Chapter Text
"Why is it so cold?" Loras complained as he pushed his feet closer to the hearth. Nightsong was as far south as he'd ever been and just hours ago the heat of the high hall nearly boiled him alive. Servants had fanned them with rushes and carted out jug after jug of cool water as Renly held court with the Marcher lords, but there was no respite from what felt like standing in the mouth of a dragon. Now, Loras and Renly had moved only from the hall to the visitors' chambers, but Loras was sure winter was coming.
"We're at the edge of a desert," Renly explained. Even with his usual warmth, he wore a thick travelling cloak over his bedclothes to ward off the evening chill as he sat reading a letter. "The air of the Marches is too dry to hold heat from the day."
That made sense, probably, and relief washed over Loras to know they would not be here for long. Nightsong was the last stop on Renly's tour of the Stormlands, a tour hastily arranged as one last diversion before Renly officially took up residence in King's Landing as Master of Laws.
Loras looked forward to it. As fond as he'd become of Storm's End over the past two years, the frequent rain and storms were something he'd never grown entirely accustomed to. The Crownlands were much milder like the Reach, even if they were nowhere near as beautiful.
"Renly…" Loras ventured, "once you're settled as Master of Laws, might we go to Highgarden for a while?"
Renly glanced up with a warm smile. "Of course we may. But actually, we're going a bit further south before we go to King's Landing."
"But there isn't anything further south from here," Loras said, raising an eyebrow. Renly smiled pacifyingly. "No, Renly, you can't meant to go to…"
He couldn't even say it. Incredulous, he stared at Renly, who held up the letter he had been reading. It bore the royal seal in red wax.
"I've delayed my arrival in the capital for so long that the Hand seems to think I would be only too pleased to delay a while longer. I've been asked to pay a visit to Dorne on behalf of the king."
Renly was actually smiling. Loras knew that he thought the enmity between Dorne and the Reach to be a mere trifle, just a misunderstanding that could be solved by sharing a few cups of wine together, but Loras couldn't share Renly's cordiality in this. Even if one were to ignore hundreds of years of border wars and bloodshed, a Prince of Dorne had nearly murdered Loras' brother. Just the thought of stepping into the snake pit that man called home made Loras' skin crawl, and the easy smile on Renly's face felt almost like a betrayal.
Sensing this unease, Renly came to join Loras in front of the hearth. Usually Loras relished any touch Renly granted him and he would want nothing more than to press closer to Renly, but he drew away instead.
"Come Loras," Renly soothed, "You know I must do the king's bidding now. This wasn't my choice."
"Then why are you smiling?" Loras demanded.
Renly laughed. "Because I should like to visit Sunspear. And you look very sweet when you sulk." He slid an arm around Loras' shoulders, and though Loras wanted to draw away again, to show that he wasn't sulking, he couldn't resist slumping against Renly's side. Renly's cloak settled around both of them and Loras heaved a great sigh.
"If you'd like, I can knight you now," Renly offered.
Loras' heart soared, but something about that did not ring true. He glanced up at Renly curiously. "Why now?"
"So that you may return to Highgarden instead. I'll meet you there on my return."
As eagerly as Loras was waiting for his knighthood, he could not allow that. "No. You'll need me at your side to protect you in Dorne."
Renly laughed lightly. "I doubt I shall need protecting."
Loras just let his head droop against Renly's shoulder. There was some comfort in Renly's offer of escape from the very last place in the realm that Loras wished to go, but Loras knew what he must do.
"I said I would go with you anywhere," he grumbled, "even to Dorne."