Twin Flames, Bound in Silence
A Slow-Burn Between Immortal Fire
Chapter I – Too Close to Flame
POV: Aenarion
We had shared a mind since birth.
There were no secrets between us. No lies. No misunderstandings.
And that should have made it simple.
It did not.
Daenerys stood at the cliffs of Dragonstone, wind pulling at her silver hair. Below, waves shattered against black rock.
She felt distant.
Not in thought — our minds were always intertwined — but in something quieter. Something newly fragile.
You're restless, I told her silently.
So are you.
I stepped beside her.
In battle, in prophecy, in flame — we moved as one.
But now our shoulders brushed, and neither of us shifted closer.
Nor away.
Immortality makes time irrelevant.
But it does not make moments easier.
Chapter II – The Memory of Another Life
POV: Daenerys
In my first life, love had been hunger.
It had been desperation.
It had been betrayal wrapped in tenderness.
Now…
It was something slower.
Quieter.
Aenarion did not look at me the way men once had.
He did not see a queen to follow.
Or a conqueror to fear.
He saw me.
You're comparing me to ghosts again, he murmured inside our shared mind.
I exhaled sharply. You always know.
You never hide.
That was the danger.
We felt each other's fears. Doubts. Flickers of warmth we pretended not to notice.
When he trained with Rhaenyra in the yard, I felt the way her admiration brushed against him.
When I flew with Laena, he felt the freedom in my laughter.
Jealousy did not suit immortals.
But it found us anyway.
Chapter III – The Fire Between
POV: Aenarion
It happened in the dragonmont.
No court. No politics. No watching eyes.
Only magma light painting her skin gold.
She was practicing — letting her body dissolve fully into flame.
I watched too long.
She reformed slowly, bare feet touching warm stone.
"Why do you look at me like that?" she asked aloud.
Not in our minds.
Aloud.
I hesitated — which for me was rare.
"Because you are beautiful."
Silence filled the cavern.
Through our bond, I felt her pulse stutter.
We are twins, she whispered inside our minds.
We are not of this world, I replied gently. Not as they understand it.
Our rebirth had made us siblings by blood.
But we had existed before that blood.
Two souls forged in something older than flesh.
She stepped closer.
Flame flickered unconsciously along her arms.
"If we cross this line," she said softly, "there is no distance left between us."
"There never was."
The space between us burned hotter than dragonfire.
And still—
We did not touch.
Not yet.
Chapter IV – Jealousy of Mortals
POV: Daenerys
The court whispered.
They always whispered.
Rhaenyra admired him.
Daemon respected him.
Even knights and ladies watched him with cautious fascination.
And I—
I felt something ugly coil in my chest.
Possessiveness.
Immortality had not burned that from me.
That night, I confronted him on the battlements.
"You pretend detachment," I said quietly. "But you feel it too."
"I feel everything you feel," he answered calmly.
"That isn't fair."
He stepped closer, moonlight silvering his features.
"Do you think I do not feel jealousy when they look at you?" he asked.
My breath caught.
He rarely admitted weakness.
"I could command the world," he continued softly. "But I cannot command this."
His hand hovered near mine.
Not touching.
Waiting.
Our minds brushed — not in thought, but in emotion.
Fear.
Longing.
The weight of eternity.
"If we choose this," I whispered, "we choose it forever."
He smiled faintly.
"We were always forever."
Chapter V – First Flame
POV: Aenarion
There are moments that even immortals recognize as irreversible.
This was one.
No prophecy guided it.
No dragon roared in approval.
Just the quiet hum of Dragonstone sleeping around us.
She reached first.
Her fingers laced with mine.
Through our bond, sensation multiplied — warmth layered upon warmth, heartbeat echoing in stereo.
No hunger.
No desperation.
Only certainty.
"I loved once before," she admitted softly. "It ended in ash."
"Then let this begin in fire."
She stepped into me.
Not rushed.
Not fragile.
When our lips met, flame did not erupt wildly.
It coiled around us gently — controlled, intimate, ours.
Two halves that had never truly been separate.
In our shared mind, there were no words.
Only feeling.
For the first time since our rebirth in Old Valyria, we were not waiting for prophecy.
Not guarding the future.
Not preparing for war.
Just two immortal flames choosing each other.
And somewhere deep beneath Dragonstone,
The ancient magic that had bound us
Burned brighter.