first off i want to apologize to everyone for my absence lately, i miss all of you and am trying to get back online more frequently. I’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff lately in addition to classes ending and just been having a rough time of it. i hope to be back online and threading again real soon, and i hope everyone is well. lastly, thank you all for standing by and supporting me during this time, it means more than you know.
all my love <3
i missed you all!!!!
Hello everyone!! I will be taking a short leave of absence but will return in a little over a week. I thank you all in advance for your patience and understanding, I will see you guys in little over a week, I love you all!!!
|What's the kinkiest thing you've ever wanted to do to Loras? ;)|
A light flush tinged his cheeks at the question before he cleared his throat to ground himself and replied “and why in Seven Hell’s would I divulge that, greyface? If I told you it might go back to Loras, and would ruin the surprise.”
|What would you do if Loras's family married him off?|
He thought about the question for a moment, a small frown arising on his lips as he played the scenario through his mind. He remembered how Loras had felt even when it had been the Knight of Flowers himself suggesting Renly’s marriage to Margaery. Though for the roles to be reversed well..that would be a situation he would not like to find himself in. “If such a thing were to happen, nothing would change between Loras and myself…I would still love him and want to spend as much time with him as I was able.”
|"Uncle Renly!" Tommen tugged at his sleeve. "We're all going to play Heroes. Will you be Durran for us? Ser Loras is going to be Garth!"|
Smiling down at the young boy Renly crouched down slightly and gave him a nod “I would be honored, my prince” he said with a smile “and just who will you be?”
The iron tang of blood was a taste Loras had become overly accustomed to in these last few hours, and he tasted it once more as the maester began to remove the bandages from Renly’s throat. Releasing his lip from beneath his teeth, Loras slid from the chair so he was kneeling by Renly’s bedside in order to be closer to him, gripping his hand tightly in both his own. The other’s fear was tangible once more, and the sight of that marring Renly’s beautiful blue eyes sent a pang through Loras. Had he been able he would not have hesitated so much as a heartbeat before curling against Renly once more and soothing him with soft words and gentle touches, but he could not. Not with the maester glancing at him every so often with that almost suspicious look in his eyes.
Several times Loras made as if to speak, but each time he was cut off by a glare from the robed man. He wilted under them, gaze averted, for he knew what the man thought: he had been too young to take the position of Lord Commander, too inexperienced, too reckless, and now their king was paying for it. And he would be right. But Loras refused to let even that stop him from comforting his lover. “I’m here,” he said in barely more than a whisper, gazing into Renly’s eyes steadily. “I’m here, Renly…” Pressing his lips to Renly’s knuckles once more, he gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile, though it didn’t feel like much of one. Loras kept his lips against Renly’s knuckles as the maester carefully checked the stitches then redressed the wound.
At last he stepped back, hands slightly bloodied though nothing compared to the state Loras had been in the previous night. Glancing at Loras, he stared at him a moment before turning to Renly. “Your grace,” he said, giving a bow. “The wound is not as bad as I had feared—though the damage is extensive. Eating and drinking will be extremely painful if not impossible for the next few days, but it is the long term prospects that concern me. Other than the damage mentioned before, I have faith that you will make a full recovery. But, as I said…there is quite a bit of damage…primarily to your vocal cords.” Loras squeezed Renly’s hand tighter as the maester spoke, keeping his eyes on his lover. That explained why Renly was unable to speak… “Will—he’ll be able to speak again? Will he be able to? In…in time?” Loras’ words came in a rush, stilted and uncertain. The maester only regarded him with a sharp eye before turning back to Renly. “Only time will determine that answer.”
Renly awaited the answer patiently, trying not to move, trying not to think but that proved more difficult than he would have liked. Thinking only led to miserable thoughts; a winding step into the deep, eternally dark pits that held his fears, the forefront of which was never being able to speak again. Gods…how had it come to this? He knew what would happen should his voice never return. He couldn’t command, couldn’t lead, couldn’t inspire….his voice had shown the people that he cared about them, told the men that he honored them for joining his cause. His voice had whispered each night how much he loved his knight of flowers…and each night it had allowed him to quietly express the passions that the young knight gave him…
For a fleeting moment, he wished he were dead. He was going to lose it all. If his voice never returned any hope he had of keeping his bannermen together was lost. He would be seen as a cripple…not a king. The notion made a lump gather in his throat that he swallowed with difficulty, wincing harshly in the aftermath, the motion leaving a burning sensation in his throat. Even now he felt lost…he tried desperately to cling to the maester’s words, praying to the Seven that he would be able to speak again but in his heart he knew that it was never going to happen.
He was going to be a mute for the rest of his days. The maester recommended that he drink something for the pain in his throat, some dreamwine with honey to dull the sting and put him at ease. Renly gave a small nod of thanks as the maester finished before leaving the tent before Renly closed his eyes against the tears of despair that threatened to pour down them. ‘I am to be a cripple then….he’s trying to give me hope but i can see the truth in his eyes….gods, I must be strong…for Loras, my poor rose blames himself…’ Opening his eyes he looked up at Loras before reaching for him with a tender hand, gracing his fingertips over the others silky soft cheek before bringing his hands together and making a writing motion. Writing things to loras would have to suffice for now. He needed to rest.
Independent A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones RP account for Jon Snow.