[ At the very least, Loras can try to lend some nondescript clothes - if he has any that don't scream Tyrell - until further notice. He opens the door to his rooms and closes it once they're inside.
At least here they have more privacy than anything else. And for that reason alone, Loras doesn't mind stepping in to press a light kiss to not-Olyvar's lips in a small show of relief. ]
Now let's get you out of these clothes and you'll tell me what's happened. I'm certain between my sister and my grandmother, we can do something about it.
[ It's the only word he really can blurt out, blinking in confusion. He'd been expecting something, but not a kiss. How long had it been since anyone kissed him?
Had he ever been kissed?
His memories are fuzzy. Strange, because he's perfectly aware of who he is despite the gorgeous man with golden curls and the bluest eyes he's seen even in comparison to himself telling him he's someone else.
Maybe he did hit his head before plunging into the water. ]
[ Loras lets out a laugh, but it's hardly lingering. He's never taken to being the butt of a joke, and if that's what's happening here, then it won't end well. He's clearly trying to brush it off, though. Maybe the hit to the head was worse than he thought.
Poor Olyvar. ]
If you're going to play games then I can send you off to your own room to recover. Which I should do, really, but you're welcome to stay here. I can find a temporary squire for tomorrow if you're still not feeling well. But I've always found a good meal and a good sleep clears my head just fine.
[ Squire. That's something Sebastian hasn't heard in a while, and while he's momentarily stunned by the laugh that just came out from the other he's able to pull himself together to shake his head and place one of his hands in the air to stop him.
A knight. Handsome, dashing, and maybe Sebastian's fallen into a fairy tale. ]
The problem is that I'm not whoever it is you think I am. This isn't where I'm from, it--
[ He has to start actually finishing his sentences. ]
I'm from a land very very far away from here. I just happen to look like your boyfriend, and for that I am sorry, but I needed a moment alone with you to explain myself.
[ Loras watches as he listens, but his lips press together. Now he feels that he's certain he's in the middle of some prank, that someone is trying to exploit some (true) rumours and Loras is much too proud to stand for that.
Even if he's never heard the term boyfriend in his life. ]
I'd assume it'd be much more satisfying to humiliate me more publicly, but as it's a sport I've never taken part in, what would I know?
[ He's not doing much to hide the fact that he's mad about it. He's only ever been kind, hasn't he? Then again, this has never been a good place for kindness. ]
Wh--no, I'm not trying to humiliate you in the slightest, I'm trying to tell you I'm not whoever it is you're thinking of.
[ What was it, that Azazel had done to the Warlock and Sebastian's father? Switched their bodies around. It had to be some sort of spell like that, only he's himself. And the only person who's actually been kind to him looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Understandable, really. The other hand shoots up, as if to show he's unarmed. ]
[ Were this not Loras' room, he'd leave. He draws himself up to stand a bit taller, clearly displeased. ]
You can leave or I can have someone come to escort you out.
[ But there is a sort of hesitance in it all. Loras will feel terrible if it isn't Olyvar, and worst of all, if it isn't then he's revealed a dangerous secret to a complete stranger. In which case, letting him go would be a mistake. ]
[ He's banking on a lot, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't quickly pray to the Angel before reaching his hand up to touch the rune on his neck. ]
Your boyfriend, does he have this?
[ As if to further prove his point (and also because he's still wet), Sebastian removes his comfortably too-big sweater, revealing a lithe runner's body and still more runes. They're bold in black, and he licks his thumb, rubbing at the one on his neck. ] They're permanent. They would take a long time to heal, wouldn't they?
[ His smile is hopeful as he raises his brows. ] I understand this isn't ideal and I shouldn't have tricked you, but I wasn't sure what else to do until I could properly explain myself alone.
[ Loras watches, keeping his distance. There's a look on his face that is full of skepticism, but he's a touch more trusting than his sister. No doubt that Margaery would see through anything in an instant. Loras, however, has no reason to distrust the world.
But he also knows that magic is a real thing, and that would explain easily why the marks could heal so suddenly. If it were Olyvar. But Loras feels, perhaps, that Olyvar would not be so committed to such a joke, even for any sum of money. ]
No. By the Angel--no, no. [ The shirt was wet anyway, wool becoming uncomfortable and scratchy, and so shirtless Sebastian stays, trying his best to smile, to placate. ]
I should be apologizing, but I wanted to get somewhere quiet so I could get my bearings. My name is Sebastian.
[ Sebastian is luckier than he knows, to share looks with Olyvar and to have had Loras come across him before anyone else. Anyone beyond the Tyrells would lack kindness or even the sense of decency to help the man, and Loras has to wonder how much even his own sister would extend to Sebastian. Likely enough to see that he was well and send him out of the city as fast as possible. ]
Loras Tyrell. I would suspect you do well to remember it, for as long as you're in Westeros, being associated with a Tyrell will prove kinder to you than any other allegience.
[ It's a haughty thing to say, but Loras still feels slighted, and he wants it to be known that he has the upper hand here.
He seeks out the plainest tunic he has. It's still perhaps too much for a simple squire to have, but Loras can, if needed, play it off that it's important a squire emulate his knight. ]
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[ At the very least, Loras can try to lend some nondescript clothes - if he has any that don't scream Tyrell - until further notice. He opens the door to his rooms and closes it once they're inside.
At least here they have more privacy than anything else. And for that reason alone, Loras doesn't mind stepping in to press a light kiss to not-Olyvar's lips in a small show of relief. ]
Now let's get you out of these clothes and you'll tell me what's happened. I'm certain between my sister and my grandmother, we can do something about it.
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[ It's the only word he really can blurt out, blinking in confusion. He'd been expecting something, but not a kiss. How long had it been since anyone kissed him?
Had he ever been kissed?
His memories are fuzzy. Strange, because he's perfectly aware of who he is despite the gorgeous man with golden curls and the bluest eyes he's seen even in comparison to himself telling him he's someone else.
Maybe he did hit his head before plunging into the water. ]
Ehm--who are you?
[ Let's take this slowly. ]
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Poor Olyvar. ]
If you're going to play games then I can send you off to your own room to recover. Which I should do, really, but you're welcome to stay here. I can find a temporary squire for tomorrow if you're still not feeling well. But I've always found a good meal and a good sleep clears my head just fine.
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A knight. Handsome, dashing, and maybe Sebastian's fallen into a fairy tale. ]
The problem is that I'm not whoever it is you think I am. This isn't where I'm from, it--
[ He has to start actually finishing his sentences. ]
I'm from a land very very far away from here. I just happen to look like your boyfriend, and for that I am sorry, but I needed a moment alone with you to explain myself.
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Even if he's never heard the term boyfriend in his life. ]
I'd assume it'd be much more satisfying to humiliate me more publicly, but as it's a sport I've never taken part in, what would I know?
[ He's not doing much to hide the fact that he's mad about it. He's only ever been kind, hasn't he? Then again, this has never been a good place for kindness. ]
You can see yourself out, I'm sure.
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[ What was it, that Azazel had done to the Warlock and Sebastian's father? Switched their bodies around. It had to be some sort of spell like that, only he's himself. And the only person who's actually been kind to him looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Understandable, really. The other hand shoots up, as if to show he's unarmed. ]
I can prove it to you.
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You can leave or I can have someone come to escort you out.
[ But there is a sort of hesitance in it all. Loras will feel terrible if it isn't Olyvar, and worst of all, if it isn't then he's revealed a dangerous secret to a complete stranger. In which case, letting him go would be a mistake. ]
How can you prove it?
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Your boyfriend, does he have this?
[ As if to further prove his point (and also because he's still wet), Sebastian removes his comfortably too-big sweater, revealing a lithe runner's body and still more runes. They're bold in black, and he licks his thumb, rubbing at the one on his neck. ] They're permanent. They would take a long time to heal, wouldn't they?
[ His smile is hopeful as he raises his brows. ] I understand this isn't ideal and I shouldn't have tricked you, but I wasn't sure what else to do until I could properly explain myself alone.
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But he also knows that magic is a real thing, and that would explain easily why the marks could heal so suddenly. If it were Olyvar. But Loras feels, perhaps, that Olyvar would not be so committed to such a joke, even for any sum of money. ]
Then I have made a fool of myself either way.
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I should be apologizing, but I wanted to get somewhere quiet so I could get my bearings. My name is Sebastian.
[ His brow raises--'and you, now?' ]
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Loras Tyrell. I would suspect you do well to remember it, for as long as you're in Westeros, being associated with a Tyrell will prove kinder to you than any other allegience.
[ It's a haughty thing to say, but Loras still feels slighted, and he wants it to be known that he has the upper hand here.
He seeks out the plainest tunic he has. It's still perhaps too much for a simple squire to have, but Loras can, if needed, play it off that it's important a squire emulate his knight. ]
Take these dry clothes.