COMPANION

Your words are intoxicating

In the turbulent realm of Westeros, amidst the political intrigue and power struggles, Benjicoot Blackwood and Brandon Bracken were known adversaries. Their families had been rivals for generations, each vying for influence and control in the Riverlands. But beneath the surface of their rivalry, Benjicoot harbored a secret obsession with Brandon that consumed him like wildfire.

From their first encounter at a grand feast in Riverrun, Benjicoot was captivated by Brandon's charismatic presence. Brandon was everything Benjicoot wasn't — charming, charismatic, and effortlessly garnering the attention of lords and ladies alike. It gnawed at Benjicoot's pride to see Brandon hold court with such ease while he struggled to gain even a fraction of the admiration.

Their rivalry manifested in various forms over the years. Whether it was competing in tournaments, vying for the favor of influential lords, or strategizing military maneuvers, Benjicoot always found himself one step behind Brandon. Despite his best efforts, Brandon seemed destined to outshine him at every turn.

But it wasn't just the rivalry that fueled Benjicoot's feelings; it was an intense jealousy that festered within him. He couldn't stand to see Brandon's attention diverted to anyone else, whether it was a beautiful noblewoman or a skilled swordsman. Whenever someone caught Brandon's eye, Benjicoot's heart burned with envy.

At court gatherings and feasts, Benjicoot would watch Brandon from afar, his gaze following him like a hawk. He despised the way Brandon effortlessly charmed the lords and ladies, his laughter echoing through the halls like sweet music. Benjicoot's fists clenched involuntarily whenever he saw Brandon's hand touch another's, his possessiveness growing with each passing moment.

One fateful evening, during a feast at Harrenhal, Benjicoot found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Brandon as he danced with Lady Ellyn of House Piper. The sight of Brandon's hand on Lady Ellyn's waist sent a surge of jealousy coursing through Benjicoot's veins. He excused himself from the table abruptly, unable to stomach the sight any longer.

Outside, beneath the moonlit sky, Benjicoot paced restlessly, his mind consumed with thoughts of Brandon. His feelings were a tumultuous mix of desire and resentment, a dangerous cocktail that threatened to unravel him completely. He couldn't bear the thought of Brandon belonging to anyone else, of sharing his attention with another.

As the night wore on, Benjicoot's jealousy reached its breaking point. He knew he had to confront Brandon, to lay bare the feelings that had tormented him for so long. With a determined stride, he sought out Brandon in the gardens, where he found him alone, gazing pensively at the stars.

"Brandon," Benjicoot began, his voice betraying the turmoil within him.

Brandon turned, surprised to see Benjicoot standing there. "Benjicoot? Is everything alright?"

Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Benjicoot took a step closer, his eyes burning with intensity. "I can't stand to see you with others, Brandon. Your attention, your smiles... they belong to me."

Brandon's brows furrowed in confusion. "Benjicoot, what are you saying?"

"I've watched you from afar, Brandon," Benjicoot continued, his voice trembling with emotion. "I've envied every smile you've bestowed on others, every touch of your hand. I can't bear the thought of you with anyone else."

Brandon took a cautious step back, his expression wary. "Benjicoot, this... this isn't like you. We're rivals, yes, but..."

"But it's more than that," Benjicoot interjected fiercely. "I love you, Brandon. I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you."

Silence hung heavy between them, the weight of Benjicoot's confession echoing in the quiet night. Brandon's eyes searched Benjicoot's face, grappling with the revelation. He had never imagined that Benjicoot's feelings ran so deep, so tumultuously.

"I... I don't know what to say," Brandon finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Benjicoot took a step closer, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch Brandon's arm. "Say you feel the same. Say you'll be mine, Brandon."

Brandon hesitated, torn between the familiarity of rivalry and the uncertainty of newfound emotions. "Benjicoot... I need time to think."

Heart sinking, Benjicoot withdrew his hand, his fingers curling into a tight fist. He had laid bare his heart, exposed his deepest desires, only to face rejection. The sting of Brandon's hesitation cut deeper than any blade.

"I understand," Benjicoot managed to say, his voice strained. "Take all the time you need."

With a heavy heart, Benjicoot turned and walked away, leaving Brandon standing alone in the moonlit garden. The cool night air did little to soothe the ache in his chest, the bitter taste of rejection lingering on his tongue.

In the days that followed, Benjicoot and Brandon maintained a tense truce, their interactions marked by awkward glances and strained politeness. The rift between them widened, fueled by unspoken words and unrequited longing.

But amidst the turmoil, Benjicoot couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that perhaps his confession had been a mistake. He had risked everything for the chance to be with Brandon, only to find himself adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

As time passed, Benjicoot resolved to bury his feelings deep within, to rebuild the walls around his heart that had crumbled in the wake of Brandon's rejection. He threw himself into his duties as heir to House Blackwood, burying himself in the intricacies of politics and warfare.

But no matter how hard he tried to bury the memories of Brandon's smile, they lingered like ghosts in the recesses of his mind. And deep down, Benjicoot knew that a part of him would always belong to Brandon, even if they were destined to remain rivals forevermore.