open | prompt five | ENDINGS

[wrens]

prompt five | E N D I N G S dressing-room style. start your own thread. tag others. wash, rinse, repeat. open to all.

 

Comments

[comeliness]

[ A knight's hands are strong and, quite often ungentle, but Loras has always had Margaery as his sister and so has grown knowing the ways in which to handle the likes of a lady. His fingers brush across the ridge of her knuckles, bare enough to nearly tickle and Margaery smiles — the expression effortless where otherwise it would hold some practice. ]

No queen, not even the queens of old, have had a greater champion. [ Margaery had said similar words to Sansa Stark once, back when the dear girl had begged her not to marry Joffrey. Mace Tyrell had been no fool in his bargaining and Margaery's hand had come with the stipulation of Loras' knighthood as well. On the surface it seemed an obvious attempt to secure allegiance where allegiance had been broken and to protect Margaery from the mercurial cruelties of the young king. But she knew better — knew that plans had plans further beneath them and that Loras' safety had been equally secured with such terms.

(In truth, the Tyrells do not fear the golden lions with their full purses and their proud Rock. The Reach has bounties of its own and even its sweetest roses bear iron thorns.)

A moment pases during which the queen and the knight walk in silence, their conversation hushed beneath the clinking of his armor. ] Less talk of vengeance, [ Margaery then says, her voice airy though her eyes flicker to Loras with a grave look. There is more than one way to destroy one's enemy and though Loras is a knight of honors and duels, the roses of Highgarden have different means.

(It will come, in time. Trust your sister.) ] The weather is far too mild for it. Shall we have a ride instead?