagued your mind were banished. Resolution steeled your spine. You took a fortifying breath and lifted your head from Benjicot’s chest. With a watery smile on your face, you said, “I accept your proposal, Benjicot Blackwood.”
Benjicot’s joy was infectious. Smiling wide and bright, he lifted you into his arms and kissed you with such a reverence that left your breathless. Gods, you loved this man. Wanted him again and could not imagine ever being parted from him. The very thought of being separated was enough to send a panic through you.
You wrapped your arms around Benjicot’s neck and tangled your hands in his hair, your tongue in his mouth. You felt his joy in that kiss. And you let that joy into your heart. Let it fill and warm you. In this moment, you allowed yourself to be happy.
The impossible dream was becoming a reality.
When Benjicot had proposed, he did not have an actual plan. He did not have any rings or a marriage cloak. As a Blackwood, he preferred to have a ceremony before the old gods in front of the ancient, colossal weirwood tree in the godswood.
Because there were no clergy associated with the old gods, the current Lord Blackwood usually performed marriage ceremonies at Raventree Hall. But seeing as his father would likely oppose the marriage, that left Benjicot with few options. With a little convincing, or in Benjicot’s case, a little threat of bodily harm, the maester finally agreed to perform the ceremony.
You could not stop smiling as Benjicot snuck you out of your rooms. With each passing hallway and corridor, you felt your excitement grow. You could barely contain your glee as you clung to each other, arms linked and hands intertwined, as you made your way into the godswood.
The maester stood before the weirwood tree, with only the moonlight and a few lanterns to light the way. Hundreds of ravens were to be your witnesses. On any other night, feeling the weight of all those eyes watching you might have felt unsettling. But nothing could spoil this moment, nothing could come between you and Benjicot—
“What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing?”
Every muscle in your body tensed. Panic settled in your chest, and you felt your stomach drop.
Black Aly stood at the edge of the godswood, her bow and arrow knocked and poised to strike.
You felt the world shift. One moment you were standing beside Benjicot, and the next, Benjicot stood in between you and Aly, putting himself in the way of the arrow that had been aimed at your chest.
“Lower the bow, Aly.” Benjicot’s voice was hard and low. You watched as he moved his hand to the hilt of his dagger, ready to draw the blade at any moment.
Even from a distance, you could see Aly roll her eyes at Benjicot’s actions, but she did not lower her bow. “Do not overwork yourself, nephew.”
You grabbed the back of Benjicot’s cloak, pulling slightly as if to hold him back. You glanced wearily back and forth between the Blackwoods. Two warriors preparing to battle. The last thing you wanted was for there to be violence. For surely a duel between Bloody Ben and Black Aly would be a fight for the ages.
Benjicot’s body was tense as yours. He did not truly believe that Aly would hurt you. Aly was tough but fair, and underneath her brash attitude and hostility, she had a gentle heart. But he would not risk you. Would not allow anyone to threaten or harm you. Not when he had the ability to protect you.
Benjicot pulled out his dagger. “Put the bow away, Aly. I will not ask again.”
You wanted to step in between them like you had done in the fight with Aeron. But this situation was different. This was two Blackwood who were taking the measure of each other, testing how far the other was willing to go. You could not intervene, even if the sight of an arrow pointed at Benjicot was enough to send your blood running cold.
After what felt like hours, Aly lowered her bow. Sighing, she returned the arrow to her quiver. Only then did Benjicot sheath his dagger.
“You sure have a flare for the dramatics, nephew.”
Now it was Benjicot’s turn to roll his eyes. “Says the woman who had an arrow aimed at my betrothed.”
Your heart fluttered at the word.
Aly huffed out a laugh. “Is that what she is to you? Your betrothed? I do not recall your father agreeing to any such arrangement.”
Benjicot remained in front of you, a barrier between you and Aly. “I asked for her hand, and she accepted.”
Aly stood with her hands on her hips, eyes directed toward the heavens. She looked as if she were searching for patience amongst the stars. When she cut her gaze back to Benjicot, you could not miss the look of pity that flashed across her face.
“Benji, you know that you cannot marry her.”
You reached for Benjicot’s hand, needing his touch and warmth to ground you in this moment. Whatever happiness you had felt, whatever joy that you had shared, was now slowly falling through your grasp.
Black Aly would never allow you two to marry. Not like this.
But Benjicot’s stubbornness was no light thing. “I love her, Aly. I will marry her, and you cannot stop me.”
Just as Aly was about to respond, you saw her face pale and expression grow uneasy. And when you heard the voice behind you, you understood why.
“You would be wise to reconsider that position, son.”
If you had thought you felt panic before, that was nothing to the sickening feeling that plagued you now.
Because standing on the opposite side of the godswood, directly across from Aly, was Lord Samwell Blackwood. Benjicot’s father, and your own father’s sworn enemy. And with him stood a dozen Blackwood guards, each looking between you and Benjicot with expressions that ranged from disbelief to disgust.
You had never been formally introduced to Lord Blackwood. He was a rather tall man, with hair as black as a raven’s wing. His close-cropped beard was the same. Like Benjicot, his gaze was enough to send a lesser man cowering. And right now that gaze was cold and enraged and fixed on you and Benjicot.
If Benjicot had not been holding your hand, you would have been trembling. The two of you were trapped.
“Are you so eager to start a war, Benjicot?” Lord Blackwood asked, his tone was like ice. “For some Bracken wench?”
You felt Benjicot’s hand tighten around yours, almost to the point of pain. One glance at Benjicot told you that he was furious. His glare held that feral edge, and he was close to snarling. Bloody Ben was backed into a corner, and he looked itching for a fight. Even if that fight was against his own father.
“You will mind how you speak about my lady, father.” Had you not been so fearful for your life and his, you would have thought that declaration rather romantic.
Lord Blackwood did not look impressed. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you and your lady have brought to our door, Benjicot?”
“We wish to marry, father.” Benjicot glanced at you as he said, “We love each other.”
A long suffering sigh escaped from Lord Blackwood as he motioned for his men to stand down. “That does not change the fact that she is a Bracken. You cannot simply marry her without expecting there to be consequences.”
“I am prepared to accept any consequence if it means we can be together.” The surety in Benjicot’s tone was enough to ease the fear that had gripped you since you had been discovered. You could help but give him a small smile.
A smile that Lord Blackwood did not miss. “And you, Lady Bracken?” Lord Blackwood sneered. “Are you prepared to face the consequences of this marriage? Your father will seek retribution for this little act of rebellion. Are you prepared to have blood on your hands?”
Now you were the one who squeezed Benjicot’s hand. Lord Blackwood terrified you, and so did his words. You did not wish to be the cause of another fight between the Blackwoods and the Brackens, did not want to send anyone to their death because you fell in love with someone who was never meant to be yours.
Benjicot nudged his shoulder against yours, offering you what strength he could. With him standing at your side, you found the courage to meet Lord Blackwood’s gaze. “Whatever trials and tribulations may come our way, Lord Blackwood, I am prepared to meet them with Benjicot as my lord husband.”
Even without looking at him, you could feel Benjicot’s eyes on you as you held your own against his father. Could feel how proud he was of you for defending your future together.
Taking another breathe, you could not help but add, “You speak of my hands becoming bloody, but I could not think of anything more fitting for a woman betrothed to Bloody Ben Blackwood.”
The silence in the godswood was deafening.
Every person and creature seemed to be holding their breath for Lord Blackwood’s response. You did not dare break eye contact with him, determined to hold your ground and prove yourself worthy of being Benjicot’s wife.
Lord Blackwood finally moved his gaze from you and back to Benjicot. “We will treat with Lord Bracken tomorrow. Offer him a parley. You will ask his permission to marry his daughter. You will accept his decision, no matter what he says.”
“Father! You know he will not—”
But Lord Blackwood had heard enough. Holding up his hand, he demanded silence. “Those are my terms, Benjicot. Be grateful I am allowing this much.”
A weariness had settled over Lord Blackwood’s features. Although he was still a man in his prime, in that moment, he looked aged and tired. As he turned to leave the godswood, he said, “We stand on the brink of war. The Targaryens are at each other’s throats since King Viserys passed. Soon House Blackwood will be asked to choose a side, and you have allowed your foolish heart to guide your choices.”
You could tell Benjicot wanted to protest, wanted to push back on his father’s orders. He knew as well as you did that convincing your father to allow the two of you to marry was going to take an act of the gods.
And even though Benjicot knew when to pick his battles, knew when he had lost a fight, he could not help but have the last word. “There are worse things to be guided by than one’s heart, father.”
Benjicot’s words gave Lord Blackwood pause. For a moment, you thought he might respond, might reprimand Benjicot for his lack of respect. Only when Lord Blackwood continued walking out of the godswood did you feel like you could breathe again.
The Blackwood guards followed their ledge lord, leaving you, Benjicot, and Aly in the presence of the ravens. You could have collapsed from exhaustion. You felt wrung out from the day. Too much had happened in such a short period of time, and your body was protesting.
Aly approached and stopped just short of you and Benjicot. “Well, that did not quite go as I expected.”
Benjicot rounded on Aly, and with animosity in his voice, he asked, “Why did you stop us?”
Aly stared at Benjicot like he had grown a second head. “We’re trying to prevent a war, Benji. Had the two of you married, Bracken would have shown up here with a thousand men seeking your head. You might love each other, but is that love really worth the lives of hundreds? Thousands?”
“You are overreacting—”
Aly shoved at Benjicot’s chest. “And you are being an idiot! Use your head, Benji. If you had married in secret, the Brackens would have stopped at nothing to avenge that insult. You know that, even if you are too blind to see it.”
With a softer tone, Aly continued, “Be grateful your father is supporting you in this. He could have just as easily returned her to Stone Hedge. You have a chance.”
Benjicot scoffed. “A chance? Do you really believe—”
“Enough.” You cut Benjicot off before he could say another word. You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “My father may hate Blackwoods, but he is not unreasonable. We will convince him.”
You could tell that Benjicot was struggling to control his temper. He was still running hot from the confrontation with Aly and his father. Bloody Ben was lingering too close to the surface. You pulled his face toward yours and pressed a kiss to his lips. Nothing more than a gentle peck, but enough to distract him.
When you pulled back, you could see that some of the edge had worn off. Benjicot’s face was calmer, less hostile. “I love you, Benjicot Blackwood. I do not plan to give you up without a fight.”
Benjicot smiled at your words, the soft smile he reserved just for you. He wrapped his arms around you, tucking you under his chin. “My brave girl. I pity any man who would dare cross you.”
You held each other for a moment before Aly cleared her throat. “If you two are finished, I’m going to escort little Bracken back to her rooms.”
With a quick kiss to your head, Benjicot released you and said, “Sleep well, my lady.”
You did not want to leave Benjicot, but you knew there was no way Aly was going to let you stay with each other. As you followed her out of the godswood, you could not help but take one last look at Benjicot.
You nearly stumbled when you saw him. Beneath the ancient weirwood tree, bathed in moonlight and surrounded by ravens, stood Benjicot. His head bowed as if in prayer.
You did not have to guess what he was praying about. You only hoped that the old gods were listening.
The only neutral territory acceptable to both the Blackwoods and the Brackens were the boundary stones near the old windmill. The day was overcast and cold, with the wind tearing through the cloak Aly had lent you.
Aly had not left your side since collecting you from your rooms that morning. You and Benjicot had been kept separated for the entire journey. You had asked for him, begged Aly to allow you two a moment alone, but she had refused. Lord Blackwood was keeping both she and Benjicot on a tight leash until this matter was settled.
To say you were nervous was an understatement. You had tossed and turned the entire night, too anxious to close your eyes for fear of what your dreams may hold. You might have been confident with Benjicot the night before, but in truth, you had no idea how to convince your father to allow you to marry.
The Brackens had arrived first.
A host of about fifty men had gathered on their side of the boundary stones. A sea of red and gold with a few horses scattered in the mix. You did not miss how all the men were armed with swords at the ready.
And in the front, seated atop his favorite war horse and adorned in battle leathers, was Amos Bracken. Your father.
Amos Bracken was not as tall or built as Samwell Blackwood, but you knew your father to be a proficient swordsmen and respected fighter in his own right. You had no doubt that should this come to blows, he would hold his own.
Aeron stood beside him. A united front against their perceived enemies. And while your father’s face was blank of all emotions, calm and controlled, Aeron’s disdain for the Blackwoods was clear for all to see.
The Blackwood host equalled that of the Brackens’. You had ridden to the neutral ground on the back of Aly’s horse. You had tried to spot Benjicot all morning, but there were too many men, too much chaos. The closer you got to the boundary stones, the more you felt Aly tense in front of you.
When you finally stopped, Aly directed you to the front of the vanguard. She had drawn her bow the moment your feet hit the ground.
Your first sight of Benjicot sent your heart thumping. His dark hair was mussed, as if he had run his hand through it multiple times. But that was the only sign that Benjicot felt uneasy. His posture was relaxed, and his mouth was fixed in a smirk, like this meeting was an every day occurrence. He showed no fear.
Aly stopped you slightly behind and to the right of Benjicot. You saw the moment when your father and Aeron spotted you. Your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Aeron’s face twisted into a mix of shock and disbelief.
You swallowed down the fear and anxiety. Swallowed down the nausea that threatened to upend your breakfast. Swallowed down any uncertainty you felt. You had to present a strong front to your father and his men. Otherwise, they would pounce on any hesitation and demand that you be returned home.
Lord Blackwood broke the silence first. “Amos. A pleasure as always.”
“Cut the shit, Blackwood,” Lord Bracken snarled, “and return my daughter to me.”
The words were not unexpected. You tensed as Aeron shifted his hand to the sword at his side, stomach twisting as he gripped the hilt.
You exhaled a long breath and fixed your gaze on your father. “I am well, father. The Blackwoods have treated me kindly.”
Lord Bracken’s face darkened, and you instantly regretted speaking. “I do not want to hear a single word from you.”
Your cheeks flamed at the dismissal, but you refused to lower your eyes. Refused to cower before your family. “Then I am sorry to disappoint you, father.”
“You insubordinate, ungrateful—”
“Lord Bracken,” Benjicot interjected, stopping your father from insulting you further. “I am here to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
You did not so much as breathe as you waited for your father to respond.
And waited.
And waited.
The longer you waited, the more panic seeped into your veins. But when your father finally responded, you wished that he had not.
With a sneer on his face, your father glared at Benjicot when he said, “I would sooner feed my daughter to one of those Targaryen dragons before marrying her to some Blackwood cunt.”
You had felt like someone had knocked the air from your lungs. You had never seen such hatred on your father’s face. Had never heard his voice sound so cold and cruel. You knew that he hated the Blackwoods, but to sentence you to death rather than let you marry?
You looked at your father like he was a stranger.
You heard angry shouts and curses behind you from the Blackwood host. Felt that the bloodlust in the air had upped a notch.
Lord Blackwood held up a hand to silence his men. “Careful, Bracken.”
“My daughter was taken by your son. Subjected to gods knows what. I will not be careful, Blackwood.”
“That’s not true, father!” You shouted, launching yourself to stand before your father. You had to find some way to convince him, some way to get him to listen. “Benjicot and I are in love. Please, just listen to us.”
Your father scoffed. “Love? Between a Bracken and a Blackwood? Do not make me laugh.”
The Bracken host jeered at your father’s word, laughing and snickering at the very idea of you and Benjicot being together. You even heard a man call out, “Blackwood whore!”
You did not see Benjicot move. Did not see him reach for the dagger at his hip. Did not see him launch the blade into the air.
But you could not miss the dagger embedding itself into the man’s throat. Could not miss the splattering of blood or the final wheeze of breath the man took before falling to the ground. Dead in the blink of an eye.
A scream tore from your throat. You whipped around to look at Benjicot and found Bloody Ben instead. His eyes held that crazed, feral look, but there was no smirk.
Every Blackwood and Bracken standing in that field un-sheathed their weapons.
“You may insult me all you wish, Bracken!” Benjicot called out, moving forward. “Call me a cunt. Call me craven. I do not care.” He stopped next to you and took your hand. "But I will cut down any man who dares to say such vile insults to my lady. Of that, I promise you.”
Your father did not look pleased by that declaration. If anything, he looked more enraged than before. “You violate the terms of this parley, Blackwood. You have spilled Bracken blood. I have the right to demand your head. But I will settle for the return of my daughter. Now.”
You were close to tears. Nothing you or Benjicot said moved your father. He was determined to hold onto his hatred, to see the Blackwoods in the worst possible light. But you could not give up—you had to try.
“Father, please,” your voice broke at the words, “I know that the feud between our families has lasted for a millennium. I know that the thought of a Blackwood and Bracken being together, of loving one another, is inconceivable to you. I know that this is not the life you wished for me. But I have lovedBenjicot since I was a girl.” You took a quick glance at Benjicot to give you strength. “And he loves me. I humbly ask you to grant our union.”
Your father refused to look at you. Refused to acknowledge your words or pleas. You clutched Benjicot’s hand tighter. For you knew what was coming. Knew that your father was about to crush whatever hope you still held onto.
Ignoring you and Benjicot as if you were insignificant, he directed his words to Lord Blackwood, “I do not give my blessing to this marriage. Return my daughter to me or we will have war.”
Your vision swam and your ears began ringing. Somewhere in the distance you heard Lord Blackwood sigh and give the command. Your hand was ripped from Benjicot’s, by whom you did not know. You felt as if the entire world had spun off its axis. How had everything gone so wrong?
One moment, you were standing next to Benjicot, his warm hand against yours, and then in the blink of an eye, you were on the other side of the boundary stones, with Aeron leading you away.
You felt as if you were disconnected from your body. Aeron’s arms were around you, guiding you. You were vaguely aware that he was trying to say something, speak to you about what had happened. But you felt nothing. Heard nothing. A numbness had settled over you.
Only when you heard Benjicot call out your name did you snap.
You shoved against Aeron, tried to run back across the boundary stones to Blackwood land, back to your love, but Aeron held firm. You struggled against him, screaming and hitting and kicking, but your strength was no match for his.
You looked across the field to see Benjicot being held back by three men. He was snarling and raging, but the men held firm and forced him to his knees. You watched as Aly tried to speak to him, tried to calm him down.
But there was no calming Bloody Ben. Not now. Not when his lady had been taken from him.
When Benjicot saw that you were watching him, saw that you were struggling against your own constraints, he stopped. His eyes were wild and fierce and held the promise of retribution. With laboring breaths Benjicot shouted across the field, “I will come you for you, my lady!” He vowed. “I will always come for you!”
You sobbed at his words. Sobbed for the happiness and hope that you had felt only hours before. Sobbed for the future you might have shared together.
For the second time, you were forced to leave Benjicot behind in this accursed field. Only this time, the heartbreak was so much worse. You had gotten a taste of the impossible dream, gotten so close to getting everything you wanted.
Your dream had become a nightmare.
final author note: I know! I know! We have to suffer before things get better. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Love you babes xx
Hi love - and sorry if you've already answered this - but are you planning on continuing 'I love you. It's ruining my life '?Don't get me wrong, take all the time you need if u do! I'm just dreading the day you fall off the Benjicot train, because no one writes him like you do. Like that piece literally altered my brain chemistry, it's the best thing I've read on here in AGES 😭
Hi babe! Yes, I am planning on continuing “I love you. It’s ruining my life.” I’ve started writing part 4, but I have been traveling and sick, so it’s taking me longer to finish it than I thought! But I’m hoping it will be out next week. I think it will be 5 or 6 parts in total.
Thank you so much for loving my story! My hyper fixation over Benjicot/Davos still has not wavered, so I have other story ideas planned for him, don’t you worry. 💕💕
