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1.
Renly had hoped that there would be at least one other person in the Small Council chamber, but, as luck (bad luck) would have it, it was just him and Robert.
Robert stomped in, drunk as usual, but there was a glimmer of clarity in his usually clouded eyes, and a wicked smile visible through his thick beard. "If it isn't my new Master of Laws," he said loudly. "I hope I don't regret this."
"I know plenty about the law," Renly said, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms. "More importantly, I know exactly how much other people know about the law. And it's not very much at all, so you can break it to your heart's content."
Robert cackled as he took his chair at the head of the table. "You're lucky no one knows what a nasty little viper you are, brother."
"I always thought I was a rather large viper," Renly said.
Robert grunted and looked down at the papers he spread out before him. "You're spending too much bloody time with Lord Baelish. You're even starting to talk and dress like him."
"I don't think I've changed at all," sighed Renly. "You just never happened to pay attention."
"Oh, no," Robert said, leaning over to inspect Renly. "The fabrics, the jewels...but what's this?" He waved a finger in Renly's direction.
"What's what?"
"That mark on your neck. And those scratches on your face, Gods! It's bloody rude to keep a maid like that all to yourself. I should declare it treason not to share."
Renly blinked innocently. "I don't think you'd be interested."
Robert snorted. "A bitch who fucks like a weasel trapped in a bag? What's not to like? I have to say, I'm proud of you, brother. I was starting to worry. Someone told me they'd seen the Knight of Flowers wearing a brooch of yours, and I wondered if those rumors about you were true. But now that I know you're..." Robert trailed off, and his gaze fixated on the rose pin at Renly's throat.
"Fucking weasels?" Renly offered.
Robert shook his head. "Seven hells," he muttered. "That's a weasel you can keep."
2.
Cersei always walked as though she hoped to cleanse invisible filth off the ground with the sweep of her skirts.
"Good day, Your Grace," Renly said, giving the queen a radiant smile as she approached. "You're looking lovelier than ever today. You've drawn the attention of every visitor to this garden, and even of the sun itself, it seems." And indeed as the queen strode through the garden the sun had broken through its cloud cover to gild her hair.
"And you're looking...much like the man I married," Cersei replied, a smirk on her lips. "While you're here, there was a question I had been meaning to ask you. What is the gallant Ser Loras Tyrell still doing in King's Landing, now that he's a knight and no longer your squire?" She looked past Renly to where Loras stood some paces back, chatting with a squire near a patch of moonflowers. "Shouldn't he be back at Highgarden defending his family and putting roses in his hair?"
Renly laughed. "Ser Loras is a favorite of my dear brother's, as you may know. Robert accepted Loras's request to remain at the Red Keep and serve him with his sword and his life."
"Serve him?" Cersei raised an eyebrow. "Or serve you?"
"Why, I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, don't play stupid," said Cersei, lowering her voice. "The way you act together, it's obvious what you two are up to. And the thought of putting my life, and the lives of my children, in the hands of a simpering little girl who squeals like a pig when some fluffed-up peacock pokes him in the bottom...you'll forgive me if the thought does not appeal."
"It's a good thing you are the king, then, and can make such decisions," Renly said, beaming. Cersei glowered at him and swept past without another word.
"What was that about?" Loras asked, falling in next to Renly. Their shoulders brushed together, and Renly turned to him, giving him a small, private smile. A bee buzzed around Loras's halo of curls, probably drawn by the sweet-smelling perfume Renly had spilled into them while Loras slept so that his lover would smell like him.
"Oh, the usual, Cersei being Cersei. Don't fret about it. She's a vicious woman," Renly said, "but she's harmless."
Loras hooked a finger around Renly's finger briefly, then let it go.
3.
"The world is full of wonders, isn't it?" Renly turned to find Petyr Baelish leaning against the wall next to the door to his chambers. "I recently heard tell of a songbird in Pentos with six heads, and each one could whistle a different tune at a given time."
"That is a marvel," said Renly.
Lord Baelish nodded and examined his fingernails. "And closer to home, right here in King's Landing, in fact, an equally strange miracle of nature. A screaming flower."
"Indeed." Renly gave Lord Baelish a wry, closed-lipped smile. "You must stop listening to the tales of the smallfolk. No doubt someone saw a snapdragon open and before long hearsay turned it into an actual dragon."
"Ah, but this is a wonder I have witnessed myself," said Lord Baelish. "In the small hours of the night, this rare and beautiful blossom cries like a maiden with a cock inside her. I have surmised that this is all a part of its pollinating, though I am no maester and would not know for sure. I would, however, advise the man who guards this treasure to ensure that its utterances are kept as discreet as possible."
Renly shook his head and laughed, hoping that his trepidation wouldn't show on his face or in his voice. "Ser Loras is fond of flowers, as you know. I'll advise him to stay well away from this one."
Lord Baelish chuckled. "If only he could. Say, do you know what happened to that six-headed songbird?"
"I can't say I do."
"It was sacrificed in a ritual to some god or other." Lord Baelish clicked his tongue in dismay. "A shame."
"And so you're telling me you plan to sacrifice this...flower of yours? Is that it?"
Lord Baelish regarded Renly with a direct gaze. "No, I wouldn't do that. I rather enjoy that the world is full of such variety. It keeps life interesting, and keeps others distracted from the real problems, and that all works out very well for me."
"A sound philosophy," said Renly.
"Indeed," said Lord Baelish. "All my philosophies are. When it suits me to have them."
"One last thing," Renly asked, as Baelish turned to go. "How did you find out? Someone had to have told you."
"Oh, no one had to tell me. You must know that the boy truly is louder than a wild boar in heat." Baelish smiled again, baring his teeth. "I don't know what you do to him, but it's obviously working."
4.
Renly sighed as Varys shuffled up to him. The Master of Whisperers clasped his hands before him and cleared his throat, and Renly was almost certain he knew what was coming next.
"What is it you want, Lord Varys?" Renly asked. "Judging by the look on your face, I assume you haven't come to talk to me about the budget for the City Watch."
"Not quite." Varys's smile was a mild sliver. "I only wished to chat. I enjoy your company from time to time, my lord. And I consider you a cultured man, a lover of knowledge, which is something I believe we have in common. And speaking of culture, did you know that it is quite common in Myr for men to take boys as concubines?"
Renly raised an eyebrow. "Is it?"
"Nearly as common as taking young ladies as lovers, and much less likely to result in messy inheritances. Such things are alien to me, I must say, but then all matters of desire are alien to one such as me; you and your Knight of Flowers are no more strange to me then, say, your brother. Or the Queen. Or the Kingslayer."
"The Kingslayer? An odd example. I thought the Kingsguard was sworn to celibacy."
Varys shrugged. "Perhaps it was carelessly chosen. I merely meant that all men and women in the flower of their sexual vigor are strange to me, whatever their practices."
Renly raised a hand to his forehead. "I appreciate you taking the time to blackmail me, but don't bother. Everyone knows. The Queen, my brother, Littlefinger...I'd say the only person in King's Landing who doesn't know is Prince Tommen. And for all we know his bloody pet fawn has told him."
"I'm well aware that everyone knows, my lord," Varys replied. "I was simply making conversation. And do give Prince Tommen my regards when you see him. I did always have a fondness for that dear, soft-hearted blond child."
5.
"We shouldn't--" Renly whispered through clenched teeth. "Gods. Fuck." When Loras's lips touched Renly's cock, Renly found himself unable to muster up any more objections. Loras's tongue tickled the sensitive head before he opened his jaw wide to take Renly in all the way, and the warm wetness of Loras's mouth and the undulations of his tongue on the underside forced a moan out of him that echoed down the barren corridor.
Then Renly heard a sprightly clicking sound, followed by the plunk of footsteps. He gripped Loras's hair to stop him from moving.
"Uncle Renly, what are you and Ser Loras doing in my hallway?" Tommen called, hopping out of the shadows and into the patch of light shed by one of the murder holes.
"Oh, is it your hallway?" Renly said, trying to sound as casual as possible as Loras stood.
Tommen nodded. His pet fawn bent its wobbly knees and nuzzled up to his hand. "I come here with Orys to play. I like the sound of his hooves here best of all. What are you doing here and why was Ser Loras on his knees?"
Renly felt himself blush. "Uh--we were--"
"I was looking for a toy," Loras said.
Gods, Renly thought. With Tommen, mentioning toys was the worst possible thing to do.
"Why was Uncle Renly crying? Was he crying because he lost his toy?"
"He wasn't crying," Loras said. "It's a game. He hides a toy, and he has to give me hints where it is, but he can't talk; he can only make noises. It's a secret game. Only knights can play it. If you're not a knight, you're not supposed to know the rules, so you can't play it, and you can't let anyone know you've heard of it, alright?"
Tommen nodded vigorously. "Orys, come on!" He grabbed the leash that dangled from the fawn's neck and tugged it along. Eventually the skinny knock-kneed creature trotted after him, and they were swallowed by the darkness at the end of the hall.
"A game?" Renly whispered. "Couldn't you have said you were praying?"
Loras laughed voicelessly. "To your crotch?"
"As if that isn't actually the truth. Is he gone?"
Loras craned his neck to look. "Looks like it. Sounds like it." He stood before Renly and grasped his arms to pull him close. "Shall we continue?"
Renly groaned. "We shouldn't. Not here. What if he comes back?"
"He's not going to come back. And where else can we go? Our quarters are overrun by relatives. We're just as likely to be interrupted in every other hall in the keep."
"What about the Godswood?"
Loras frowned in thought. "They say the old gods of the North are watching. But I don't believe that, do you?"
Renly laughed and kissed the corner of Loras's mouth. "Let them watch. If the gods are interested enough in us to watch, I should think that would be flattering, wouldn't you?"
"That's so like you to think so," Loras said, draping an arm across Renly's shoulders. "Come on then. The gods are waiting."