forget-me-not

🍃⚔️ — Have you seen Mace Tyrell's boy? The KNIGHT OF THE FLOWERS, they call him. Now there's a s o n any man would be proud to own to. Last tourney, he dumped the Kingslayer on his golden rump, you ought to have seen the look on Cersei's face. I laughed till my sides hurt.

[armouredrose]

— renly baratheon

it was entirely his own fault. if he had become a septon, perhaps packed his clothes away and gone off to live a life of colourless boredom, he wouldn’t be here now, blue eyes constantly flitting to loras every few moments - even from across the great hall. just then, he couldn’t think of a single good reason why they had left their chambers. renly could hear the telltale buzz of giggling and flirting, the way everyone’s heads immediately turned towards the knight of flowers when he entered a room - and how could he blame them? the stormlord smiled at the youngest tyrell son every chance he got: not the soft, intensely proud smile he had donned of late; not even the carefree smile he saved for their most comfortable moments. this one was a smirk of full intent, syrupy and sweet.

he had been talking to one of the selmy daughters, a sweet girl who had talked in circles about the knight of flowers. so naturally, renly had grinned his widest and asked her if she might want to be introduced to him. ( he couldn’t ask loras to dance and he couldn’t sit next to him - no, cersei would make sure of that before anything else. so he took his opportunities where he could get them. ) “ ah, ser loras! ” the stag greeted as if he hadn’t seen the knight mere hours ago and wouldn’t be kissing him senseless mere hours later. there was a wickedly fond smile on his face, and renly winked just because he could. and before anyone but loras could see him do it. “ have you met lord arstan’s daughter? she and i seem to be your biggest fans. ”

There were many things about the nature of his love for Renly that bothered him - the ways they could not be like other couples who adored each other never stopped hurting him. To be at this party and be having to measure the time he spent by Renly’s side, to be unable to dance with him, to have to act comfortable with the attention of women that was directed at him - none of it sat right. Especially considering this was the first large gathering he had been to since his rescue from the Silence, and he felt unsteady and vulnerable knowing he was not at his full strength. There was strength in the way he felt when he caught Renly’s eye, however, and he felt more like his old self in the moments he snatched meeting that gaze.

The Knight of the Flowers found himself smiling at the sight of his love coming towards him, though it faltered a little when he saw the girl trailing in his wake. “Lord Renly.” Loras smiled, a small bow of his head as was appropriate for the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands if not for the man he loved. “Lady Selmy. I don’t believe I’ve have the pleasure.” He was as comfortable with his act of chivalry as anything, and took the girl’s offered hand to brush a polite brush of his lips against her knuckles, though when he looked up his eyes were locked with Renly’s instead. “You flatter me, both of you.” Loras smiled, noticing that he’d made this girl blush just the way Renly’s wink had done to him. “Especially you, my lady. Such praises from a relative of Ser Barristan the Bold are highly prized. From Lord Renly, perhaps less so.” He teased, eyes sparkling with fondness as he looked upon the man he loved. “He is a fan of sparkly armor and tourney spectacle more than anything else, I fear.” 

[armouredrose]

— talla tarly

Talla and Loras had always shared a close friendship, but being kidnapped and held prisoner together had given them a familiarity and an intimacy that others would be hard-pressed to match. Her lips widened and she inclined her head as he moved aside for her to enter. Talla saw the stag embroidered on clothing and thought little of it, her gaze instead turning back to Loras. An eyebrow quirked and she bit her lower lip as if she was debating exactly what to tell him – it was a tease, of course, for they both knew she would tell him everything.

“Well,” she began, her tone excitedly dramatic. “As you know, Jon saved me on a dragon and left a trail of fire in his wake. I was most pleased to be proven right.” She was excited, that much was obvious, and she sat down in a chair, crossing her legs at the ankles. “I saw him afterwards. And, oh Loras, I kissed him.” Her cheeks pinked, but she was too excited to care and Talla continued on. “He kissed me back and I do not think there has ever been another moment so glorious in my entire life. I have peaked and if I were to die right this very moment, I do not think I could have reason to complain.”

Loras scoffed and rolled his eyes, though it was a solely fond gesture - one that might have been just as at home on his face in a conversation with Margaery, Garlan or Willas. They had known each other since they had been children - tall enough only to reach their father’s knees, but friends almost instantly given their similar ages. “Gods, how could I forget. What a bloody spectacle that was.” He griped, without malice, though it was not long before his teasing turned into a gawp of surprise as he sat down opposite her.

“You kissed him?!” Loras had heard her perfectly well, but such a development in Talla’s love life deserved reiterating. “Talla.” He laughed, partly in disbelief, partly in joy. “I am so happy to hear that - gods, how romantic.” As much as he had found the intensity of Jon’s rescue - dragons and all - a little much, it was awfully like something out of a song for her to have been saved by a handsome king on the back of a mythical beast, and to have been granted a kiss when safety was reached. “I know the feeling.” He smiled, grin so wide his cheeks hurt. “Do you think he shall grant you another?” 

[armouredrose]

— jon targaryen

jon stood at the end of the docks, letting the wind grab lightly at his hair and clothing. his eyes were cast toward the sky where the three dragons were spreading their wings, clearly loving the warmth of the south. ghost, however, was not loving the warmth of the south and was currently kept in the coolest part of the red keep that jon could find - one with nice cool stone to lay on and a breeze blowing through. his creatures seemed to pull at the two halves of him that he realized he had after he was named targaryen. how very different those halves were from each other, which often led to a conflict in his mind. which normally led to quiet moments like this where he could breathe. 

many unsullied solders stood surrounding the docks - practically lined down the entire thing and even blocking the path to jon. this was dangerous territory to be in and surely they all could tell how uncomfortable king’s landing made him. this was where he was supposed to be from — where jaime lannister killed the mad king. where joffrey almost killed ned stark. where sansa was held hostage. where cersei lannister currently lived. where the targaryens had laid legacy only to be murdered. where the few survivors fled… including dany — and jon was supposed to take it all back. the only time he had laid eyes on the iron throne was when cersei lannister was sitting in it. trying to make herself seem important. jon felt like the entire dinner was the two glaring at each other in hopes to intimidate the other… and the hatred sat in his chest, causing him to grow impatient.

the sound of metal moving had jon snapping from his thoughts but not moving to look and see who was coming. if the unsullied let them through without a word to jon, surely they could be trusted. as the person approached he caught their figure from the corner of his eye and averted his gaze.   ❝  i just needed to get out of the city for a moment.  ❞   was all he said. it also wasn’t a secret that jon was starting to feel suffocated in the city and the red keep. ever since the dinner, he had started to grow impatient with almost every little thing, which was why he was standing here. there had been little moments of light like robb’s wedding. he was happy for his brother and did his best to support him. then, of course, there was talla and any time he spent with her was a moment of light added to his life… but he couldn’t shake the city. the history. the war that was on hold while they were fed by the enemy.

the feast had been a lot for jon. then there was the tension between the starks, daenerys not at his side and, of course, cersei’s smug attitude. he wasn’t someone who had a temper on him and the fact he was becoming short tempered was a sign he needed alone time to recharge himself. so here he stood at the end of the docks. surely he could have gotten much farther away, but leaving the walls of king’s landing wasn’t the best idea because he wanted to grab his loved ones and never return. despite his dragon blood, he was of the north… and a northerner didn’t do well in the south… and a targaryen alone in the world was a terrible thing.

Loras had been curious about Jon Targaryen for a while now, ever since Talla had admitted to spending time with him. That curiosity had only doubled - no, tripled - when Talla had come to him and told him that the man that so many Westerosi were lauding as king had kissed her. There was an element of protectiveness, that some strange man was closing in on his dearest friend, but Loras was well aware of the fact that Talla was a grown woman, quite capable of making her own decisions and looking after herself. Not to mention that he knew her to be an excellent judge of character, and he had known her a long time.

The Knight of the Flowers had spent all of Cersei Lannister’s droll party sneaking looks at the dragon king whenever he remembered. He’d joked to Renly beside him that from the look of the look Jon was leveling at the Queen Regent, perhaps they had found somebody who hated the woman as much as they did. It hadn’t seemed appropriate to approach him at the event when he was surrounded by northmen and his supporters from the south, and honestly it did not seem appropriate to approach him now with enough Unsullied to occupy a small keep lining the path to him. Loras had not yet seen the dragon king alone, and for Talla, decided this was as good a chance as he was going to get. 

He agreed to surrender his sword and the knife at his belt to one of the Unsullied, though not without a precursory scowl at being separated from them. He disliked feeling vulnerable, and that was exactly how he felt with these strange soldiers watching his every move as a stranger approached their revered king. 

“Your grace.” He said, with a respectful nod of his head - Loras wondered if he would have given the same respect for a king his family did not recognize if there were not sharp spears in every angle of his periphery. “I came to thank you for your aid in the rescue, and to introduce myself - Ser Loras Tyrell.” Loras clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry to disturb your solitude, but I thought...” There was a wry, amused smile on his face. “Given your recent closeness to the Lady Talla, it would be best for us to know each other.” 

[armouredrose]

— margaery tyrell

If asked she would never deign to answer whether or not she had a favourite brother, finding the question quite impertinent when they all brought something so uniquely valuable to her life. In truth she would struggle to put any of their bonds into words but she knew without a doubt that missing Loras had felt as though she was missing a piece of herself. Somehow left without a limb. She had not quite realised it until he was back with her, a warm whole feeling overcoming her as they slowly made their way back to the quiet of the Tyrell camp. “I am so very relieved to hear that, I think I struggled to function without you near my side.” Most would not get such honesty from her but she had never felt a need to hide her emotions from Loras and perhaps that was why she had missed him so. That missing feeling of lightness that she gleaned from the freedom of expression. Though there was a smile on her lips, tears of relief still welled up in doe eyes as emotion threatened to overwhelm, leaving her lost for any eloquent words once again, settling for simplicity instead. “And I you.” 

Smile touches her lips at the mention of Renly, feeling privileged to know just how deep the bond between them truly went. She was quick to try to soothe her brother’s panic but saw little reason to lie to him either. “He was quite beside himself but I believe seeing you will heal any hurt that still lingers.” She knew that her own worry was already fading fast now that her brother was back by her side and could only imagine that the same would hold true for the Baratheon. Lightness infected her tone as she did her best to bring some more levity to the situation, quip leaving rosy lips. “I think that we proved that old adage that misery loves company quite true though.”

He had been so lucky to have been born a Tyrell - he was raised in the veritable cornucopia of the Reach, adored by his parents, watched over always by his grandmother, and had raised alongside his siblings who had formed so much of the man he was today. His heart swelled to be back alongside his sister, even in his current state, for this was a place he had always fit, like a little jigsaw piece next to its partner. They understood each other beyond words, and the mere sight of her lifted Loras’ spirits impossibly hight. “And how are you? Darling Mira told me they had come for you... I’m sorry I was not there to protect you both, but I am glad she is such a brave soul as she is, even if she did not deserve the ordeal she was put through.” Loras said, his voice quiet and full of discomfort. 

More discomfort still churned in his stomach at the state Renly must be in. He knew that man better than he knew himself, and there were high suspicions that a copious amount of alcohol had been called for as a coping mechanism. “I’m glad you two had each other for company, gods know I was worried sick for you both.” He plastered on a teasing smile that did not quite meet his eyes so soon after the trauma as it was. “Tell me, did he pour the first drink of thousands? Or did you, darling sister?” Loras pressed a desperately fond kiss to Margaery’s hair, a gesture of complete relief to be back amongst those he loved and away from that stinking, roiling boat full of vile men. 

[drift-wood96-deactivated2019061]

[armouredrose]

— talla tarly

It was not difficult for Talla to find where Loras was staying, though she was certain to avoid Lord Tyrell for the time being. She had not seen him in person since she had slapped him and her duties as a Lady in Waiting to the Princess Daenerys meant that she was, mostly, kept out of sight of the other houses. Now, however, she was free for the afternoon and she had wanted little more than to see Loras; they had always been close but being kidnapped together had bonded them in a way that no one else would truly understand. Talla knocked at the chamber door, well aware that he might not be alone, her hands clasped in front of her abdomen.

When the door opened, her lips curved upwards into a wide smile and she reached up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “You are looking much better,” she exclaimed, thumb moving up to wipe away the mark her lip paint had left behind. “I am so pleased to see you.” Eyes flicked up to Loras’ and though her gaze was no less pleased, it softened. “I have something to tell you. And you will be the first to know, aside from any…bystanders.”

Loras was overjoyed to see Talla standing at the door - he was alone so much of the time now as he rode out recovery both physical and mental, between nights with Renly and frequent visits from his family, of course. But it had been too long since he’d seen Talla - rescued by her bloody dragon king just as she’d foretold - and much better to see her in this state than the one they had last parted in.

“As are you.” He smiled, glad to see her safe and well, and thoroughly endeared by her fondness for him as she wiped the pigment from his cheek in a way that most anybody else would never have been allowed. A golden brow arched in curiosity, and he stepped aside to let Talla in. Out of habit, he thought to dart to remove Renly’s clearly stag embroidered clothing hanging off the back of a chair, but within a moment he realised there was no need to conceal a secret he had let go of to his oldest friend. “Come on then. Out with it, I can hardly bear to wait. Gods know I love a secret, especially one that has you smirking like that.” 

[armouredrose]

— renly baratheon

at some point - perhaps in a few hours, days, weeks - he would tell loras just how adrift he had felt without him; that he had devolved into a drunken shell of himself, violent and angry and desperate to find revenge at the bottom of every bottle he reached out for. he would admit it to loras because it was like admitting it to himself, how all he wanted to do was drag euron greyjoy under his own ship until he was barely recognisable anymore. because renly had never been a warrior, but he would bleed all seven kingdoms just to get the knight of flowers back. but he wasn’t going to worry loras with any of that, not now. he was going to hold on to him and make him feel safe and thank every god out there for bringing him back. that was the least he could do, wasn’t it? 

“ i know you did, ” he countered around a collapsing laugh, watery and mumbled into loras’ curls. “ and you were incredible, but i refuse to ever lose you - ever again. ”  there would be time later - to thank him, to chide him, to make him promise he wouldn’t do it again and be rebuffed every time. there would be time to wake up in the middle of the night and make damn certain he was right next to him instead of in the ironborn’s clutches. but right then, renly just wanted to hold him close. it broke his heart, detangling the knotted skein of his own composure, to see his favourite person in the world cry. so he wrapped his arms around loras; tight enough to promise that he would never let him go ever again, but not enough to ever hurt him. “ you’re safe, you’re safe. ” he cupped his head, uncaring of any blood or dirt or grime that might be there, uncaring of who might come in and see them: he just rocked loras back and forth, fingers curled into the tatters of his shirt “ i’m so sorry this happened, my love. i’m so, so sorry. ”

dragging in a shallow breath, renly pulled away just the slightest to sit next to him - softly wiping away loras’s tears as they came; a chaste kiss pressed to his forehead, his brow, his temple. his hands reached for the other’s familiar ones, the pads of his thumbs gentle against his knuckles. “ they did this to you? ” he asked, gaze unfocused through tears he couldn’t blink away. it made him sick to think anyone had hurt loras, to think some faceless soldier had seen the knight in pain for days on end and never thought to help him. all of a sudden, renly circled his arms around him, holding him as close as he could. “ no one, okay? no one ever hurts you and gets away with it - no one. not while i breathe air. ” this was loras - his loras. the man who was as beautiful after a ragged tourney as he was in the early hours of the morning; the man who was the strongest person renly had ever met. how dare they? “ darling, tell me the maesters have treated you. ”

Loras had always felt like an equal with Renly despite the difference in age, his status as Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and the role he had played as his squire for so many years. Their love made all of that nothing, and Loras knew he was drawn into Renly’s arms without pity or anger or judgement. It was safe here, letting the beautiful fabric of the stag’s shirt muffle his sobs and dry his tears as he rode out the wake of his trauma. He couldn’t be sure how fast time passed as he was allowed to drop the facade of the handsome, valiant, brave Knight of the Flowers that he had worked to hard to uphold for the others on the ship, and came back to himself once more - a young man who had only seen twenty five namedays and very little of the world within them other than what Renly had shown him. His entire life, all his happiness, Renly held it just as he held him now, and despite the ordeal he had just been through, it seemed okay for now at least. 

A hiccupping sigh escaped him as Renly moved to sit beside him, and his eyes squeezed shut as Renly wiped away his tears and kissed his sobs quiet. He felt safe appearing vulnerable in front of the man he adored, but that did not mean it was something he enjoyed when so much of his vanity and arrogance sat behind complete confidence. Loras bit down on his bottom lip and nodded. To sustain injuries in a battle or at a tourney, there was pride in that, evidence of a fight fell fought even if it was not won - there was something humiliating to Loras about the injuries he bore now, the broken fingers and fractured ribs were only evidence that another man had been strong enough to overpower him. There was a little solace in the fact that Loras knew they had broken his fingers to stop him being able to fight back, and there was joy in being perceived rightly as a threat, just as there was solace in the knowledge that he sustained them so that Renly could sit here unscathed. That meant more to him than any amount of pain that could be inflicted. 

“Not while you breathe air.” Loras echoed, comforted to his very core by those words. “I am lucky to have you, you are all I thought about to keep hope, and the only thing I was sure of was that you’d come for me eventually, just like I’m sure you’ll always look after me.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Renly’s lips. “They have been, and they will likely be back soon.” The Reach was prosperous and wealthy and possessed the finest maesters into which Loras’ recovery had been entrusted - they had rebroken and set his fingers so that he would be able to wield his sword properly again, administered medicines for his myriad of cuts and bruises, and given him milk of the poppy to help the pain in his ribs though it sat, unconsumed, in its vial beside the bed seeing as Loras had insisted on waiting to take it until he’d seen Renly. He wanted to be in his right mind for this. “They say I will be just fine, in time, and with rest. I sustained nothing lasting; so long as my fingers heal properly and do not effect my ability to hold a sword or a lance I shall be happy.” His voice was quiet, but there was relief in it. “Now all I wish is not to be covered in dirt, and to sleep. With you beside me.”

[armouredrose]

— bryce caron

Smiles had died on his features years ago but the ghost of one flickers across his lips at the Tyrell’s teasing. “It would hardly to do have you die from shock after everything if I did.” With a nod to what the other man was saying he did his best to follow along despite paying very little attention to the politics that surrounded him. “Talla?” The name was said softly when he was certain that he should know whom it belonged to but his confusion didn’t last long before a brow arched at the other knight’s choice of words. “Is he King now?” 

Words left his lips without thinking, so quick to establish distance between them once again. “I can’t claim to have thought much about it.” It felt wrong somehow to shrug off Loras’ thanks when he knew that for all of their differences, they had just as many similarities. They were both proud in their own ways and gratitude was far from easy to express. And so he mellowed slightly, more words leaving his lips still with gruffness but a touch more sincerity. “You would do the same for me.”

Huff that might have once been laughter was given in response when he had scarcely hear of anything else from the Baratheon. “He did. Along with dozens of other pieces of information. He is glad to have you back.” There was a weight to his words that silently added on the sentiment that he too was glad. He struggled to voice things when caring left himself vulnerable but he suspected that The Knight of Flowers had begun to see that there was more to his words than simple bluntness. “Though it seems as though you have left me without a capable sparring partner for a while?”

“I can think of worse ways to die.” Loras laughed, though with the still constant ache in his ribs it was only a quiet thing, and not the usual head-thrown-back teasing that he was used to with Bryce. It didn’t strike him as strange that Bryce couldn’t immediately place Talla - he was so withdrawn, and in all fairness Loras worked hard to keep his life at Storm’s End and his life at Highgarden as separate as he could. It struck him as dangerous to blur the lines between his family and a life that he preferred with Renly but could never truly have. “Talla. She’s my friend from back home - Randyll Tarly’s daughter.” He’d like to say that he thought they might get on, but in all honesty he couldn’t see it happening any time soon. “She seems to think so but alas, a crown, a handsome face and a gaggle of fire-breathing lizards does not a king make.” 

A fond smile came to Loras’ face. “I would. Though you have never quite been so vain as I am.” He scrunched up his nose. “A few more years in close proximity to Renly and you might start getting near through exposure.” It was a small mercy, to not have to step around courtesies and titles and lies with Bryce at least, who had been a part of his life so long that there was no need for any kind of secret like the one he and Renly kept from most everyone else. Bryce was stoic, and brusque, and carried a storm-cloud with him wherever he went, but gods was he trustworthy, and Loras would bestow upon him most anything if the need arose. 

It was one thing to know that Renly had wanted so desperately to have him back, and another to hear from Renly himself that he was missed, but to have a third person tell him that it had been on Renly’s tongue how relieved he was to have him back. It was nothing new, but it warmed his heart nonetheless, especially when Bryce’s words hung so heavy in the air they could only have been made for two. “It is good to be back amongst friends.” Was all Loras said in acknowledgement, not wanting to make the knight of Nightsong uncomfortable. “I’m afraid so. For a few weeks more at least you’ll have to make do with whatever poor excuses for swordsmen the rest of the kingdoms have brought along.” Loras said with a frustrated sigh at the voice of the maester’s ringing in his head telling him his fingers and ribs needed time and rest. “I swear, I’m going to go crazy before then. I truly have never known such fucking boredom.”

[yvvaine]

everything asoiaf ♕ favorite romantic pairings

L O R E N L Y  (Loras Tyrell & Renly Baratheon)

[ofstormlands]

@armouredrose

[armouredrose]

— bryce caron

Days had past since the kidnapped had been returned to them after a carefully orchestrated attack from the mind of some Westerlander had been carried out. He supposed that they perhaps owed some thanks but he had seen how they had all put petty squabbles and their own egos above uniting until Renly had spoken up. Perhaps it was his own bias but he thought if anyone should get some credit it was the Baratheon. If he hadn’t spoken up he believed that there was every chance there would still be arguments now instead o the the rescue having been carried out successfully.

He knew its success meant that Loras Tyrell was back within the camp again although likely under the watchful eye of his family and their maesters but he had not considered going to see him himself. Although that was something of a lie, the notion had crossed his mind only for him quickly decide that he did not wish to see someone he almost considered a friend in that sort of state. Knowing what he did of the other man’s pride, he was certain that the Tyrell would not have thanked him for the visit either.

Busy unsaddling his horse, a glance over his shoulder told him that he had no need to seek the man out when he had already found his way back to their camp. “I see you are back then.” Gruff, blunt words left his lips betraying none of the relief that he felt that the Knight of Flowers had emerged from his capture whole enough to recover. When he did privately acknowledge such feelings he dismissed them as simple relief for his Ruling Lord and claimed that it was only selfishness that he would not have to deal with a grieving Baratheon. 

Loras had always been impatient and unable to sit still for longer than it took to realise he was bored. It had been some sort of nightmare when the maesters had said he best remain bedridden for weeks yet, to let his body rest and his ribs heal. It had already been almost seven days, and though he’d had regular visits from his family, and from Renly, the confines of his tent had already become mind-numbing enough that he braced himself against the ache in his chest and had snuck out when old Maester Theron hadn’t been looking. The man had been loyal to the Tyrells for years, he should have known by now from experience that turning a blind eye on Loras was unwise. 

His gait was not so even an fluid at usual, but he managed fine enough. The fresh air and the bustle of the camp was already doing wonders for his happiness, and that was even before he spotted the familiar figure of one of his greatest friends in the world. “Gods, Caron, don’t act so excited to see me.” Loras teased, knowing all too well that though Bryce did not often know the way to verbalise things, that that did not mean he did not feel them. 

“But yes, I am back - turns out it take more than a crew of stinking pirates and a week listening to Talla prattle on about the Targaryen king to kill me.” The ordeal had rattled him to his very core, and it was not something he expected to forget any time soon no matter how much he wanted to rid all memories of it from his mind. “Thanks for, um, holding off on coming to visit. I appreciated the space... it was all just.. a bit much. I’m sure Renly passed that on...” 

[armouredrose]

— margaery tyrell

Usually so eloquent and never short of words, The Little Rose had found herself quite speechless in recent days unless it had been to encourage the rescue effort or plead with others to do something. If she had to sum it up in one word she would find it quite impossible but all the same, she thought torture might be quite fitting. Heart had pounded in her chest as she had waited for the rescue party to return and as soon as they had hit shore there had been no keeping her back, immediately making her way towards her brother. “Loras.” Tentatively and with as much care as she held within her, she embraced him gently, murmuring as she did. “I thought you were lost to us. I do not know what I would have done.” 

As someone who had spent most of her life under the scrutiny of others she was now almost immune to their gazes but she had no wish for them to take any amount of joy or satisfaction from her brother’s injury. Stepping back slightly she tucked herself under one of his arms as gently as she could to support him, soft suggestion leaving newly rosy lips. “Come, let us get you somewhere more peaceful.”

Never in his life had he been so happy to see his sister. All those nights in the hold of that ship, he had clung tight to his memories with those he loved - so many of those memories featured Margaery. His kindred spirit, his most loyal confidant, the person who had been there for him long before even Renly. “It would have taken more than that to be rid of me, Mar.” Loras managed a laugh through trying to hold back tears, though his voice grated with fatigue and the rasp of dehydration. “Gods, I am so happy to see you, sister.” 

As he had expected, Margaery knew exactly what he needed, and he was grateful not to be watched any longer. He wanted to lie down, to have a maester see to his injuries, and bask in the comfort of being in the familiar, constant company of his family. He pressed a weak excuse for a kiss to her dark hair and let her help him towards the rows of green and gold tents flying the rose banner of Highgarden. When they were out of earshot of the masses, he turned his head and murmured the question that had been plaguing him since he’d woken up on that ship. “Renly... is he alright, Mar? I didn’t see what happened to him... when the attack happened...” Loras’ mind raced with a panic that was obvious in his words - where is he, why is he not here, did they hurt him even after I did as they asked?

[armouredrose]

— @roseofhighgardcn​​

Loras could barely think with all the chaos going on around him, especially when every face he searched was not one of the few he wished to see. Renly, or his family - Willas, Garlan, Leonette, but especially Margaery, who would whisk him away somewhere quiet as though she could read his mind, and get him all the things he needed without even being asked. He ached for the gentle sound of her voice, and the effortless weight of her beside him, even as a soldier in Tyrell colors put an arm under his and began supporting his weight. As broken as Loras felt, he refused to be carried back to his family on a stretcher in front of all these people, stubborn as he had always been. 

Still, that pride could not stop the sound of relief that left his lips when Margaery’s familiar dark head of hair emerged from the crowd of Tyrell men, the masses parting like a valley to let her through. “Mar...” He called, eyes glassy, but unable to manage more as he clung to consciousness.

[armouredrose]

—  renly baratheon

it had only been seven days; seven mornings and seven nights, spaced apart by moments he couldn’t remember and hadn’t prepared for, but it had somehow only been seven days. and for the very first time in his life, renly had felt been faced with a world where he had nothing left to lose - because without loras, he could see nothing but blind rage and shadows looming at every corner. maybe they would never stand at the fore of a sept and exchange vows, but they had done so many times over in the hidden spaces between them; their promises quiet and yet so damn loud. it wasn’t just love that existed between them, not anymore. it was something bigger, something that didn’t have a name, something that felt a lot like taking a deep breath and feeling the sunshine against his skin. so renly had waited as impatiently as he could manage - fingers clasped around the rose pin until they near bled - when news of the successful rescue came. 

he barely knew how he got to the tyrell camps, how he pushed through a wave of people whose faces he didn’t even try to place, how he stayed on his feet when he caught sight of one face he knew only too well. but that was loras: he might have looked so far from the loras he knew better than himself, but that was his loras. it took everything not to reach out and pull the knight into his arms immediately. “ leave us - now, ” the stormlord said in a tone that brooked no argument - and even as his voice wavered, he didn’t care. he didn’t care if anyone took one look at him at put the pieces together, not in that moment. “ please. ” it was more of a plea than anything else, but they left anyway; the sound of their shuffling barely audible over the roar of his own heartbeat. 

leaning in, renly curled a hand against the nape of loras’ neck, forehead pressed to his. “ you stopped fighting back - for me. ” it was barely above a whisper, shaky and disbelieving. he took a closer look at him - cuts and bruises and dirt and blood. and he couldn’t stop himself from gingerly pulling the knight closer, pressing a gentle kiss into his hair. “ but i can’t live without you, loras - i won’t do it. and i won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”

Loras felt entirely numb - he’d felt numb when he’d heard the sound of the dragons in the air, and when Theon’s brother’s men had come for him, even when he’d been delivered, delirious and broken, into the arms of his family and their loyal maesters. He had barely heard a word the kind man had said to him as he checked him over, dressing his wounds and trying to lift his spirits with talks of how he remembered dressing the scrapes on Loras’ knees when he’d come crying after climbing out of the window to avoid his lessons. All he wanted was Renly, there was nothing else that could console him after the traumas of the week that had passed.

He knew he couldn’t ask for him, not really. But he had faith that he would come. He had always come, and Loras knew that was the way it would always be. Loras’ head was bowed, the usually proud Knight of the Flowers had been brought to his knees by this ordeal and the reality that it was over, that he was home, that he was safe had yet to kick in. Safety was the warm haven of Renly’s richly canopied bed at Storm’s End, it was the tight embrace of his arms, the light of his smile when he sent it to Loras across a crowded room. He was home more than Highgarden was anymore, and when he looked up to see his love entering the tent, a sense of safety melted over him like warm rain. He was self conscious of his crooked fingers, and the blood and dirt that covered his skin and had clumped in his hair, but the relief of seeing the man he loved made all that seem small. 

It felt like all his limbs were made of butter, so he let Renly come to him, his eyes already glassy with joy at seeing his love safe and in one piece. Tears streamed down his cheeks as Renly held their foreheads together. “I did what I had to do.” Loras replied, his voice quiet but resolute as he was wrapped up in Renly’s arms, safe. “I know you won’t, I know you won’t darling, gods, I am so happy to see you.” He pressed his face to Renly’s chest and sobbed, his body wracking with sobs that made his ribs scream. 

[armouredrose]

“I’m someone you maybe might love.” ( renly to loras )

“Stop it.” Loras whined, trying his best not to look over his shoulder at Renly as he reluctantly dressed to go out onto the training yard. He knew this strategy - the ‘I love you’s’ and the ‘you adore me’s’ and the myriads of assertions of affection that Renly employed at times like these. “Saying that’s unfair because you’re so hard to resist.” 

There was truly no sight Loras loved more than Renly in that bed - kiss-bitten and pale skinned with his hair a mess the way it never was anywhere else, and the dark green velvet sheets stark against him. 

“I told Bryce I’d meet him early. I’m sorry. You know he needs distracting these days.” Loras was more trying to convince himself than Renly, as he chewed on his lip and debated how much he wanted to be dumped onto his back in the dust by Bryce so close after sun-up when being dumped on his back by Renly was clearly an option from the look in his love’s eyes. 

The knight drew in a shallow sigh, took a pained look out the window and then reached behind his head without hesitation to pull his shirt off so that he could dive right back into bed with his poorly fastened trousers already slipping down his hips. “You’re right, you are someone I maybe, might love, but I assure you, this better be worth my while because Bryce is going to rip me a new one when I see him later, my darling.” 

lorde’s melodrama ask memestatus: accepting 💌

[armouredrose]

🍃⚔️ — theon greyjoy

There seemed enough reason not to slink into the void of hopelessness just yet. Loras’ words shed a little light on an otherwise dark and gloomy situation. “Together then.” Theon said with a small smile. “We will find a way out of this.” It was not a promise he could make, but if a window of opportunity came, he would take advantage of it to do whatever it was he could. While they were at sea, there was little reason to fight back, but the moment they came ashore they would stand a chance. Relying solely on their friends and family would not be enough.

It was wise of them to damage Loras’ hand, as much as Theon hated to admit it, and with bones broken in multiple places the knight would not stand much chance against a ship of Ironborn. Should he show signs of improvement, Euron might just take measures to keep those bones crushed beyond repair. “Then I urge you to rest.” Theon scolded lightly, the heat of his anger rushing forward at what their captors had done to Loras already. Somehow…he would make them pay–Gods help them all if he got his hands on a weapon. “Stay awake if you must, but at the very least lean against me to lessen the strain on yourself.” 

Theon tested the hand that had been stomped upon in an effort to force him to drop his blade. It felt swollen, terribly sore, but nothing beyond that. “My head got the worst of it.” He admitted, knowing there was an open wound there from the feeling of blood sticking in his hair. “But nothing broken as far as I can tell.” He was fortunate, or perhaps Euron made it a point he be brought in unspoiled. Either way, he was capable of fighting still, even more so if he could get this pestering throbbing in his head to go away.

His shoulder was another matter, but he took it a good sign he could still move his arm despite the pain it caused him. As long as he didn’t shift it too much, or Loras didn’t attempt to move frequently against him, it was tolerable.

Loras’ fingers may be broken, and the ironborn might have it in their heads that they’d kept themselves safe by rendering him unable to fight back, but they seriously overestimated his sense of self preservation. He’d fight tooth and nail to protect these people now that they were all in this mess together, until he had no breath left in him. 

He let out a little breath of laughter. “You’re awful bossy, Greyjoy.” Loras said, realising they weren’t so different for the thousandth time. In fact, as Theon insisted he lessen the strain on his beaten body, Loras realised he had all the makings of a knight despite his roguish bravado - honour, courage, and even a version of chivalry that reflected his upbringings as both a kraken and a direwolf.

When Theon mentioned the blow to his head, Loras looked up to gauge the extent of the injury. He tried not to cringe, but even in the darkness of the hold he could see the tell-tale red glisten of blood in the youngest kraken’s auburn hair. “Thank the gods you haven’t suffered more, I might be relying on you to be my knight in shining armour at this rate.” Anger surged in him that anyone would hurt this man who had been so kind to him, and to others - the Stark contingent had been at Highgarden a long time, and Loras had seen the easy way Theon laughed and smiled at most anyone. He’d make these stinking fucking traitors that manned this ship pay for this, he swore it silently to the Warrior from where he sat.

The sound of footsteps coming towards them again made Loras’ blood boil with anger and his heart race with fear all at once. It was not unusual in him for the anger to bubble stronger, and he did nothing to mask his stubborn disdain for the lot he had been dealt even as a crew-member emerged out of the gloom. 

[armouredrose]

🍃⚔️ — arianne martell

she was angry. she could not find herself to cry or mourn or tire herself out with worry, but she was angry. arianne knew her father would remind her to keep her head about her - to not give way to impulse and doing something she would inevitably be made to regret. but the princess could not help but wonder why they had taken her: the others were part of this war, part of houses that had staked claims and shown their colours. she didn’t the greyjoys beyond maron’s youth and unfamiliar names. why would anyone take her?

she was a seething mess of emotions, but arianne drew a shaky breath as she climbed onto the deck of the ship; eyes roaming over dark skies she could not recognise. she did not know these stars. it had been longer than a day now, and the further away they sailed, the angrier she became. the gentle rock of the ship was making her feel sick. noticing loras tyrell, she sidled up next to him, leaning over the rail. how did one make small talk when they were hostages? 

“ i think you should have this, ” arianne managed hoarsely, sliding over the blade she had pulled from her bodice. uncle oberyn had mentioned willas tyrell to be a good man, told her to think well of him despite the animosity between their house. but he had also told her that the youngest tyrell son was a gifted knight, whistling lowly as daemon sand recounted seeing the knight at a melee. she had little skill with weapons, but she had a vial of poison stashed away in her silks all the same. “ before i end up doing something we’ll all regret. ”

Loras did his best to snatch what little rest he could get between the constant fear and the sinister spots of pain all over his body. He found himself pining for Highgarden, for Storm’s End, seven hells, he’d even take those miserable years at King’s Landing over this. Anything. The constant rolling of the ship, the dirt and the blood that still clung to his skin, and the thick air of terror amongst them was almost impossible to endure when the outcome of all this was so uncertain. 

He knew that Willas would have men looking for him, and Renly too. He knew that every soul here had powerful families behind them who would not stop until they were found - but Euron Greyjoy was a volatile man, and the sea was an impossibly large place to search. As the blade was slid into his possession, Loras hid it in against the waistband of his pants under his shirt so that it wold stay hidden, checking over his shoulder to make sure their exchange hadn’t been seen by any of their captors. He felt some small flicker of hope that was more than he’d had in days.

“How do you have that?” Loras whispered, amazed that she’d managed to keep it hidden all this time. He managed a quiet laugh. “I assure you, if anyone here is capable of doing something we’ll all regret, it’s me. I’ve never been know for my patience or foresight. But thank you. I’ll do my best to put it to good use.” His green eyes turned to watch the Dornishwoman that tradition dictated he despise. Tradition had never been his forte, and empathy was far too much in the way of anything like that now. “How are you holding up, princess? I’m sorry you have had to suffer this.” 

[aryaorarentya]

renly:

renly had decided, with no pause and even less patience, that this was what all seven hells sounded like: both arya and gendry at the same time. it was just like robert and stannis to leave him to pick up the broken fragments of political mayhem they had callously left behind in their wakes. he was born a third son, he wasn’t supposed to be dealing with any of this. but at least loras was here to keep him from losing his mind. “ you know, i would like to remind you that yelling at me in that pitch is doing nothing to help your cause, ” renly bit out testily at the stark daughter, his arms crossed over his chest and just a hint of exasperation bleeding into his voice. “ but since gendry has baratheon blood, he’s not going anywhere outside the stormlords’ protections - that was a suggestion, i assure you. ”

arya:

“You’re so full of shit, Renly.” Arya seethed. Gendry might have blue eyes and black hair, but that didn’t make him a Baratheon. Even if that fat, drunken oaf had been Gendry’s father. He was still a bastard and not of any use to Renly in his stupid political games. The Red Woman valued king’s blood. At least that was the rumor of why Stannis had burned his wife alive, but even Renly wouldn’t turn Gendry over to her, right? “Gendry can go wherever the hell he wants, and he doesn’t want to stay with you, you prick. Right?” She turned her eyes to the blacksmith, imploring him to back her up.

gendry:

There had not been enough days that separated Gendry acknowledging that instead of being just a boy from Flea Bottom, he was the bastard son of Robert Baratheon. There was a lot to process and it took complete and agonizing control to not punch Renly as soon as he was done telling Gendry about his new identity. He didn’t know what any of it meant, not even wanting the damn titles or lands that went with it. All he wanted was to leave the Baratheons and have nothing to do with him for the rest of his days. “I think you’re hardly in a position to make decisions about my welfare anymore. Stannis is doing fine on his own, isn’t he, my lord? Or should I address you as my Uncle now?" 

loras:

Loras found himself amused by the kind of bickering that was so rare these days within his own family, and felt a little like an intruder in a conversation that had very little to do with him. Of course, the wry smile on his features was telling enough about his amusement in the situation. “I don’t see why he should not - is Lord Renly not the closest relative you have? Other than Stannis of course, but I think you can all agree on the merits of not counting him.” Loras said to nobody in particular, pressing the matter perhaps more than he should have. 

Keep reading