Bound by Blood and Fire | Benjicot Blackwood [HOTD]

pt vi

A/N: hi!!! popping in to forewarn that i threw in a slightly suggestive scene at the end just a heads up--  I also have chapter seven coming this Friday at 9:01am EST which will be the wedding finally. i want to preface that the next chapter will contain smut, for anyone who is not comfortable with that, anyways!! I have also included a link here and on my profile to the inspo playlist as previously shared on my Tumblr: platinumshawnn

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He could still see his face when he slept.

Benjicot spent a better part of his youth in the woods beyond Raventree on hunting trips and generally just wandering; mapping out every corner of their land on the days he had off from duties, such as training or shadowing his father's council meetings as a boy. It was a place of comfort for him, where he had never experienced trouble finding sleep whenever he found himself camped there, and yet for the past two nights, he had been lucky to even find an hour of sleep without being startled awake. Suddenly, it felt like every chirp of a cricket or snap of a twig from a deer that calmly strolled through the trees in the distance had him on edge and jumping awake and frozen in fear; worried that it was the Brackens coming for him or his father to drag him back to their home. It did not bring him any relief to know that Emrys had been suspended from patrolling the lands in the meantime, since returning and word reaching Raventree of Rodrik's death, leaving the grounds nearly unguarded beyond a couple of young boys whom Benjicot knew could barely hold a sword.

Emrys could only sneak to him once a night, creeping out after dark once he knew that Samwell was asleep — even then, doing so involved bribes to sneak out with the boys.

Even when he had managed to find sleep, it was plagued by nightmares of Rodrik's face -- his eyes, wide and dead as he laid face down in the mud after landing with a thud that echoed in his mind. Benjicot had been covered in Bracken blood as he, Emrys, and Davos dragged him back over the boundaries into their land, whilst Benjicot had nearly been swept away by the river, choking on mouthfuls of water that threatened to take him away in its angry grasp, his vision blurred. They had nearly lost Rodrik in the midst, slipping on mud and grunting with exertion as they dragged his body from the waters and back to dry land. He could still hear Emrys' complaint as he was dragged through the grass, "This bloody boy weighs a ton."

Benjicot had insisted that they at least provide him the decency of rolling him onto his back, rather than face down, earning a confused glare from Davos, who was beyond exhausted at that point. It was then that he had seen the damage he had done. Sliced from collarbone to pelvis, a large gash from his throat and down his belly, his house colours torn down the front. Benjicot had fumbled to undo his cloak and cover him, leaving his face exposed for once someone came in search of him — he knew it would only be a matter of time.

Davos had grabbed his House pin from his body as they had begun to leave and pressed it into Ben's hand as he brushed past him to retreat to Blackwood land, muttering something about a 'trophy', as if he should be proud but Benjicot was anything but proud of himself. He hadn't returned the pin to its owner, though. The pin had remained in his tent, finding himself staring at it every so often, whenever he woke up from his nightmares or whenever it caught the light in the corner of his eye which felt like every couple of hours. It was a reminder of what he had done.

Benjicot had jolted awake again after falling asleep after supper, nodding off only because he was so exhausted, it physically pained him. Again, Rodrik's face was there behind his eyelids, that horrified expression on his face as he fell, choking on his blood— this time, he was haunted by the image of his sister behind him, screaming and sobbing as she watched on, unable to do anything, her hands at her belly as she cried into the grass. He had tripped out of his makeshift bed on the ground, bolting out of his tent and hardly making it outside before he had fallen to his knees, hunched over on all fours as he threw up the fish and water he had barely managed to stomach earlier; coughing as he choked up the contents. His fingers dug into the grass, red-faced and panting as he dry heaved for a few moments, his body convulsing with effort as he leaned into an elbow; caring little if he got any on him.