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Loras was twelve the first time he met Renly Baratheon. He barely remembered his formal welcome to Storm's End, standing in front of the court trying to look careless and brave despite knowing how small he was for his age. Particularly because of how small he was, really, even though he knew he could already almost best Garlan when they were practicing and probably any of his peers at Storm's End who would be foolish enough to try.
He did remember Renly though. Renly had very bright eyes that made Loras's stomach feel funny and he grinned. Loras wanted to hit him a little.
---
Renly rarely joined them in the practice yards, often being too busy with some sort of official duty or, more frequently, spending time with older knights. Loras was never precisely sure why but he somehow resented this, that others were getting Renly's laugh at their jokes or admiration of their skill. He knew he could show him his own skill, how it surpassed theirs, if given the chance.
One otherwise utterly inconsequential day, Renly stopped by to watch the younger boys as Loras was in the middle of knocking the arrogance out of Rolynd Connington. One graceful parry and a push later and the boy was on the ground. He would not have even realized the new blur in his peripheral vision was anything important had Renly not chuckled and given away his presence.
"That was impressive," Renly said. "Though Rolynd may not have been a truly suitable opponent for you."
Loras resisted scoffing at the notion that any of the boys he had been idling with would have been a match for him.
"Care for a harder challenge?" Renly offered, with a challenging raise of his eyebrow.
Loras smiled slowly. "We shall see if you can call yourself that, my lord."
Renly laughed and came at him with no further warning, but Loras would not be taken so easily. In a far corner of his mind, he grudgingly supposed Renly had been right about the challenge. They spun halfway around the courtyard, Loras finding himself on the defensive for the first time since he had arrived, but he didn't even want to resent Renly for it. His blood was singing through his veins as he parried and he laughed as he twisted out of Renly's reach. Yet he left his side open in doing so, and before he could block he felt Renly's sword sweep low against his knees and he fell to the ground.
Renly looked down at him with that same sparkling grin and Loras suddenly wasn't sure if his breathlessness was entirely due to their fight.
"Well," Renly said, "I have been looking for a squire," and pulled him to his feet.
---
A year later Loras had returned home briefly, after the May Day Tournament and Willas's injury. It had been a difficult time at Highgarden, though once the maesters believed Willas out of danger they had sent him back to Storm's End.
"My place is here, with my brother," he had argued, as Margaery's big sad eyes stared at their father.
But Mace had refused. "Your place is with your lord," he said. "You are his squire. Do not take your other duties so lightly."
When he returned, Renly had come to his chambers. This was not a particularly difficult task on his part given their proximity to his own, but a thoughtful gesture nonetheless.
"I am sorry about your brother," he said, sitting next to Loras on his bed and putting a comforting hand on his leg. "He fought well."
"He did," Loras said. "They say he will recover."
"Good," said Renly. "He is a good man."
"Yes," said Loras.
After that, it was as though a wall that had been standing outside Loras's door had fallen, or at least cracked. Renly stopped in more often, to discuss their plans or Loras's performance in the yards, despite the fact that Loras was but short work away from besting him and they both knew it. It was difficult for him to take that seriously sometimes.
On occasion they played chess. Renly was not particularly good, he was too impulsive, unable to see what might be lurking only three moves ahead. Sometimes Loras would let him win anyway after a particularly excellent trounce just to see Renly laugh.
"I will triumph yet!" he would declare, and then laugh. "Or at least I will as long as you keep humoring me."
Loras just smiled. "I will do my best, my lord."
The summer days passed in a blur, training and hunting expeditions and minor tournaments. Loras would dress Renly before each of them, sliding his tunic and mail over his shoulders before fastening his armor, tight enough even for Renly's foolishness. He watched each one, swallowing in each detail of the fighters, and of Renly's form among them, before Renly would stumble joyously back into the tent and back into Loras's hands to be checked over.
One mid-July morning just after Loras's fourteenth name day, Renly decided to go hawking with some visiting youths without Loras's accompaniment. "It will be a short trip," he had said. "Take the morning for yourself."
Loras would have much preferred to leave with them, but bit his response back. He did have some new tricks in the joust he wanted to practice, and with people out, it would be considerably easier to have the space to do so.
He was just dismounting when the men returned, Renly riding double with one of the members of the guard. Loras somehow managed to maintain control enough to return his horse to the stables before rushing up to Renly's room.
"What happened to you," he forced out, ignoring the maester by the bedside.
Renly smiled wanly, his face pale and drawn. "Nothing of consequence," he said, waving a hand at a gash down his leg. "A scratch, really."
Loras grabbed his leg, releasing his grip a little when he felt Renly wince. "This is no scratch."
"He will heal," the maester said quietly, a small man with a short, fluffy beard. "It will scar, but the blood seems to have stopped. If he avoids infection there will be no further trouble."
Loras ignored him. "Fool," he said to Renly, sliding his hand lightly over the pale skin next to the cut.
"I suppose I should no longer go out without your supervision, then?" he asked lightly, though the intense consideration in his eyes belied his tone.
"No," Loras said, not breaking the gaze. "Clearly you cannot be trusted."
Renly chuckled.
--
Loras had grown to prefer training alone when the master at arms was busy, so few of his peers remained even the remotest challenge. Until another previously-inconsequential day when Renly made one of his rare appearances in the lower yards.
"It seems you're growing bored." Renly raised a teasing eyebrow at Loras. "Perhaps I can provide a bit of entertainment." He twirled his sword with a truly infuriating grin. "I promise I'll be gentle."
"How disappointing," Loras smirked.
He was faster than Renly now, though not stronger, and likely would never be. Not that it mattered. Renly went in fast, going for a quick cross strike that Loras easily blocked. He let Renly exert himself for a bit, nimbly stepping and turning back and forth without a stroke connecting.
"I suppose you have improved a bit," Renly said.
Loras easily knocked aside another thrust. "We can't all lounge about on questionably official business all day," he teased.
"Well, if your fine form is the price you must pay for avoiding the lap of luxury, we shall both count ourselves lucky," Renly said, still grinning. Momentarily distracted, Loras just managed to twist to the left and dodge another strike.
As he twisted, he managed a blow to Renly's sword arm, and flicked the sword out of his grasp. In one more quick move, he swept Renly's feet out.
He tossed his sword to the side. "Do you yield?"
"Never," Renly grinned, and with a quick kick behind his knees knocked Loras to the ground. Renly rolled over, using his slight size advantage to pin Loras down and settle his weight atop him, holding down one of Loras's wrists. "I have a few tricks yet."
"Really," Loras murmured as Renly's face leaned over his. "Would you care to teach me?"
He couldn't tell who moved first, but as he lifted his head, Renly leaned down towards him and their lips met. He brought his free hand up to tangle in Renly's hair, pulling him down, and Renly made a satisfied noise into his mouth, sliding his own hand around to the back of Loras's neck and bringing them even closer.
--
Loras was barely past sixteen when he was knighted. His whole family had come to Storm's End, their banners snapping in the clear summer sky. It was easy to do that sort of thing, then.
He remembered little of it. His grandmother's wizened, beaming face; Margaery's hands clasped in delight; the proud smiles of his father and brothers; all blurred to background. He had only vague recollections of the discomfort of the stone beneath his knees.
What he does remember is feeling the kiss of Renly's sword on his shoulders, and looking up to meet his gleaming eyes.
---
The day before the ceremony, after a particularly tiring round of practices, Renly had come out to retrieve him.
"I have need of you," he had simply said, so Loras hung up his armor and training equipment and followed.
They made their way out one of the castle's seldom-used lower back doors, into a lush wooded area that Loras had never previously encountered. The breeze whispered through the leaves around them, birds chirping and rustling in the brush. Renly smiled at him over his shoulder, saying nothing, looking like a spirit of the trees themselves as his green-clad form moved among them.
They eventually reached a small clearing as the sun was just beginning to set, painting everything it touched with a sheen of gold. Renly turned.
"I found this place when I was a boy," he said softly. "Before it was even my land. I was running from the cook."
Loras could hardly do more than stare. "It is a treasure indeed."
"No one else knows how to reach it," Renly said. "It is the only place I feel truly peaceful. Here, and now with you."
Renly stepped closer and pushed Loras's hair off his brow. Loras reached up, entwining his fingers with Renly's own and moving him in, drawn in as he watched the light gleam in Renly's eyes.
He kissed him then, drawing him closer still as they lay back on the grass.
----
They had been very young then, whatever numbers their ages had been.
They went to Highgarden, Renly claiming he needed a respite from the tedium of his affairs. Loras's rooms remained as he had left them, unfamiliar now.
"I suppose you no longer have adjacent chambers," his grandmother said, "but it doesn't seem like it would be too much of an affront that we placed Lord Renly's next to yours."
Loras raised an eyebrow at her mischievous expression, but Renly just laughed. "I am honored you would trust me so close to your grandson," he said.
"Loras can take care of himself."
There was, naturally, a banquet held in Renly's honor, with course after course of delicacy and flowing Arbor wine. Loras became dizzier as the night went on. "Careful, brother," Garlan said teasingly, "it seems the evening is getting to your head."
Loras shook his head. "They have trained me well at Storm's End," he said, "with little else to do at day's end."
Renly wandered over at that moment, briefly between charming the ladies of the court. "Don't let him slander my court to you," he said to Garlan, resting a hand on Loras's shoulder that Loras could feel burning through his tunic like a brand. "We are keeping him well occupied."
He slid his hand around Loras's neck, his fingers slightly sticky from the plum in his other hand. "I fear our travels have tired me, and I must beg my leave of your family for the night."
He discarded the plum pit on the table and slowly licked the residual juices off his hand, tongue flickering over his fingers. Loras tried to wait at least ten minutes to allow for some modicum of decency before following Renly up the stairs.
---
They went to King's Landing after Jon Arryn's death, because Renly had always enjoyed turmoil when it wasn't his own. He found it amusing. The Starks had come to court not long after, bringing with them an air of solemnity that Loras found off-putting.
Not so off-putting that he could not respect Lord Eddard's obvious wisdom, or not participate in the Hand's tourney, though it had almost cost him dearly.
The roses had been the important part. His grandmother had always impressed upon him the importance of seemingly guileless charm.
The roses, and Renly's hands caressing him afterward, slowly checking him over as if ensuring he remained in one piece. "Clearly I am not the only fool here," Renly whispered as he slid over him, gasping. "You are not the only one with something to lose."
---
Renly had not spoken other than what was necessary for three days after Robert's death. Loras tried in vain to coax some sign out of him, but with scant luck until the fourth day. He had gone to Renly's chambers and Renly had embraced him roughly before guiding him to the bed, exploring his body with a strange fierce sort of tenderness.
"I want to be king," Renly said afterward, as Loras was lying in his arms.
Loras simply waited.
"You've seen Joffrey, you know what a horrid child he is," he continued, idly adding, "and he looks nothing like his father."
"What of your brother?"
Renly almost smiled then. "Stannis is a good man, but would be a wretched king. He understands rule but lacks the people's love, and without it, he would crumble."
"Is this truly what you want?" Loras asked, mind going unbidden back to their simpler days of chess.
Renly nodded. "It is best, I think."
"Then marry Margaery," he said.
Renly raised a questioning eyebrow at him, and Loras pressed on. "She will understand," he said. "And she will be a good queen. And you will have all the strength of Highgarden and the Arbor behind you."
He rolled over, throwing his leg over so he was sitting up and straddling Renly. "And you will have me," he said, leaning down and kissing him hard. "You will have her at your left hand, and me always at your right."
---
The battle had not been a large one, barely more than a skirmish against Stannis's men. Yet Renly managed it in his usual fashion. Loras remembered the green figure cutting its way through their enemies as he tried vainly to keep his head in the fight. Trust, he had told himself. Trust Renly, and trust the gods.
Renly had stumbled back to their tent laughing even as he bled. Loras scowled at him, skin still tingling from the heat of battle.
"You fool."
He began pulling off Renly's mail, a job below his station yet one he had never relinquished. "You never think."
Renly had merely shrugged. "You worry too much, Loras."
"Perhaps you should worry more," Loras said. He tossed the mail aside, suddenly eager to force Renly's glibness out of him.
Renly simply waved his hand until Loras grabbed his wrist. "There are those of us who need you," he growled.
"And I will be here."
Loras roughly tugged on his wrist, pulling Renly sharply against him. "Not if you keep up this recklessness."
Renly smiled indulgently as he wove the fingers of his free hand in Loras's hair. "But I am here now."
Loras pushed him back, catching him unawares and Renly stumbled, his back hitting the tent pole as Loras advanced. "You don't see it," Loras hissed, pressing himself into Renly as he wrapped his hands around Renly's wrists, holding them behind his back. "You never have."
Renly's eyes were dark and hooded as he looked down at him. "Show me."
Loras kissed him roughly, pushing and biting his way into Renly's mouth as he held a hand on his hip hard enough to bruise. Renly arched into him, pushing back just enough that Loras could feel the friction of his body solid and real against him.
---
It was not a life that Loras was used to, the ceaseless strain of wondering what would come next, how they would feed an army, who was winning what faraway battle. He had thought it would at least be a little more glorious, but it was more tiring than anything.
Renly was not sleeping well. Loras would sit up at nights carding his fingers through Renly's hair as he tossed and turned, and tried to bring him some measure of peace.
"Do not be foolish, little brother," Willas had written him, in what seemed like an age before, before they had left Storm's End. Loras was no fool. He knew what he was meant to do.
---
"Loras, stay and help me pray," Renly had said. "It's been so long I've quite forgotten how."
Renly was never a particularly pious man, nor was Loras. But they whispered prayers into each other's skin as the candle flickered on the altars, light and shadows dancing across them. Renly mouthed his way down Loras's chest, writing obscene symbols with his tongue on his stomach and across his thighs before taking Loras into his mouth as Loras arched and gasped.
He was coming too soon, the spots of the candle flames burning behind his eyelids as he closed his eyes and threw his head back. Renly slid back up his body, kissing him, fingers tight on his hips as Loras's hands tangled in hair.
Renly reached into a pocket of his discarded tunic, pulling out a small jar of oil and slicking some slowly over his fingers before sliding one of them into Loras.
Loras shook his head. "Don't bother," he murmured. "I just want you."
Renly raised a questioning eyebrow but did as he was asked, sliding more of the oil over his erection before slowly pushing into Loras. It burned, as he knew it would, but he didn't care. He felt a strange desperation as he pushed back against Renly, arching up into him and trying to pull him even closer as Renly moaned softly.
He paused for a moment when he was fully sheathed and their eyes locked. Renly looked as though he was about to talk but thought the better of it, instead running a slow, reverent hand down Loras's side and kissing him. Loras shut his eyes tightly and kissed him back with all that he could, fingers clenched on Renly's arms as he slowly started to move.
He could feel the play of Renly's muscles shifting underneath his skin as he thrust into him, the pleasurable slide and ache of Renly inside him until he shifted slightly and hit the spot that made Loras groan and his head fell forward. He bit at Renly's neck as Renly's hand drifted down, taking hold of his renewed erection and stroking it in time with his own thrusts.
His rhythm grew increasingly harder until Loras was writhing flat against the stone floor, pushing back with as much force as he was receiving, fingers gripping Renly's sweat-slick shoulders until he arched back, moaning, his nails leaving sharp red marks down his back.
After two more quick thrusts Renly groaned with his own release and slumped down onto Loras, their limbs tangling together against the cool floor as they kissed, still holding on.
---
Loras was almost eighteen the day Renly died. He doesn't remember much of that either. They told him he killed two men of the Guard.
This news did not surprise him. Their failure had cost more than their lives were worth.
----
Sometimes Loras wonders what things would have been like in another world.
The world where Renly became king would be full of the monotony of court and him standing behind Renly, rainbow cloak about his shoulders, as Renly charmed visitors and bartered with his lords. Margaery would share Renly's bed in theory, though he would come to Loras in the night. Loras hopes that in this world they would have a son; he would not begrudge Margaery that. She would be a good mother. Things would be peaceful.
There are other worlds.
There is the one where Renly never declares himself for king. Perhaps he would support Stannis, or some other upstart. His cause victorious, he would be given an advisory position, possibly even allowed to retain Storm's End, and there they would live out their days. He does not think, though, that this Renly would have been happy.
There is the world where Robert lives to a peaceful old age. His son would succeed him on the throne, and it would be of no concern to Loras. He and Renly would stay at Storm's End growing old and removed from the politics of the court. Perhaps they would go on quests of their own. Perhaps they would grow closer still in age, or perhaps instead the cares of their years would wear on them as they slowly grew distant and dim.
He knows Renly would have found trouble sooner or later, but in these worlds, he would be able to protect him.
There are many worlds for Loras. And in all of them but this one, the sun.