Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 14: Tested Loyalties

—At King's Landing—

Red Keep — Renly Baratheon's chambers...

In a small room in King's Landing, the Master of Laws Lord Renly Baratheon sits shirtless in a chair with his lover Ser Loras Tyrell, who is also shirtless, kneeling beside him lathering thick cream to shave Renly. "Lord Stark's lucky he still has a head," he remarked.

"Robert will rant for a few days, but he won't do anything," Renly replied. "He adores the man. Still, I've got to give my nephew credit for talking back to Robert like that."

"You're jealous," Loras teases before bringing the blade close to Renly's chest.

Renly sees the blade. "Are you sure this won't hurt?" he asks worriedly.

"Only if I slip."

"And you prefer me like this?"

"Mm-hmm."

Renly remains motionless as he continues to keep his eyes focused on the razor-sharp blade as his chest is getting shaved. "If you want hairless, maybe you should find a little boy."

"I want you."

"My brother thinks that anyone who hasn't been to war isn't a man. He treated me and Daveth as if we're spoiled children."

"Well, you know how the Queen would react. She'd tear down the realm before she'd let her son fight."

"Maybe you're right," Renly conceded. "Still treats us like a spoiled child, though." He turns and notices Loras slyly grinning at him. "Oh, and you're not? Loras Tyrell, the Knight of the Flowers? How many wars have you fought in? Oh, and how much did your father spend on that armor of yours?"

"Hold still," Loras said annoyed.

Renly sat motionless as he continued his tirade. "All I ever hear from Robert and Stannis is how I'm not tough enough, how I squirm at the sight of blood."

"You did vomit when that boy's eye was knocked out in the melee."

"His eye was dangling out of the damn socket!"

"He shouldn't have entered the melee if he didn't know how to fight."

"Easy for you to say. Not everyone is such a gifted swordsman."

Loras shook his head. "It's not a gift. No one gave it to me. I'm good because I work at it – every day of my life since I could hold a stick. The same could be said of your nephew Prince Daveth, though," he said – still remembering the jousting competition between him and the Oathkeeper, how tough an opponent he was and the only one to unseat him.

"His accomplishments are overrated anyway. I could work at fighting all day, every day, and still never be as good as the both of you."

"Yes well, I guess we'll never know," Loras rolled his eyes. Finished with Renly's chest, he wipes him off and raises his arm so he can shave Renly's armpit.

"Everywhere?" he asks surprised.

Loras nods. "Everywhere. So... how did it end up? The Targaryen girl will die?"

"It needs to be done, unpleasant as it is. Robert's rather tasteless about it. Every time he talks about killing her, I swear the table rises six inches."

"It's a shame he can't muster the same enthusiasm for his wife."

Renly chuckled briefly. "Daveth said the exact same thing," he frowns for a moment. "Robert does have a deep abiding lust for her money, though. You have to give it to the Lannisters, they may be the most pompous, ponderous cunts the gods ever suffered to walk the world, but they do have an outrageous amount of money."