Twin Flames: Embers of Family
Chapter I – A Child in Her Arms
POV: Daenerys
The Red Keep was loud with celebration.
Prince Aegon II Targaryen squirmed in my arms, small fingers grasping at the silver chain around my throat. His hair was pale gold, his eyes still the uncertain blue of infancy.
He laughed.
The sound pierced something deep within me.
For a moment, the hall faded.
I saw a tent beneath a red comet.
I saw a stillborn child with scaled skin and silent lungs.
My son.
Gone before he ever drew breath.
My grip tightened unconsciously.
Aenarion's presence brushed my thoughts instantly.
You're remembering.
Yes.
Aegon blinked up at me, warm and alive.
Not mine.
But someone's son.
And fragile all the same.
I kissed his brow gently.
"No child of this blood should be born only to die in fire," I whispered.
Chapter II – The King Observes
POV: Viserys I Targaryen
Viserys watched from the high table.
The sight unsettled him more than he expected — Daenerys holding his son with quiet tenderness.
She did not look ambitious.
She looked… sorrowful.
Otto leaned toward him. "Your Grace, symbols matter."
"Yes," Viserys murmured. "They do."
But what he saw was not a rival to his son.
He saw a woman remembering something lost.
And that softened him.
Across the hall, Alicent Hightower watched just as closely.
Chapter III – A Daughter Born
POV: Alicent Hightower
Labor was long.
Painful.
The maesters whispered prayers as dawn broke over King's Landing.
When the child's cry finally rang through the chamber, Alicent felt both relief and terror.
"A girl," the midwife announced.
Silver-gold hair.
Bright, searching eyes.
"Princess Helaena Targaryen," Viserys declared later, pride warming his weary voice.
The court celebrated.
But Alicent felt something else.
The babe did not wail like most newborns.
She stared.
As if listening to something no one else could hear.
Chapter IV – The Naming
POV: Aenarion
We visited quietly.
Helaena lay in her cradle, gaze drifting toward shadows that did not frighten her.
Daenerys leaned close.
"She sees threads," she murmured in our shared mind. "Dreamer's sight."
I felt it too — faint ripples in time bending around the child.
Viserys approached. "You wished to see her?"
"Yes," Daenerys said softly.
Alicent hesitated only briefly before allowing it.
I placed a hand gently above the infant's brow — not touching.
Flame shimmered faintly, invisible to mortal eyes.
"She will carry burdens," I said. "But she will endure."
Daenerys smiled tenderly.
"Helaena," she whispered again, as if sealing the name with more than air.
The babe's tiny fingers closed around nothing —
Yet both of us felt it.
She sensed us.
Chapter V – A Family Table
POV: Rhaenys Targaryen
The gathering at the Red Keep was meant to appear harmonious.
Rhaenyra beside her father.
Alicent across from her.
Daemon lounging with calculated ease.
The children in between.
The Twins among them — not above, not apart.
Rhaenys watched carefully.
Daenerys coaxed laughter from young Aegon.
Aenarion listened patiently as Rhaenyra spoke of Syrax's latest flight.
For a fleeting evening, it felt like what House Targaryen might have been without ambition gnawing at its roots.
Fragile.
But real.
Chapter VI – The Vault of Flame
POV: Aenarion
We returned to Dragonstone weeks later.
This time, we did not descend alone.
Viserys. Rhaenyra. Alicent. Otto. Rhaenys.
All followed us into the volcanic depths.
The stone door responded to our presence, splitting with molten light.
Inside lay a chamber untouched by time.
Treasures from before the Doom.
Valyrian steel blades.
Ancient dragonhorns.
Scrolls sealed in obsidian tubes.
And gold — but gold mattered least.
"These were not meant for greed," Daenerys said softly. "They were meant for preservation."
Otto's eyes glittered.
Viserys looked overwhelmed.
Rhaenyra looked inspired.
Chapter VII – Echoes of Valyria
POV: Otto Hightower
Otto walked slowly among relics older than Westeros' recorded history.
He studied inscriptions carefully.
One caught his attention:
For the blood that survives the flame.
He glanced toward the Twins.
"You intended these for a future war," he deduced.
"Yes," Aenarion replied calmly.
"Against whom?"
"Darkness," Daenerys answered simply.
Otto disliked vague enemies.
They could justify anything.
Chapter VIII – The Cradle and the Crown
POV: Daenerys
That night in Dragonstone, I found Alicent alone with Helaena.
"You trust us," Alicent said quietly, not looking up.
"Yes."
"Why?"
I considered the sleeping child.
"Because no mother should fear prophecy more than she loves her child."
Alicent's shoulders softened slightly.
Helaena stirred, tiny fingers curling.
For a moment, the court politics fell away.
There was only a mother.
And a woman who once lost everything.
Chapter IX – Threads of the Future
POV: Aenarion
Helaena toddled months later beneath Dragonstone's carved arches.
She paused before me and stared upward.
"Fire sleeps," she murmured — barely words, barely sense.
Rhaenyra froze.
Alicent paled.
Daenerys knelt carefully.
"What else sleeps?" she asked gently.
Helaena blinked.
"Winter."
Silence followed.
The prophecy tightened like a drawn bowstring.
Even now, the end we prepared for whispered through a child's lips.
Chapter X – Embers at Dusk
POV: Daenerys
We stood on Dragonstone's cliffs once more.
Below, waves crashed endlessly.
Behind us, the royal family dined within warm halls, unaware of how thin peace truly was.
"You held Aegon like he was your own," Aenarion said softly.
"I remember my son," I replied.
"And Helaena?"
"She will suffer."
"Yes."
I exhaled slowly.
"But perhaps less with us here."
He took my hand.
Within the castle, laughter echoed — Viserys content, Rhaenyra hopeful, Alicent watchful, Rhaenys thoughtful.
For now, House Targaryen still stood united.
The vault was open.
The children were growing.
The prophecy waited.
And we —
We chose, for this moment,
To be family.