willas, garlan and margaery were all as good at politics as the next, maybe garlan wasn’t quite on the level of the other two but loras was far below them when it came to working the courts. he was a knight, a glorious image like something straight out of a story as far as everyone was concerned because they only time he was seen was at tournaments when he looked like that and it could be pulled off. the truth was he was prone to sulking, with a short fuse and a spoilt nature who’s emotions always lay on the surface, very thinly mask and prone to cracking.
his mask was not as good as his siblings and now, when it had to be the best it ever was, his grief made is as tightly stretched as it has ever been. it was only the possible danger towards margaery that kept him in line…..most of the time.
“ i do not think that reminding him of my sister’s previous husband would be the wisest of moves, do you? ” came his reply, the sarcasm dripping from his tone was clear despite his attempts to keep his mask in place. still there’s a small amount of amusement in him as he hears her words, instead of the outrage that he could have thought about. seeing through someone else’s front was uncommon in kings landing, but times like this made it clear to the knight of flowers that she was newer to this than anyone else.
it’s almost like he doesn’t register the condolences that came from the young girl in front of him. either enraged or numb, there was no in between with him now and no one can understand his pain, his suffering, and in the space of two sentences loras goes from the latter to the former. it’s kept behind clenched teeth and the raging fire that sparked into life in his eye but still very noticeable, his mask of content politeness had a number of cracks, especially when talking about renly. especially when talking about what people now said about the old peach king.
“ i want to take on the world. ” he spoke after a while, voice almost void of emotion in his rage and scarily low and quiet. it didn’t directly answer her question but he had no answer for that. “ i want it to strike down everyone who ever said or will say any of the filth that is spoken of him, i want to watch their blood run down the halls until it stains the stones red, i want to watch them fall and then maybe they would understand my pain.”
the worlds fell from his lips before he could stop them and the way that he speaks shows no sign of joking but he knows that these words could incriminate him slightly. if anyone asked his anger was entirely directed against stannis and the stormlands banners who had defected to his side; he would not voice directly how much he loathed the lannisters too, at least not to the stark girl. this could all be a trap for his family, could all be putting margaery in danger by speaking like this, but he sees no reason why the stark girl would want to do the lions’ bidding more than she would want to do the tyrells. they had not beat her.
“ but i cannot… ” loras finished after a pause, the rage in his eyes having vanished into a dead and emotionless look. such was his grief that allowing it to consume him would cause him to crumple and fall apart. “ margaery will be queen and it is my job to protect the royal family. ”
“No . . . that would not be wise.” She agrees in what could almost be registered as a near defeated tone. Nor would she want his grace to be reminded, not want to put Lady Margaery in harms way after everything the beautiful brunette had done for her. She would be an incredible queen, one that was kind & would treat the realm as it deserved. She had been kind to Sansa, her presence making King’s Landing the tiniest bit bearable ( and the hushed promises of Willas Tyrell . . . an escape from her cage. How she longed for that day. ) Margaery was like a sister she had always dreamed of, so no, she did not want to endanger her.
Did not want to make anyone endure the torment she has gone through. Despite the public beatings & humiliation, there was still a kindness in her heart. No one deserved what she had been forced through ( no one was a lie, the Lannisters deserved it ) Sometimes it leads her to wonder on her own capabilities. If she had it in her to take vengeance. Once upon a time she had dreamed of pushing Joffrey to his death, didn’t even matter if she fell with him . . . but someone had stopped her. Even if they hadn’t, would she have followed through?
It was an answer she did not know. Hatred may burn through her veins, but she was not a KILLER. Looking at Ser Loras, a man she saw as the epitome of knighthood, all she can think of now is red. All she can think is of how many he has killed, on the field of battler or not. And thus comes more disillusionment, now much easier to take than the first. As if she had grown use to having her world turned upside down.
His tone can make her believe of his capabilities. She watches, hooked on by his words as a shiver runs down her back. There’s a feeling of empathy, perhaps they were both caged here. Both had someone stolen from them, and both having much to improve upon for this game they played. & now she had something on him, just as he had on her. Both an equal danger to each other . . .. with no reason to sell the other out.
“I hope one day you can find comfort, with all that you feel. Perhaps once that traitor Stannis has fallen, it would be a load off . . ..” She speaks carefully, as if trying to show that was how she would take his words if needed. That she would not bring any accusations of treason.
She turns her head slightly, glancing around and feeling nearly lightheaded from the intensity . . . especially when there always seemed to be eyes watching. There’s some envy though, how safe of a position he was in . . . unlike her. Perhaps a change of subject would be best, for the time being. Despite how she longs to be open, longs to find someone to place trust in.
“She will be a great queen, and is so very lucky to have someone like you by her side to protect her . . . It is clear you love your sister very much, brothers always make the best protectors.” And yet Robb still was fighting a war, still had not been able to swoop in and save her. “I miss it . . . having a brother.” The words tailored carefully, to be saved from treasonous accusations, and yet she feels some excitement, as if it is a dance with words. A risky dance but one that sort of brings a bit more life to her.
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