Ser Loras Tyrell

WHAT worth does a bastard have? Gendry would not be so sure, really. After all, he knows that Loras’ sister is going to marry a Lannister king, with the same mother who wanted to get rid of him. The thought of how many of his half-siblings might have died still somewhat hurts. Once he’s comfortable in his saddle, he gives the knight a long look and a small amused smile. "Hope what for?” he asks, looking thoughtfully at Loras. He still isn’t so sure why the older man meant to help and he tries to recall if there is anything he could remember that would help but not so much. “Well, I’m sorry if you feel awkward while looking at me” that much he noticed. “I understand it’s weird. I still like to think it’s my face at the end of the day but well.” Not saying so much more he simply brings his mare to move, looking back over his shoulder, this time, finding his smirk once more. “Ya coming or not?”

@bywordordeed   /    contin.

“ARE ya blushing?” Gendry asks, curiously, still leaning very closely over Loras. “Mh, clearly a man who looks good with a blush on his cheeks” he teases.

                        Listless, his mannerisms upon retiring to the white tower ; long had it lain since last he’d indulged himself to surrender to the cravings of his flesh. Too long, since he’d surrendered himself to the bliss of unconsciousness. Lord Commander. He’d never craved the position, never envied any of whom had held the title, for the responsibilities of which weighed upon their shoulders - and now upon his own.                Made none the easier by the brothers he’d been given while yet held within the enemy’s grasp. The boy - ah, he’d never much cared for the youth, the Tyrell lad’s arrogance all too sharp a reminder, an echo of his former self. All too sure of himself, doubtless it will serve him as poorly as it did I. He’d manage the youth, attempt to steer him in more suitable direction.. for Tommen’s sake, if naught else.                    “Ser Loras, I’ve been told his grace has grown quite fond of you.” Tone soft as the younger knight made his entrance, Jaime hardly glanced up from where his gaze had lain fixed upon the freshly inked page in the white book - it was his responsibility to ensure it remained current in regards to the knights of whom served amongst the Kingsguard. After adding to his own, he’d moved on to this one’s.              Nearly as young as I was, when I’d been given the white cloak. “ If I were to assign one to supervise his sessions with the master of arms, who would you suggest? ”                          Once, he would have done it himself, assisted in the task of instructing the young monarch to defend himself - to live as though the blade were extension of himself, and not simply a tool for the use of killing. No longer. Maimed, he could only fumble with the blade - no matter the training he endured in secrecy. 

                 They were watching one another. Yielding only when forced, and eyeing each other in passing carefully. Each knew too much of the other, very acutely aware of weaknesses, moments, anything that could be collected for use in the near future if it was required of them, refusing to let on. It was a strange pattern, but Loras was becoming accustomed to it, eyes catching his Lord Commander’s entrance quickly now. Hearing heavy padded footsteps long before he saw him in the open air of the terraces of King’s Landing.

                  Now it was more obvious, the mix of contempt and respect they shared for one another. It made Loras feel at ease for moments, reminding him that while the Lannisters were horrid, anything was better than standing alongside Stannis, watching the men who cheered Renly’s death fight for a crown and a title Stannis could never hold. Jaime might be pompous, too proud, and a Lannister, but he was not stone, and the Knight of Flowers imagined it would be a dark day in Westeros when the Kingslayer murdered his own brother.

                   A voice pulled the young Kingsguard from his thoughts, reminding him that letting his mind drift away was behavior considered to be treason under the right circumstances. He hoped this time it would not be. Instead he lingered, listening to the question as it was asked of him. Who would he place alongside the ring with King Tommen? There were a handful of people he could pick from their offerings. He thought of himself first. Put him alongside Tommen and he was certain the boy would wield a sword better than before.

GENDRY is not sure what sort of relationship Loras held with the late King Renly but he’s aware that they were at least, as close as brothers could be. So he wonders for the true motives, however. “I don’t doubt your words, Ser” he tells him and grabs his cloak. “But it’s not like you simply could tell you brought a blacksmith with you. Everyone looks at me and knows. How long do ya think does it take until people hear Highgarden has a bastard and how long until somebody tries to get rid of me?” The blacksmith steps closer, facing the other easily, tilting his head, giving him no time to answer. “You’re an odd person. But what to lose, hm? Give me five minutes to catch up my stuff from upstairs and my mare from the stables. I must disappoint you, though. I got no good clothes so you have to be seen with that.” He doesn’t hesitate and disappears upstairs. Gendry pulls up his hood and keeps the bag tight to his shoulders before he saddles the mare. A pretty one, a small gift from a member of brotherhood. He leads her out of the stables and smiles amused. “Ya still got time to change yer mind to invite me to your garden.”

@acharmingbird picked send me ☽ for my muse to drunkenly confess feelings to yours

        He’d only been this drunk twice before. Maybe once. It was hard to recount when he could feel the earth moving in waves beneath him. When he could see a dab of red swirling in with violent blues and something all together beige. And then pure white. He knew it had to be her. The Stark girl his sister spoke of so warmly, recounting her many graces and kindness. How easily she had been tricked into playing a game there was no chance of her winning. He was rather inclined to agree. On a different day.

GENDRY remembers all the customers that had come to the shop. It is important to know people so you could give the right advice if they ask for it without hesitation and asking. And you clearly do not forget the famous knights that come over. “I hear that all the time. Why do ya think I am worried about my head?” If he must choose, he prefers to lose his head rather than being burned. He was a worshipper of the Lord of Light as well and he is fully aware of their belief in the power of certain bloodlines. Blue eyes keep watching, being amused without knowing why. “Keep your coins, I just take what my work is worth and well. Believe me, it’s better not. I’m an outlaw.” Gendry is close to adding that he’s not a person anyone wants to be seen with but he stops himself from it.