Renly
His brother had brought him back a banjo from a trip to the north when he was twelve. The purposes of the trip had been two fold - a visit to Renly's uncle Ned, and to give a speech at a university that sat in the shadows of the great Stark fortress of Winterfell.
"Ned said you might like it," Robert had explained, slapping Renly on the back and ignoring the glare that his pretty wife (who didn't like Renly at all) was giving them both. "He'll teach you, if I can ever get him out of local government and down here."
Renly goes to university with a banjo slung over his back. Robert got his wish, Ned Stark had come to King's Landing to serve in Robert's cabinet, and Renly had grown up in a world of politics and smoke-filled back room dealings. Renly had grown up seeing more of his Uncle Ned than Ned's own children as Robert, Ned, and a coalition lead by the Lannister golden boy dissolved parliament, called for elections and rose to political prominence all in the course of what felt like years of long, hard-fought war.
He's too young to remember anything else, an uncle at already and going away from the protective bubble of his brothers' careful watch for the first time in his life. He'd lingered, after finishing school, to help out and try his hand at politics, but one year had turned into two years of mind-numbingly dull clerking for his brothers and uncle. He could speak the language of politics, but without some sort of a degree, they all said, he was useless to them beyond being a very efficient clerk. He'd spent a year teaching under-privileged children too, trying to see if he liked that before he invested four years into a degree in it.
"D'ya really play that?" The girl across the hall wants to know as he settles into his new home in the student housing complex a few blocks from the university. She's popping gum and staring at Renly's battered banjo with some trepidation. "Because you and the guy in 3G should get together and make some music sometime." She waves her hand dismissively. "He's from the Reach, I think, so he's probably never met a northman, but I saw him moving a keyboard into his room."
"I'm not..." Renly begins, but the girl is gone smacking her gum and closing her door before Renly can clarify that he's not from the north at all. He's never even been there. He's saved the moment of standing awkwardly in the middle of the hallway by his phone, and he answers it to hear his brother's voice on the other line.
Stannis is calling to see if he's settled. Robert probably won't call at all, but Renly is used to that. He leaves the door half-open and heads back to his bedroom, slumping down onto the mattress that he's yet to put sheets on.
"They think I'm from the north," he whines.
"It's the beard, Renly," Stannis says with a chuckle. "Even if you're older than most of the first years, you're far too young to have one. Just shave and they're sure to recognize you for who you are." He pauses, "Or were you sitting in your room picking on that damn banjo again?"
Stannis has never been much of a fan of the banjo. But then again, Stannis hates fun.
"I was moving it into my room," Renly replies, "The girl across the hall saw it and made all sorts of totally wrong assumptions." He sighs and listens to Stannis talk his ear off about what Robert's up to, and his worries about the pending debt crisis that's facing the nation. Renly just wants to be in school, but it seems the politics will follow him no matter where he goes.
He's half-way unpacked when there's a knock on the half open door. "It's open," Renly calls, shoving boxers and underwear into a drawer hurriedly. He tugs on the collar of his battered t-shirt advertising some community run he'd participated in a few years ago. It is impossibly stuffy in here.
A guy with curly brown hair and a charming smile is leaning against the doorway. He's wearing a terribly garish floral-printed polo, but Renly supposes that those are at least somewhat fashionable right now. "Are you the one with the banjo?" he asks, and he's raising an eyebrow, looking impossibly intrigued.
He looks as intrigued as Renly feels, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck and pointing to where he's carefully left the banjo leaning against the wall. "You the guy with the keyboard?"
"That's me," the guy says, bending to squint at the banjo. "I've never seen one of these in person, they're not really popular back home," he confesses, trailing one finger almost reverently down the neck. "I love northern music though."
"So does my uncle," Renly says with a small smile. "He's from up there, Winterfell." He jams his hands into his pockets. He doesn't know why he's almost hesitant to say where Uncle Ned is from. Winterfell's a big place these days, not like how it used to be, a simple castle on the moors.
"And you?" The guy asks, straightening up. His smile is almost distractingly charming, and Renly's grateful for his beard - it hides the flush he fells creeping up the back of his neck. "You don't have a northern accent."
"Nah, I'm from here," Renly answers. He's about to introduce himself when a girl's voice comes in from the still open doorway.
"Loras, grandmother wants to say goodbye," A girl with the same brown curls as Renly’s new friend. She is maybe a handful of years younger than him at the most, sticks her head into the room. She takes in Renly for a moment, her eyes narrowing and Renly knows going off of how she looks at him that she knows exactly who he is. What's interesting, at least to Renly, is that she makes no move to identify him as the Prime Minister's little brother. "Oh--" she starts, smiling prettily at both of them from the doorway.
A second voice filters down the hall, and the guy’s (who Renly can only assume is called Loras) shoulders slump. "Where did that boy get to, doesn't he know who valuable my time is?"
"Coming, grandmother!" He calls, looking only a little exasperated. He steps forward, offering a hand to Renly. "I'm Loras," he says, all charming smile and flashing very white teeth. Renly thinks he could be a movie star, given the right role.
"Renly," Renly replies. He recovers himself nicely enough to shake well, as Robert and Stannis had taught him, and he encounters a firm handshake and warm, soft skin.
"We should jam sometime."
"Definitely."
-
Loras knows who Renly's brothers are, that much is obvious after the second time they have a conversation lasting more than a passing greeting in the hallway on their way to or from class. Renly supposes that turn-about is fair play, given the private little smile that graces Loras' charming face as he looks up from a rather unfortunate photo of Robert with the banner headline 'PM SAYS DEBT CRISIS "A LAUGH"' splashed above the fold. Renly knows who Loras' father is, and, perhaps more importantly, who his grandmother is. There are headlines about them in the papers as well
What is so refreshing about Loras is that he doesn't ask Renly about Robert's slowly eroding control of the party, or about politics at all. He asks him about music, about his classes, and what he wants to do at the weekend. Renly learns things about him in dribs and drabs, snatching fragments of conversation and trying not to become too enamored with this beautiful guy from Highgarden and his wonderful southron charm.
Renly finds out that Loras grows practically everything that can take root in dirt on his balcony one afternoon over a discussion on the best beers they’ve had. They’re impossibly impoverished, drinking some of Loras’ brother’s homebrew out of mason jars on the balcony of Loras’ apartment. There’s so much green here, and Renly’s entranced at how Loras has managed to get roses, of all things to grow in a container garden. Loras explains it, leaning in so close that they’re touching, talking about soil weights and composition. “I could start something for you,” he says, encouraging Renly to do the same as he with a gesture of his mason jar to the far corner of the balcony where he keeps his supplies.
Renly, who has a brown thumb, tells Loras that he'll keep an indoor plant only if Loras comes by and reminds him to water it. Regularly.
They're flirting.
They're flirting and it makes Renly really nervous.
It isn’t that people don’t know, Robert and Stannis both do and are totally fine with it. Robert’s wife had been worried, briefly, about how her children would be affected, but her brother had stepped in and had pointed on that literally nothing had changed about Renly since yesterday, except that he could finally be honest with them. Renly had been forever grateful that Jaime Lannister, despite all the bitchiness of his sister, is a decent enough guy. It is more that Renly’s never really been in a position where he can more than be attracted to someone from a far. Loras is pretty outrageously gay, and he doesn’t bother to hide it.
The girl across the hall catches them watching a movie together with the door open late one night with the sound on low. Loras is making fun of the 'great buffoon of a man' who is playing the romantic lead, while Renly picks out a melody on the ever-fascinating-to-Loras banjo.
"Do you guys need me to close the door?" She calls, one hand on the handle. She’s got a knowing smirk on her face and her eyebrows are waggling dangerously.
Renly goes scarlet, blushing up to the tips of his ears, and glances at Loras. He has a healthy flush on his cheeks as well, but just shrugs. "If you want," he says, in that effortless dismissal that Renly knows comes from a childhood growing up in the shadow of one of the greatest political and philanthropic forces in all the country.
Their neighbor closes the door and the banjo is forgotten as the implication of what she'd thought they were up to sits heavily on the air around them. Loras turns, knee curled up to his chest and his arm slug casually over the back of the couch.
"She seriously thought--" he laughs then, high and beautiful. "I would never with the door open..."
And somehow Renly swallows all of his nervousness and cocks his head to one side. "Well," he points out. "The door is closed now."
"So it is," Loras replies. "So it is." And Renly spends rest of the night tangled up with Loras and wondering why the hell he didn't think of doing this sooner.
-
They vibe, and Loras' endless fascination with Renly's musical ability leads them to a quiet bar on a school night, drinking beer on a six inch raised platform that purportedly is a stage. It's an open mic night and Loras has signed them up under the name 'rosenstag' and Renly thinks it's horrible. He's said as much, and Loras has replied that he's more than welcome to think up a better name for their act because the next best he can come up with is 'synthbanjo' and that's just as horrible.
Loras has figured out how to create beats that actually fit with the banjo. The two musical genres should not go together. Northern music is not the smooth, polished, electronic sound of the Reach and they both know it. It's a musical odd couple, but as Renly settles the banjo on his lap and Loras makes a last-second adjustment to his keyboard there's something that comes over him then. He knows. He just knows that this is the start of something great.
The tiny crowd leans forward, intrigued and skeptical of their sound. Some people know them, know Renly or Loras though their family's reputations, but most people have no idea who these two guys in vests and collared shirts and cheap plastic sunglasses are. Renly's ears are scarlet the entire time he sings, but Loras is smiling at him, and honestly, that's enough to drive all fear from his mind.
And the people there like them. They ask about how they’d decided to combine too completely alien styles of music together. They buy beers for Loras and Renly and the bar’s owner tells them that they’re great.
They get asked back two weeks later, to perform an opener for some lady-fronted band that Loras and his sister both like, and Renly finally gets formally introduced to Margaery. She's actually quite charming, flirty until she sees how Renly looks at Loras, after which she informs them that their band’s name is absolutely horrible and that they'll need a better one as soon as possible. Renly is pretty sure he agrees with that sentiment, but he’s got nothing and Loras’ naming skills are legendarily terrible, by Renly’s estimation.
It is their first official gig, and Renly's nervous that some of the prime minister’s body guards that he's always secretly called the King's Guard after the stories of King's Landing's past that he'd grown up hearing from Stannis and his Uncle Ned are going to swoop in and sweep him off the stage. He hasn't told Stannis or Robert that he's doing this, and it's a sort of little thrill just thinking about doing something so completely and utterly outside the old political juggernaut that is his family. He wonders if Loras feels the same way, but he has his grandmother's blessing, at least according to him. Margaery is the one who's going to steal Robert's job, apparently.
She just has to grow up a little first, Renly thinks. She looks impossibly young, in a sundress with big black 'x' marks on her hands, leaning over Loras' keyboard and helping him to tune Renly's borrowed guitar.
"You'll be great," she whispers to them both when they’re waiting back stage, kissing Loras' cheek and squeezing Renly's hand. "Break a leg."
"I think that's only for theatre," Loras points out, running anxious hands through his hair.
"Whatever," Margaery replies, turning him by the shoulders and pushing him out on stage. Renly follows, half a step later, and the lights are so bright he can barely see the gaggle of people gathered in front of the stage.
Loras walks to the front of the stage and puts a hand over his eyes, staring out at the crowd. "So," he says, his voice full of false gravitas that Renly can hear but everyone else probably cannot, "You've never heard of us."
The crowd laughs and Renly watches as Loras explains that they're students, that this isn't the usual opening act for the band that's coming up later, because their lead singer hurt his ankle. "Anyway," Loras explains. "We haven't got a name yet, because my sister thinks I don't have a creative bone in my body," he winks at Renly, "I've been assured I have several."
Renly shakes his head and plays a pretty terrible rimshot, which sounds weird as hell on a banjo, but the crowd giggles and Renly relaxes into the music.
The way that Loras has arranged the music is actually pretty ingenious. Renly will pick up a melody, play it for a few bars, before Loras folds it neatly onto the keyboard synth and Renly is able to progress the song once more. It creates this dreamy, twangy feel that is upbeat while still feeling relaxing. They play three songs with the banjo and one with the guitar, the song that Renly wrote about something he'd read for one of his history classes. It’s about a girl whose spirit was trapped in an animal, and how the animal was killed before her body died. It's haunting, definitely Loras' favorite if the wide, bright smile on his face is anything to go off of after they play the last cord. The crowd is... actually into it, and by then the crowd for the main event is pretty thick. Their applause is enthusiastic, to say the least.
"I'd say suggestions are always welcome for a name," Loras says as they collect their things. "But we don't even have a website yet so..."
Renly leans over and takes the mic from him. "I'll get right on that." He gestures towards the back of the bar. "We'll be back there for the rest of the night, if you want to come say hi."
They're sweaty and gross when they get off stage, and Margaery is over the moon. She jabs an accusatory finger into Loras' chest. "You never told me you were good."
Glancing at each other, they both grin sheepishly and let her hug them, sweaty college boys and all.
-
They never really decide on a name for the band. On paper, they're 'rosenstag' because literally no one can think of anything better, but really they're known around King's Landing as 'That band with the Banjo' and people actually are coming out to see them, not the bands that they're opening for.
It's strange, Renly thinks as he watches Loras sleepily doodle on the corner of his biology notes as they're studying for finals, it feels like this could go on forever. He’s never had easy companionship like this before, or someone who has never asked for him to be anything more than who he is. He could, he realizes, be head over heels in love with Loras Tyrell.
“Oh,” Loras’ voice pulls him from his thoughts. Renly rubs at his mouth and regards Loras, pen resting against his chin. “You’d gone all vacant.”
“Just thinking…” Renly replies, pushing away his history notes.
“What about?”
“You.” And he’s flushing when Loras leans over and kisses him slow and easy. Renly tangles his fingers in Loras’ hair and this is so perfect that he just wants it to last forever.
-
Over the winter break, Loras talks Renly into coming down to the Reach for a week after all the holiday festivities have finished. He takes the train because explaining to Stannis why he needed the car for the week didn't sound particularly fun. As soon as Stannis heard the word 'Reach' or, gods forbid, 'Tyrell' he was bound to get defensive and then Renly would never get anywhere.
Margaery is taking a film class, or something, and somehow manages to sweet talk them into 'helping her with a project' that boiled down to them frolicking, essentially, in the river than ran behind Loras' house. She sets it to one of their songs and hands it in for credit, Renly has a private moment of being appalled as to what constitutes 'school work' for kids these days.
Somehow, and Margaery swears that it wasn't her; the project winds up on the Internet. Renly doesn't really mind that, the wide shot that Margaery had done the video in makes it next to impossible to tell who they are, especially with the grainy quality of the upload.
They've hit 20,000 hits on that video when Stannis calls, utterly irate.
"Where are you?" he demands before Renly can even say hello.
"Loras's family's house," Renly says, looking sheepishly at Loras and Margaery, who are looking at him curiously. He’d warned them that this might happen. Loras’ grandmother hand thought the whole thing hilarious, but told him that acting so gaily, so publicly, was probably not in his best interests. Going off of Stannis’ tone, she might have had a point.
"Which is where?"
"Um, Highgarden?" Renly ventures twisting the hem of his shirt around his finger.
"You and Loras Tyrell shot a video of yourselves frolicking like a bunch of queers in a river and had the gall to upload it to the Internet," And Renly would have laughed, because Stannis sounds so completely and utterly offended by the really non-threatening video that it's almost funny, if it isn't so terrible. Renly swallows worriedly. "I'm sending a car. Do you have any idea the scandal you have just kicked up?"
They never perform without their faces obscured again. It is the compromise that Renly makes with Stannis (because Robert thinks the whole thing is a laugh and slaps Renly on the back when he hears about it) and Loras goes along with it because he has a thing about things matching. Eventually they settle on simple theatre masks that cover the eyes mostly. Renly makes a headband and attaches plastic antlers to it, since he is a Baratheon, and they are stags. Loras wears a crown of roses in his hair. They’re absolutely ridiculous, according to Margaery. They are the rose and the stag now; they can never be Renly and Loras, aspiring musicians, ever again.