shititsalion | Closed to loveandloyalty

Closed to loveandloyalty

[The battle actually hadn't lasted that long. Maybe 40 minutes at most. They had fought Stannis' army just outside their camp and at the end of it all, they had won. A good deal of Stannis' men lay dead on the field and the rest had retreated. Stannis himself hadn't been present but the defeat should be enough to discourage him for a while. Just a while. Loras had no doubt that he'd be back. Stannis had always been stubborn at the worst of times. Still, it had been a good battle and a good victory. Renly should be happy.

During the fight Loras had ended up face to face with a knight twice his age and twice his size. A big, strong man. He was proud to say that he had beheaded the man. Not before taking a nice deep slash to the bicep and a hard mace hit to the ribs but he had still killed the man. That was what was important. To him at least, his squire seemed to disagree. As they rode back to camp the boy was buzzing around him like a particularly obnoxious little bee, asking a million times if he was alright. To which Loras always answered "yes stop asking".

Back in his tent the boy helped him out of his armor, flying into a panic at the sight of the blood seeping through the arm of his cotton undershirt. Before he could stop him the boy scurried from the tent, returning with one of the camp medics. Soon everyone in camp would know he was injured now, thanks to his well intentioned squire. Margaery would be flying in soon and then probably Renly. It was silly. He felt just fine, though the more he settled the more he felt the pain in his side and the stinging of the gash on his arm.]

Really, I'm- [He began but hissed in pain instead as the healer peeled the shirt away from the wound on his arm. Okay, maybe letting someone look at his wasn't the worst idea. When the shirt came off, there was a large and colorful bruise already covering a good deal of his left side. Yes, that probably wasn't good]

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[The battle had gone well, from what Renly had heard. He had been there, of course, to rally the men and show a strong front, but more out of the thick of it since... Well, he was never as much of a warrior as Robert. Good soldiers don't always make good kings, though. He had given the men some inspiration, done a little fighting, and had been mostly kept safe.

He was laughing with a couple of the bannermen, helmet under his arm and armor already shucked by his squire, when the news came that the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard had suffered an injury in the battle. That had been all it took to excuse himself subtly, making the excuse that he should go check on his dear wife's brother for her, and hurried off to the tent where they would have Loras.

What he walked in to find made his stomach turn - there was so much blood! - but he tried to keep the horror off his face.] How is Ser Loras? Please work quickly. No doubt the Queen will wish to visit her brother and I would hate for her to see this much blood.

[He can hear someone approaching the tent and prays to any God he can think of that it's just another knight. Of course, Gods never actually listen to prayers so he isn't exactly surprised when Renly walks in. Usually he's happy to see the older man. But not right now. Renly has a tendency to overreact to blood and Loras is just not in the mood. He's in pain. It's to the point where he has to admit that, at least to himself. The healer is working on cleaning up the gash on his arm and makes a comment about how deep it is]

It is not that much blood and it is not that deep. It is not even my sword arm. I'm fine. [It's said almost petulantly] Besides, I paid the knight who did it back with a beheading. Fair trade, I think.

Edited 2013-05-28 03:56 (UTC)

[He's much less likely to listen to Loras's complaining that he's just fine, not with all that blood, not with the healer complaining that the wound is deep. He gives the person a nod and ensures they're looking after Loras as befitting the Lord Commander of his Rainbow Guard.]

A beheading is fair trade indeed, my brave knight. Allow the Maester to do his job, though, we would not want your sister to worry about the wound festering. [...Renly is probably more concerned with that than Margaery, but he has to speak a certain way in front of his subjects.] I'm sure it will take no time at all, and then you can rest.

[Loras is fairly sure that Margaery wouldn't be the one worrying about that but he doesn't comment. He's more preoccupied with not making a face of displeasure when the healer orders his squire to boil some wine. The wine is his least favorite part of getting cuts treated. It'll probably need to be sewn shut, too, which is even worse]

I am letting him do his job, your grace. [Still slightly petulant but he can't be petulant at Renly in front of other people. He hisses when the healer pokes at his side, muttering something about broken ribs, and moves away from the hand] Careful.

Letting him, indeed. [Renly remarks dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. He's feeling a little faint, all things considered, but in his defense, he's been handling blood a lot better since he put out his claim for the throne. Making more of an effort, at least. No one wants a king who doesn't like the sight of blood. His heart aches for Loras, though, seeing him hurt, and all he wants to do is go sit at his side and hold his hand while they treat his wounds, but that certainly wouldn't be acceptable, and this isn't Storm's End's maester, who acts as if he doesn't notice the closeness Loras and Renly share.

So he takes a seat nearby, near enough as he dares without getting in the way, hoping his eyes convey his concern even as his tone is slightly amused.] Perhaps next time I should keep you at my side so that I may keep an eye on you.

[Loras is actually quite pleased with Renly's lack of overreaction so far. Then again, maybe he shouldn't be surprised. Renly has always been very good at keeping things to himself. Though Loras is not counting on that same calm staying when the maester leaves. He has to resist the urge to give Renly a dirty look at the comment about keeping him by his side]

Your grace, I am the Lord Commander of your Kingsguard. This sort of thing is what I exist for. It is my job.

[About this time his squire runs in with a steaming cup of wine and hands it to the healer. Loras winces just from the sight of it and braces himself from the sting. The whole cup is poured over his wound. It hurts just as much as he remembers. He has to bite the inside of his cheek so hard that he draws blood and pound his uninjured fist on the nearby table to keep himself quiet. But then it's over and the wound is being sewn and wrapped. The healer also smears some cream on his side for the pain and bruising and then wraps a cloth tightly around his body before taking his leave of the tent. Loras turns to his squire]

Stand outside the tent. Do not let anyone in. If they ask tell them I'm fine but not up for visitors. [Pause] Except my sister. I suppose if she comes you have to let her in. [Because he knows Margaery wouldn't listen when told to go anyway. The boy nods and scurries out of the tent]

[It's all part of being king, keeping your true self under wraps unless it'll help you in some way, or improve your image. To his credit, he manages to keep the front up until the maester and the squire have left the tent, and then he drops all pretense, the facade melting away to show frazzled nerves and worry, though thankfully all the blood is dealt with by now. He moves to Loras's side immediately, taking his good hand in both of his and pressing a kiss to it.]

You frightened me. When I'd heard you were injured-

[He was expecting this. Actually, he was expecting something slightly more dramatic. He gives Renly a slightly tired smile when his hand is kissed, leaning forward to press his lips gently to the other man's temple]

Knights get hurt, Renly. It is the nature of the job. You are going to have to get used to that idea if you truly want me to be Lord Commander. [He isn't quite sure how to react himself. He's never been in a battle and he's never been seriously injured. Though he supposes these injuries aren't all that serious. They're more than he's ever had, at least]

[He's still a bit in shock, probably, that Loras could be hurt at all. He's one of the finest knights in Westeros, but a battle isn't anything like a melee or a joust. Renly presses a kiss to his forehead and strokes his thumb over Loras's knuckles.] Lord Commander of the Kingsguard is a title you deserve. It doesn't mean I will ever be alright with you being hurt.

How bad is the pain? Should I call someone in with milk of the poppy?

[Anyone can be hurt. Good knight or no, injuries are still to be expected. Really, it's the good ones who survive]

Yes, well, that is what being Lord Commander involves sometimes. I survived. It could have ended differently. [He isn't sure what else to say. He's also not sure he even wants to talk about it anymore] In happier news, we won. Stannis took what was left of his army and retreated.

Not bad. I do not need it. [He can manage the pain. Yes, he kind of feels like he got run over by a wagon and the dozen or so horses pulling it but milk of the poppy seems extreme. And weak. He isn't willing to admit he might need it]

[It doesn't mean he can stand the thought. He was just a boy the last time anyone was at war with each other, he still hasn't quite come to terms with what they're doing, what it will take to reach the goals they've set for themselves. Still, Loras doesn't need him fussing like a mother hen - no doubt Margaery will do enough of that later for the both of them, so he sighs resignedly, purposely ignoring the comment that 'it could have ended differently'. No, it couldn't have.] You fought well. Stannis doesn't stand a chance, at this rate.

[Any traces of a smile fade after a moment, green eyes taking on some other fleeting feeling. A tinge of sadness, maybe.] He will fight until the bitter end, though. My brother has never been good at giving up the things he believes are his. His stubbornness is maybe the only reason I'm alive now, and yet it will be the death of him.

[But then his expression turns gentle again, fondly exasperated as he presses a kiss to Loras's brow.] At least have a cup of wine with me, then. A toast to your victory.

Of course I did. Are you surprised? [He knows this probably isn't easy for Renly. The war. His injury. The fact that they have to fight his brother. None of it is easy. It isn't easy for Loras either. He's heard countless stories about the last war from his father. His father who wasn't even present when he was born because he was off at war. It seems different when you're the one fighting though. Loras isn't sure it's a good different]

Then I suppose I owe a certain amount of gratitude to your brother's lobster-like ways. [Still, he can't imagine fighting Garlan or Willas. Even if Renly and Stannis aren't exactly close, it has to hurt] What we are doing is for the benefit of everyone, not just ourselves. You will be just the kind of King the realm needs. Try not to forget that.

I suppose that is the least I could do. [Wine might be nice. He's feeling wound up and not in a way he likes. It's more of a nervous energy, something Loras is not familiar with]

[That gets a wry smile out of him, despite the gravity of his feelings. Loras's modesty is nearly nonexistent, but he's so very fond of him that it's charming.] Not at all. [It might not be easy, but Loras believes in him the way Robert and Stannis never did, and that's all Renly Baratheon has ever needed, Loras's love, his faith, his loyalty.

His smile takes on a slightly sadder tinge.] I know. Stannis is no king, that I am certain of, as certain as I am of your love for me. Still, I hope I can make my brother see reason. To fight me is folly when we could be crushing the Lannisters, who murdered our brother and put Cersei's bastard son on the throne.

[He sighs almost tiredly, and pours them each a cup of wine, hoping it will at least dull Loras's pain a little, and maybe soothe his own nerves.] I truly hope this war is short.

If there is any possible way we can turn Stannis around to our side, we shall not hesitate to do it. I promise. [He really doesn't see that happening though. All he knows of the elder Baratheon are stories of how unmovable and unrelenting he is. If he believes the throne is really his, he won't give it up easily] He may not be a king but perhaps he would make a decent Council member. And if he so desires Storm's End, you could give it to him. You won't need it, you'll have King's Landing.

If we manage to ally with the Starks as well, the Lannisters cannot hope to win.

We can hope. [He doesn't see that happening either, though]

The only way we might is if I talk to him, but I don't know how to make him see. He's never much liked me, not even when we were boys. Not since Robert gave me Storm's End, and if he won't get over a grudge he held against me when I was seven years old, how will he possibly listen? [Stannis never forgets, he never gives up. Sometimes they're good qualities, but sometimes Renly wishes Stannis would just bend the knee and fight alongside him as brothers should. As Robert never did with them.] I could name him Master of Laws. He would no doubt enjoy the pedantic bureaucracy. [He doesn't comment on giving him Storm's End. Renly loves his family's ancestral home, and though it might soothe some ruffled feathers, he isn't sure if he wants to give it up, not when he could give it to any second or third son he may have.]

Do you think the Starks will be more responsive? Robb Stark will demand the North, no doubt. Is it worth it, I wonder, to divide the kingdom thusly to win it? [He exhales softly and takes a sip of wine.]

But we can leave this for later. For now we should celebrate your victory.

Does Stannis truly like anyone? [Because Loras can't say who that would be if he did] Perhaps. But first you have to get him to actually listen to you and that will be half the battle.

Lady Stark was sent here by her son to speak with you. I do not think he would have done that if he were unwilling to work with you. [He nods, picking up his own cup and taking a sip]

And let us hope there are many more to celebrate.

[Renly scoffs quietly at that.] Stannis's version of love is peculiar. He repaid the smuggler who brought us food during the Siege of Storm's End by chopping off a few of his fingers and then knighting him. He seems to think all of Westeros will be like Davos Seaworth, and yet he calls me naive.

[A brief hum of agreement.] True. We can promise them his sisters, and his father's bones when we take King's Landing, as a token of friendship. Maybe Lady Stark will talk him down, make him satisfied with that.

[He smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips.] Hope? I am certain there will be thousands more reasons to celebrate, with you at my side.

He's....a unique man, your brother. [That's the nicest way Loras can think to put it] We shall try. We shall give him the opportunity to join us and if he should choose not to take it..... [He leaves the rest unsaid. He doesn't want to make this harder for Renly but the fact of the matter is that there just may not be a way to work this out with Stannis]

Maybe. And of course he would still have all the lands that the Starks have traditionally had control of. Ah, Cersei's headsman took Lord Stark's blade as well, didn't he? Perhaps we could promise them to try and recover that as well. Just to sweeten the deal.

[Loras smiles as well, lightly returning the kiss. It's hard to be too upset with Renly so near] I never intend to leave your side.

[His brother isn't a needlessly cruel man but he doesn't know how to make people love him - people who aren't Davos Seaworth, who isn't a typical man himself if he holds no grudge for the loss of his fingers. Renly never did understand it, not when the man had saved all their lives. He remembers little of the siege, but he does remember the onions and salt fish were like the food of the gods after starving and eating rats and dogs and cats and horses just to scrape by.] I know. We'll see what he says. I'll arrange a parley.

Of course we'll return that. Hopefully it will be enough. I don't wish to war with the family of my brother's dearest friend, and we want the same things: Lannister heads on spikes.

[If his smile wavers a little, only Loras is here to notice.] Good, because I can't do this without you.

And you know that I will do whatever it is you need me to do. [He doesn't think he needs to tell Renly that but he will anyway, just to make sure]

It just makes sense for our two sides to work together. I'm sure this Robb Stark will see that. Lord Eddard was always a rational man. Perhaps his son inherited some of that.

[When Renly's smile falters, Loras' softens and he reaches up to cup the older man's face with his uninjured hand] When you heard I was injured, you were worried that I might be dying, is that it? You will never, ever have to face anything without me. The gods may not listen when they are prayed to but even they are not that cruel. And I would never willingly leave your side. I love you far too much for that.

[Loras doesn't need to say it, Renly already knows it. He can always trust in Loras Tyrell's devotion to him. If only everything else were so easy, so sure. Eddard wasn't always rational, or else he might have listened to Renly when Renly said they could seize Cersei and her children and prevent all this bloodshed, but he hadn't - and he lost his head for it. But for now he only nods and takes another sip of wine. They'll discuss further when he's feeling better.

Renly folds a hand over Loras's on his cheek, closing his eyes for a moment. Maybe he was scared when he first heard about his injuries; people always say they're just green boys playing at war, and maybe he's a little scared sometimes that they're right. But everyone is afraid of something.] I know you wouldn't. No one could tell me how serious it was at first, is all. But you have to admit, you aren't exactly careful sometimes.

[Loras scoffs, a soft, almost amused sound and lightly pats Renly's cheek]

I was wondering when it would come around to this. Is this where you tell me that I'm far too rash sometimes? Some would argue that this entire war is just that. What else would you have me do, love? Sit around barking commands while everyone else fights? That would not make me much of a commander.

You are sometimes, and don't say that, not when you encouraged this in the first place. [He probably never would have made a bid for the throne if not for Loras and the Tyrells. They're the only reason he has an army, Margaery wants to be queen, and Loras keeps telling Renly what a good king he will be.] I would have you grab for a little less glory, at least when it's going to end up with you bleeding like this. I need you, Loras.

I didn't say I thought that. Just that some people might. I happen to not care about the opinions of the people who think that. [He says it because he believes it]

You're being overdramatic. I'm not going to die from a little sword wound. I'll say it again: knights get hurt.

I am not being overdramatic! It isn't overdramatic to worry about you, especially when no one will tell me how badly you're hurt until I actually arrive at your tent!

Knights get hurt, and knights also die, but I can't lose you. I can't. And do not tell me you promise not to die, because I'm certain that knight you beheaded today made the same promise to his beloved.

Closed to loveandloyalty

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