Brighter Flames (ASOIAF/AU)

Rolls have been had. Discuss in spoilers until the next update, per usual.

Aemon tiredly recalled the tales of Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince. He'd asked after his ancestor, and the maester Lyman had dutifully recounted the cold facts. Born to Baelon the Brave and his sister-wife Alyssa during the reign of King Jaehaerys the Conciliator. 'The wonder and the terror of his time.' Like Aemon, a second son. No matter the account, it was made quite clear he loved and was devoted to his elder brother, King Viserys I. The prince went on to accomplish great feats of both villainy and heroism during his days, and died after a glorious battle with Aemond One-Eye and Vhagar above the God's Eye.

Even maester Lyman could only say that he was a complex figure, neither wholly good nor evil. Daemon Targaryen never sat the Iron Throne, but he lived life according to his will and whim. A boon to his allies and a bane to his foes.

The Battle Above the God's Eye was his favorite tale of them all. Caraxes the Blood Wyrm flying against mighty Vhagar. Aemon would always ask father to recount the tale before going to bed. After much prodding, Maegor would relent with a tired smile.

Thereafter, he occasionally dreamed of soaring through the skies to battle. This dream was strange, out of focus, like looking at the bottom of a creek through muddy and ever-shifting water. Yet, it was not Vhagar and Aemon One-Eye he warred against while sleeping. He was certain of that! Instead, he flew through a dark winter night to face some winged behemoth wrought of Ice and Death.

Those dreams were always the worst. Aemon would wake up freezing covered with cold sweat, even his cries died in his throat. Feeling hollowed out, he would untangle himself from his peacefully slumbering kin to go and lay before the crackling hearth. No amount of prayers to the Seven would banish the bone-deep chill. Only the warmth of the crackling fire provided respite.

The next few days passed by in a blur as his Lannister kin arrived amidst a long list of the nobles and worthies from across the Seven Kingdoms. Only the distant North and Dorne greatly lacked representation. The Vale, Riverlands, Westerlands, and Reach all sent the pride of their chivalry to take part in the tourney.

All of the pomp and ceremony had little and less to do with Aemon. Soon, he and his siblings fell into a routine. Breakfast. Exercises in the yard. Cersei unsuccessfully tried to bully her way into the sessions, but Visenya ran and fought alongside the rest. Lunch. Lessons with a rotation of maesters. Supper. Prayers with the septons.

Jaime complained furiously that maesters and their endless scribblings would hound him to the Seven Hells.

Unfortunately, Cersei seemed thunderstruck whenever she came across the Prince of Dragonstone. She and the other maidens would cry like little babies when Rhaegar favored them with his harp and sang a sad song. That made the young Targaryen grin and laugh loudly. His father mostly kept his songs for mother, but sometimes, Maegor would sing to his children as they fell asleep. Rhaegar sounded much like a mangled cockatrice next to father's mystical music!

Daeron and Visenya were increasingly pulled away from the quintet. Being two years older meant they had different tutors, different duties. Aemon's elder brother was given training with pages and squires in thick padding. Visenya had three Septas assigned by the king as constant companions, though she delighted in absconding from their watch.

The tourney was to begin on this day, and Aemon finally found his opportunity to strike. His elder siblings had been roused before dawn while he was allowed to sleep in.

Aemon sat at the edge of a chair, his little feet kicking in the air, his mind abuzz with thoughts of shining knights and undefeated champions. However, Aemon was determined. The knights would still be there after he got even.

He grinned to himself as he looked down at his hands, stained a faint shade of blue from the dye. No amount of scrubbing got all of it off. Cersei and Jaime had no idea what was coming. The dye had been borrowed from Grand Maester Pycelle's rooms, and sneaking into the twin's chambers while they were asleep had been a feat worthy of song. Worth it. He'd fled like the wind. His laughter nearly escaped when he pictured their faces—Jaime with his sun-kissed hair half-dyed bright blue, and Cersei, so proud of her golden locks, now mottled green by the remnants of the dye.

There was no fear of reprisal. He mastered the art of fleeing after mischief, much to the chagrin of Lady Joanna and his own mother. This time he would stay to see the conflagration. This was simply too good to miss!

The braziers and candles lit the hallways of the Red Keep, casting a flickering light atop stone floors as Aemon slipped through the corridors. His soft leather boots made little sound as he moved, keeping to the shadows as he approached the chambers of his cousins. Camped out in the passageway beyond their door. He heard Cersei's screech before he saw her, high-pitched and full of fury.

"M-my hair!" she shrieked.

The heavy oaken door slammed open. Aemon carefully poked his head around the corner and saw Jaime standing beside her next to the door of their room. Both still wore their night clothes. Jaime laughed aloud as he ran a hand through the blue portion of his hair. Cersei turned on her twin looking murderous, and as usual, he quelled under her wrath. Her tiny fists were clenched at her sides, and the green patches of her hair fell over her shoulders in disarray.

Aemon guffawed. He stepped out from behind the corner with a wide grin. "Lannisters always pay their debts."

Jaime turned to him, a moment passed where the two milk brothers peered at one another. Then, ignoring Cersei's shaking fury, Jaime laughed loudly, "Better run, coz."

"Why? Our father will skin you and hang the pelt out to dry!"Cersei spun around, her eyes blazing with fury. She held back from chasing you. Cersei never could catch you.

Aemon took a step back, still grinning. He'd shared the same wetnurse as both Cersei and Jaime. He knew them as well as he knew himself. He knew all the signs of an imminent eruption. "It suits you, sweet Cersei. You could pass for Tyroshi!"

Then, she forgot her words, forgot her reservation. Letting out a sound like a cat that had its tail stepped on, she charged. But Aemon was quick. He darted down the corridor, Cersei in pursuit, her voice echoing through the halls as she called for vengeance. She cursed enough to make a Septa faint from shock. Even while being chased, Aemon filed away some of the more vile insults.

Jaime followed along, cackling as the trio caused quite the stir in the fabled halls of the Red Keep. The chase led them through the winding corridors, past servants and courtiers who gawked at the spectacle.

Finally, Cersei slowed, panting and red-faced, while Aemon disappeared around another corner. She stomped her foot in frustration. "Aemon, you just wait!"

But Aemon was already far ahead, his laughter echoing down the passageway.

Later that evening, when Lord Tywin saw his children with their mismatched hair, a rare smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. He said nothing, but the glimmer of amusement in his eyes did not go unnoticed by Aemon. There would be no flaying. Both Aemon's mother and aunt barely restrained their amusement as they levied a harsh punishment upon him. They forced him to get a dreaded haircut followed by a bath in cold water! Instead of his usual squirming and howling, he kept a wide smile throughout the tribulation.

Take what you want and pay for it!

The tourney continued over the next few days, but the tournament could not consume all their time. Besides, it was just the Melee and archery contests. He found himself more interested in the Red Keep itself. The great castle was the seat of House Targaryen, learning about the keep would be like learning the history of his paternal bloodline.

If there was one thing Aemon loved, it was learning!

While Jaime was captivated by even the least knights of the Seven Kingdoms, Cersei and Visenya became obsessed with the fashions of court. Luckily, the dye washed out, so both Lannister twins could move about without drawing untoward glances.

In a rare instance of not being a complete stick in the mud, Daeron quietly suggested they explore. "The Red Keep is full of secrets," he said one afternoon as the young quintet gathered in the godswood, away from the watchful eyes of the adults. "Father told me that there are hidden tunnels and passageways that lead all over the castle. Maegor the Cruel killed a thousand craftsmen to hide their existence. What a grand adventure to discover them."

Cersei, still sulking from her brush with green hair, twirled a finger through her gleaming golden hair. "My dress will get dirty! Who wants to skulk about like a rat?"

"We could find a place to practice," Daeron added. "They can't stop you from learning to fight if they can't find you!."

"Oh, I'd love to find somewhere away from the honorable Septas!" Visenya interjected as she clutched the hilt of her ever-present rapier.

Aemon's curiosity was piqued. The idea of secret passages hidden within the walls of the Red Keep was far too tempting to resist. "I'm in," he all but shouted. "Let's see what we can find."

And so, the five children set off on their grand adventure. Fanning out from the godswood they explored the dimly lit corridors, the dusty attics, and the narrow stairwells that seemed to twist and turn in every direction. They found old storerooms filled with forgotten relics, hidden alcoves where the light barely reached, and narrow tunnels that seemed to stretch on forever.

The children were young and other obligations occupied the vast majority of their time. Aemon never flagged in his search. He slipped away from Ser Ilyn Payne with increasing ease, and indulged his wanderlust without reservation.

After much determined searching, Aemon first discovered the entrance to a secret passage. His sharp eyes noticed one wall seemed thicker than it had any right to be. While inspecting the surroundings, he leaned against the wall in one of the lesser-used corridors. A stone moved beneath his hand. Curious, he pushed harder, and a section of the stone wall shifted, revealing a narrow doorway hidden in the shadows.

"Over here!" he called to the others, excitement bubbling in his chest. Putting a hand over his mouth, he squeaked happily as he went to find his cohorts.

After a few minutes, they gathered around the hidden door, their eyes wide with wonder. "Where does it lead to?" Visenya asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Let's find out!" Aemon replied, as he darted forward.

The passage was narrow, barely wide enough for them to walk single file, and the air was cool and musty. Candlelight pushed back the darkness. The passage twisted and turned, leading them deeper into the heart of the castle as the others followed the fearless Aemon. Climbing down a ladder while holding a candle was difficult, but Aemon managed.

After what felt like an eternity, they emerged into a small chamber hidden deep within the Red Keep. Several passages led off the chamber. They had only brought the one candle, and after fifteen minutes of exploration, Cersei's complaining about getting dirty and bored grew too troublesome. Even the opportunity of finding a secluded training area for her could not drive her forward. Thus, they turned back, but Aemon remembered every twist and turn.

In the following days, Daeron and Aemon were the only members of their group that showed interest in fully exploring these passageways, and they managed to drag along Visenya more often than not.

"One day you will live here as Rhaegar's bride," Daeron said forcefully, "You would be well served to know the whole castle."

"This has to be loads more fun than sitting in that cursed sewing circle!" Aemon added helpfully.

Thus, the three siblings extensively explored the hidden spaces of the Red Keep. Secret ways in and out of the castle were discovered. They were careful to avoid notice.

In one narrow passage, Aemon discovered an object lying in a dusty corner—an ornate golden brooch inlaid with emeralds.

Aemon picked it up, wiped off the dust with a kerchief, and turned it over in his hands. The brooch was old, but the gold still gleamed, and the large emeralds sparkled in the dim candlelight. "It's beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing the intricate design.

Daeron peered over his shoulder. "It must have belonged to someone important. Maybe a queen or a lady of the court."

Visenya nodded. "You should keep it, Aemon. It's a treasure, and you found it."

But Aemon shook his head. "No. I'll give it to Mother. This will suit her perfectly."

And so, the next morning, Aemon and his siblings presented the brooch to their mother. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took the delicate piece of jewelry from her son. "Such fine craftsmanship. Aemon, where did you find this?"

"In one of the hidden passages." Aemon grinned broadly.

"Perfect for your coloring mother." Visenya gushed.

"Oh, I knew you lot were up to some mischief." Genna smiled as she eyed her three children, her fingers brushing over the emeralds. Tears welled up in her eyes. "It's beautiful, my sweetlings. Thank you." She kissed his forehead before embracing them all.

Aemon flushed at the results of this great adventure.

When she released them, she did look at them sternly, "Those passageways might be dangerous. You could get hurt there. I'll have your oaths to stay out of there without having an adult at your side."

Daeron and Visenya agreed readily enough.The traitors! Aemon refused to lie and he refused to give up on his adventures. That's how he found himself with a quill in hand and copying from the Seven-Pointed Star, specifically the Mother's Book. A faithful son must obey their mother!

The days passed in a whirlwind of jousting and feasting. The talk of the tourney was Lord Hoster Tully, Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, defeating his brother in the lists. Many whispered that Hoster plied his more martially inclined brother drunk the night before their bout. Also, Aemon's uncle, Ser Tygett, suffered a miserable loss against the Hand of the King, Steffon Baratheon.

But for Aemon, the true excitement lay in the hidden corners of the Red Keep. While the others returned to their usual games and pastimes, Aemon covertly continued to explore the castle's secrets. He mapped out the passages in his mind, memorizing each twist and turn, each hidden door and forgotten chamber.

The Red Keep became his playground, a place where he could lose himself in the shadows and the silence, where he could imagine himself as one of the great Targaryens of old, navigating the labyrinthine halls with the ease of a conqueror. Soon, he could come and go as he pleased with none able to keep track of his passage.

Soon, his parents despaired of keeping the willful and clever boy in hand, thus they thought to grant him both a gift and a responsibility.

Aemon was given a kitten as a pet to look after. The tomcat's fur was as black as night with blue eyes. What is the cat named?
[] Balerion
[] Blackfyre
[] Midnight
[] Write-in

Additionally, there are many noble children besides his kin at the tourney. Drawing back a bit from his obsessive exploration of the Red Keep's ways, he has the opportunity to mingle with likely children from the various regions of the Seven Kingdoms. This decision may allow him to begin forging social contacts outside of his normal circle. Choose one
[] Stormlands
[] Vale
[] Reach
[] Riverlands