[ Loras doesn't generally too far from the castle or nearby grounds. Today, he's chosen to accompany Margaery on her weekly rounds, if only because he finds the keep to be stifling. Too much fake smiling, too much pretending. Without his sister or grandmother around to force him into conversation, he just hides away, anyway.
He doesn't stay by her side long. Before much time has passed, Loras takes it upon himself to go for a walk. He's not been down by the docks. He finds the sight of the sea makes him recall Storm's End - even if the waters are much gentler here. He craves a fresher smell than King's Landing has to offer, though, so to the docks it is. The confused gaze of the crowd doesn't go unnoticed. Nor does the very familiar face and Loras, who thinks this is Olyvar, frowns as he walks over to meet him. ]
Shall I ask what sort of mess you've found yourself in, or is it simply to be a new secret among the bunch at King's Landing?
[ There's a smile, amused but full of carefully masked fondness. It's a look that Loras has long since mastered. It fades when he finally takes in "Olyvar's" appearance. Strange clothes, strange markings. Being branded never means anything good in Westeros, and Loras feels a wash of dread. This, coupled with being dumped in the sea, clearly suggests that something untoward has happened, and what happens to a squire, surely always comes back around to the squire's knight. Loras doesn't need whispers or worse when his family is in a precarious state as it is.
He glances around. After some debate, he puts the smile on again, and it puts the nearby gawkers at ease. If Loras Tyrell finds it a jest, then a jest it must be. ]
We'll go back to the castle and find you some dryer clothes, and perhaps we can avoid too much gossip on the way.
no subject
He doesn't stay by her side long. Before much time has passed, Loras takes it upon himself to go for a walk. He's not been down by the docks. He finds the sight of the sea makes him recall Storm's End - even if the waters are much gentler here. He craves a fresher smell than King's Landing has to offer, though, so to the docks it is. The confused gaze of the crowd doesn't go unnoticed. Nor does the very familiar face and Loras, who thinks this is Olyvar, frowns as he walks over to meet him. ]
Shall I ask what sort of mess you've found yourself in, or is it simply to be a new secret among the bunch at King's Landing?
[ There's a smile, amused but full of carefully masked fondness. It's a look that Loras has long since mastered. It fades when he finally takes in "Olyvar's" appearance. Strange clothes, strange markings. Being branded never means anything good in Westeros, and Loras feels a wash of dread. This, coupled with being dumped in the sea, clearly suggests that something untoward has happened, and what happens to a squire, surely always comes back around to the squire's knight. Loras doesn't need whispers or worse when his family is in a precarious state as it is.
He glances around. After some debate, he puts the smile on again, and it puts the nearby gawkers at ease. If Loras Tyrell finds it a jest, then a jest it must be. ]
We'll go back to the castle and find you some dryer clothes, and perhaps we can avoid too much gossip on the way.