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Brighter Flames (ASOIAF/AU)

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Adhoc vote count started by Mazrick on Sep 22, 2024 at 10:59 AM, finished with 18 posts and 18 votes.
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I think that there is a profound lack of interest in following Visenya, Rhaella, and Genna when it could be a really useful tool. This will let us learn a fair bit mroe about how Visenya has been. How Rhaella is. We've already noticed the issues with Rhaella...the dread and resignation. She dreads Aerys. Aemon pretended ignorance there...but Visenya has lived there for a while and will continue to live there once married to Rhaegar. Spending more time with the two will allow us to hopefully pierce together more about what is going with the female Targs and indirectly learn more about Rhaegar and Aerys. I think that is valuable information to be learned...more so now that Aemon knows that the Queen is to an extent having a shitty experience currently. And Visenya is good enough at keeping her thoughts to herself (we had no idea that she knew Cersei was a monster until she told us) that she might too be having a shitty experience to some extent. Yes, maybe Aemon won't be able to do anything about their situation right now. Maybe not ever but I think wanting to learn about the truth is a good thing. It's something Aemon should want...I don't think he would willful turn a blind eye to any plight Visenya might have by sticking to ignorance.

Now I guess following Rhaegar around will certainly allow us to learn more about him...but in many ways I imagine that the Rhaegar we see through such an option will be the best face Rhaegar presents to the world. I think this is more an option where we prove our capabilities to Rhaegar and thus in turn be found to be someone that he can use for his own ends...which no doubt is something that Aemon might want for now. But it won't reveal the true face of Rhaegar or even a portion of his true nature. I get it, we might not be able to learn about Rhaegar's true face if we follow Visenya/Rhaella but I do suspect we'd have a greater chance of doing so by prying out information from Visenya who is capable.

Exploring KL with companions is more about surprise encounters/fun adventures to be had or even not so fun adventures. I don't think the Heretics are beaten...and what better chance to strike back to Targs than during this wedding? Exploring KL could possibly even reveal some Heretic plots! Though of course the chances of that are absurdly small but Aemon is a smart cookie. If anyone has a shot of sniffing out trouble in KL...it'll be him.

Alchemists option...I think that is fine and inline with Aemon's desires but we do leave out a fair bit of juicy plots to pursue the Alchemists. I'm not even sure what benefits they offer at this point in time? A bit too risky I feel.
 
Just to be clear. People are fine joining the Alchemists? Because that's what's is gonna be needed to learn their knowledge.
 
The Alchemist option sounds all good now but Maggi the Frog almost cursed our whole bloodline, I would advise Caution. The Alchemists are unlikely to teach us anything useful anyway seeing as they would not be interested in us and are half mad pyromancers. If we need a magic Tutor Melisandre is also available and we could also lead her with the belief that we might convert to Rhllor if she proves his power by teaching us some magic.
 
Honestly, Rhaegar will almost certainly do a Rhaegar thing sooner or later. I'd rather not sink any time or energy into him.

As opposed to finally getting some progress into magic. An ancient, decrepit, powerless order is actually perfect for us because they would still have the knowledge we can get but not the power to use said knowledge against us if something goes wrong.
 
Guys, Alchemists don't really offer us much. They got their magical green fire for sure but that primarily seems to be it. There are better sources for magic that we can pursue at a later point. Whatever tiny scraps Alchemists can offer us simply isn't worth the lost benefit of making a great impression on Rhaegar. Very likely that if we impress him with our abilities now, that'll be far far more helpful to us in the long run as his apable brother-in-law I can easily see Rhaegar giving Aemon more and more responsibilities to handle. Very clear path to power by getting in with Rhaegar right now.
 
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Scheduled vote count started by Mazrick on Sep 21, 2024 at 11:19 PM, finished with 39 posts and 30 votes.
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Tourney Begin
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    • The following morning Aemon found himself astride a sleek black horse alongside Rhaegar and Daeron as they trotted through the bustling grounds of the tourney. Located on a field beyond the walls of King's Landing, tents of every color, adorned with every sigil, were being raised. The air buzzed with excitement, the smell of freshly turned earth mingling with the scent of roasting meats and the distant sound of cheers as the early contests began. Rhaegar, with his silver hair and melancholic manner, seemed at ease in their company.

    The morning bustled with activity. A hundred and one things needed doing, and ever more popped up as the day continued. Even though the Tourney was in Rhaegar's honor, Aerys had dumped all of the responsibility onto his son's shoulders. A recurring theme, Aemon surmised.

    The Prince of Dragonstone was efficient as an administrator in his own right and quite a capable leader, but he came to rely on Aemon's skill with such tasks. All the years learning at Lord Tywin's knee and the further two years of study showed their worth as Aemon cut through all bureaucratic and logistical obstacles like Valyrian Steel through a Tyroshi's belly.

    "If you're half as fierce on the battlefield, then I pity your opponent's in the melee!" Rhaegar spoke with a touch of levity. Then he smiled, "This is as it should be. The Blood of the Dragon must not stand alone."

    Daeron inclined his head, his expression as stern as ever. "Visenya will prove a true bride, my prince. She is quite capable, and I will always answer the Crown's call should you ever have need."

    Aemon nodded in agreement, though his thoughts wandered. Rhaegar's solemnity and Daeron's unyielding sense of duty were admirable, but Aemon had always approached life differently. He was personable, quick to smile and quicker to indulge, and yet he had always harbored a mind for the intricacies that others often overlooked. It was a fine balance—one that allowed him to navigate the subtle dance of politics while indulging in all the pleasures of life.

    As they continued their inspection, Rhaegar began to speak of the tourney's remaining preparations, the logistics of managing such a grand event. Aemon listened carefully, noting the small details that others might have missed—the way the tents were arranged, the placement of the stands, the subtle shifting of alliances among the nobles present. Such things as keeping the Brackens and the Blackwoods separated or paying the carpenters filled his thoughts. His mind worked swiftly, piecing together a plan.

    Later that morning, as the preparations were being finalized, Aemon found himself alone among the bustling crowds. Rhaegar and Daeron went off to enjoy some falconry together, and Aemon was all too happy to take responsibility.

    There were hundreds of craftsmen at work, and many servants moving on their master's orders. While helping set up the tourney, he decided to leverage his newfound duties to gain information on the upcoming events. He moved through the throngs with ease, his presence noted but unremarkable, just another second son in a sea of banners and sigils. The Reachmen and Westerlanders he had befriended over the years were more than willing to place bets based on his tips. Most men, whether noble or common, loved games of chance.

    He was well known to be lucky after all!

    He smiled to himself. The Knight of the Bloody Cat, what he'd already started calling his Mystery Knight persona, would allow him to anonymously capitalize on this information, turning the odds in his favor. It was a game, one he played with skill and subtlety, and the rewards would be great—not just for him, but for those who trusted him.

    The money wasn't the point. He had access to more gold than any man could spend in a lifetime, but the monies he won here were a result of his own will and wit.

    Meanwhile, Daeron's relationship with Rhaegar grew stronger. The two of them found a kinship in their shared sense of responsibility, often speaking in quiet tones about the burdens they carried. Rhaegar seemed to appreciate Daeron's straightforwardness, a quality that was rare in the circles of power. As the days marched on, Aemon watched their friendship bloom with a mixture of pride and concern. Daeron was a man of honor, but the closer he grew to Rhaegar, the harder it might be for his brother to see things clearly.

    Among Rhaegar's usual entourage, there were mixed reactions to the presence of the two new Targaryens. Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, quickly bonded with Daeron over their shared martial prowess and sense of duty. Yet, beneath the surface, Aemon sensed an unspoken tension, a silent acknowledgment of the potential threat Daeron represented in the line of succession. If Rhaegar and Viserys were to fall, Daeron would be next in line for the Iron Throne—a fact that kept even the most loyal Kingsguard vigilant.

    Lord Jon Connington of Griffin's Roost, Rhaegar's closest friend, found himself momentarily displaced in the prince's inner circle. Though he hid his bitterness well, Aemon had sharp vision. Few things hid from his jade gaze. More than a bootlicker, Aemon judged Connington to be a scorned fanatic. He could see the subtle signs—the tightness around his mouth, the forced smiles. Aemon paid close attention, for Connington was a man to watch, one whose loyalty was as fierce as his pride.

    As the days wore on, Aemon found himself in conversation with Rhaegar, the two of them discussing matters of scholarship. Rhaegar's love for books was well known. The pair were thrilled to find each other fluent in High Valyrian. They spoke passionately in their ancestral tongue about the importance of history in guiding the future. Aemon listened, but he could not help but find Rhaegar's views somewhat idealistic despite being a man grown and the Hand besides. The prince believed that the influence of House Targaryen was more powerful than reality.

    That day died with the Dance.
    Aemon, ever the pragmatist, saw things differently. The Great Houses were not mere subjects to be ruled, but forces to be reckoned with. How many swords could the Reach field? Far more than the Crownlands could muster. The Iron Throne was a symbol of absolute power, but in reality it was a precarious seat, balanced on the razor's edge of competing alliances and age-old rivalries. If each Great House did not seek to gain influence over the Iron Throne, the Seven Kingdoms would have long since reverted to the days before Aegon's Conquest.

    Unwilling to strain his newfound relationship, he kept these thoughts to himself.

    As the Grand Tourney began in earnest, the grounds of King's Landing were transformed into a festival of color and sound. Banners of every hue flapped in the wind, and the sigils of the noble houses of the Seven Kingdoms were displayed proudly. The contests were many and varied, each one a testament to the martial prowess and skill of the participants.

    Jon Umber, the giant of Last Hearth, won the wrestling contest, his victory greeted with interest. Gregor Clegane, still young but already a mountain of a man, offered a heroic challenge, his brute strength on full display. Aemon's companion retired early after his loss, nursing both a black mood and one of his headaches.

    Daeron, true to his reputation, dominated the archery contest, his arrows finding their mark with unerring precision. Even the most seasoned archers acknowledged that he was the best in the Seven Kingdoms, his skill honed by years of relentless training.

    Aemon himself took part in the Squire's Melee, a brutal affair that saw many young nobles testing their mettle. He fought alongside Jaime and his companions. The fighting was fierce, the clash of steel and the roar of the crowd filling the air. Aemon fought brilliantly, his movements fluid and precise, but in the chaos, he found himself separated from his allies and outnumbered. Black Walder Frey, with a marked lack of chivalry, emerged victorious.

    In the afternoon, Aemon's skills as a sailor came in handy as he participated in the swimming contest held in the Blackwater Rush. The river's cold waters were no match for him, and he cut through the current with the ease of a fish. Brynden Tully came in a close second, but it was Aemon who claimed the victory. The crowd, which was overwhelmingly women, responded with elation. The noble maidens blushed and whispered among themselves, while the common women were more openly appreciative, their cheers echoing across the riverbank.

    Later, Aemon competed in a singing contest, only to lose to Rhaegar. The prince's voice was hauntingly beautiful, his song a lament that seemed to touch the very soul of the audience. There were whispers among the bards that the contest had been biased in favor of the prince, but Aemon paid them little mind. He had always known that Rhaegar was a man apart, and losing to him in song was no dishonor.

    The melee that followed was a spectacle of violence and skill. Ser Robert Baratheon, the Lord of Storm's End, fought with unmatched ferocity, his warhammer felling opponents left and right. Fighting alongside his brother-by-law, Oberyn Martell, Robert claimed victory, his roar of triumph echoing across the tourney grounds. Other warriors, like Brandon Stark of Winterfell, Ser Lyn Corbray, and Ser Arthur Dayne, made excellent showings, but it was Robert who stood victorious in the end.

    At last Aemon participated in a horse race around the walls of the city. The riders, unarmored but bearing the standards of their houses, urged their steeds to their limits. Aemon rode with the wind in his hair, his mind focused on the finish line. To his surprise, the competitor who came closest to beating him was Lady Lyanna Stark. The northern girl rode with a wild grace, as if born to the saddle, and when the race ended, Aemon had barely edged out the victory.

    Afterward, Aemon found himself offering to buy Lyanna a consolation drink. Lyanna insisted upon a common tavern alongside the smallfolk. Thus, they and their retinues made their way into the city proper.

    The tavern was filled with the warm glow of firelight, the low hum of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter. Aemon and Lyanna sat at a corner table, away from the boisterous crowd. Their respective guards took their own seats throughout the common room. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and ale, and a shabby minstrel played a ribald tune in the background.

    Aemon took a sip of his ale, his eyes lingering on Lyanna as she casually leaned back in her chair. The flickering light danced across her face, highlighting the fierce determination in her eyes. He had seen many women in his travels, but none quite like her. It was not her beauty that captivated his attention. Visenya, Cersei, Malora, and other noble women, not to mention the ignoble women he spent his nights with, were more refined.

    "You ride like a storm, Lady Lyanna," Aemon said, a smile playing on his lips as they sat. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were born in the saddle"

    Lyanna snorted, a half-smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Flattery, Aemon Targaryen? I expected more from you than the empty words of a southron lord."

    Aemon chuckled, raising his mug in mock surrender. "No flattery, I promise. Just an honest observation."

    "Oh, then do you have any other observations? I have heard you studied with the learned men of the Citadel. Surely, you have some wisdom to impart upon an ignorant lady." Lyanna's tone was challenging, but there was a spark of curiosity in her gaze.

    "Ignorance is no sin. Only the failure to seek out knowledge can truly be levied as a crime." Aemon leaned forward slightly, his jade gaze enveloped her, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. "You're like the North—wild, untamed, and hell to any unwelcome guest." He chuckled at that, she had a sharp tongue for any of the drunkards with wayward eyes. Seven hells, she acted so swiftly that neither Aemon nor her guards had an opportunity to intervene. He continued, "You are a wolf, not a sheep."

    Lyanna's expression softened for a moment, but she quickly masked it with a wry smile. "You speak of the North as if you know it, my lord."

    "Of course, you are correct," Aemon admitted, his grin widening. "But I've read about it, heard tales from the sailors and traders who've crossed those harsh lands. The North has always interested me. A place where men live in defiance of Winter, where the Starks have reigned long before Old Valyria was born. Where the Wall stands tall."

    The last came out with true wonder. Aemon dreamed of seeing the Wall and many of the other miracles of the world before his days were done.

    Lyanna studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Books and tales don't capture the true North, Aemon. It's more than just snow and wolves. By the old and new gods, it is a harsh, unforgiving land, but there's beauty and serenity there, too."

    "I have never had much use for serenity," Aemon nodded, his expression thoughtful. "But, where do you find that beauty, Lyanna?"

    She paused, her gaze drifting to the flames in the hearth. "In the quiet moments. The way the first snows fall across a frozen lake, how the wind howls through Wolfswood, and in the Winter roses blooming. It's in the strength of my people, their undying will."

    Aemon watched her closely, the firelight reflecting in her grey eyes. "You speak with such passion. The North is a part of you, as much as your blood and bone."

    Lyanna met his gaze, and for a moment, they were both silent, the noise of the tavern fading into the background. "And what about you, Aemon? You're a Targaryen, a trueborn descendant of Aegon the Conqueror. Do you not feel the same connection to your home?"

    Aemon's smile dimmed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. "I'm blood of the Dragon, true, but I've never seen the shores of Dragonstone. My father made sure I was raised far from King's Landing." He took a drink. Aemon wondered at his solemn mood and his open heart. It was too easy to talk to this strange woman. He continued, "Do not forget I am as much a Lion as a Dragon. I suppose, if I had to call any place home it would be Casterly Rock, not this den of vipers, but the Rock belongs to my kin. Daeron would welcome me in his hall without reservation, but that is not the same."

    His gaze shifted from the grey-eyed she-wolf and to the crackling hearth. He fell silent, only humming a song his father once lulled him to sleep with. Finally, he continued, "The world is vast, filled with mysteries and wonders. I suppose my home is wherever I can learn something new, see something I've never seen before."

    Lyanna raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A wanderer's heart in a dragon's body. That is not what I expected."

    Aemon laughed softly, "I am only a humble squire, but I am full of surprises, Lyanna."

    She tilted her head, a teasing smile curving her lips. "And what other surprises do you have in store, Aemon Targaryen?"

    An impish grin cut through the heavy atmosphere, "Now, that would be telling!"
    "Foul knave!" Lyanna laughed. She was quite pretty when she laughed.

    "Not the first time I have been called that." Aemon smiled smugly.

    "I doubt it will be the last." Lyanna said, as she took a drink.

    Their conversation flowed easily, surprising Aemon with its depth. Lyanna was unlike any girl he had ever met—willful, brash, and utterly unimpressed by his heritage. She opened up about her desire to live a life of meaning, a life she could be proud of. There were words left unspoken, but Aemon would not pry where he was not wanted, at least not with his friends. The hours passed. Aemon indulged in the conversation. Lyanna was simply easy to talk to, and showed unfettered curiosity whenever an unfamiliar subject was raised.

    They parted with fond farewells, exchanging promises to keep in touch via correspondence, but when Aemon returned to his home, he found his dealings regarding the fairer sex were not done. His mother had been a busy bee. True to her word Lady Genna Lannister had enlisted the aid of an all-too enthusiastic Queen Rhaella to help secure the interest of a number of eligible maidens in the city for the tourney.

    Chief among the maidens were Alyssa Rowan, first daughter of Lord Mathis Rowan and Lady Bethany Redwyne, and Ashara Dayne, the eldest daughter of the Lord of Starfall. Rowan lands bordered the Westerlands, and their house was one of the strongest in the Reach. House Dayne was considered less powerful, but Ashara Dayne was renowned as an exceptional beauty.

    [] Reject out of hand. Refuse to give an inch.
    [] Humor Lady Genna. Meeting is not marrying.
    [] Prevaricate. Surely, there will be time after the tourney!
     
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