Aemma and Luke saddled on Arrax. Then they fell.
Aemma and Luke saddled on Arrax. Then they fell.
Aemma and Luke saddled on Arrax. Then they fell.
Aemma sat up with a scream half in her throat, startling Aegon who was sleeping in a chair pulled up next to the bed. Her body screamed in agony at the sudden movement, causing a pained groan to leave her lips.
"Aemma! Fetch the Maester! Now, before I have your head!" Aegon screamed to someone outside the room before gently lowering Aemma back to the bed.
"Where is he?" Aemma choked out. Aegon looked away, retreating to the corner of the room as Aemma grabbed the basin on the table next to her bed and whipped it at him. "Luke?"
"Lucerys!" Aemma screamed. She was sobbing now, her heart feeling like it was being ripped out of her chest. "No!" Aemma did not stop screaming until her throat was raw and she could not scream anymore, just a strangled sound escaping from her throat as she wailed.
Aemond stood outside the door, jumping in surprise as Aegon pushed past him.
"How is-" Aemond was cut off as Aegon shoved him into the wall.
"You are a fool! You killed him, you nearly killed her!" Aegon's voice was a hushed whisper, but it was full of anger. "You have ruined her. I should kill you myself." Aegon shoved Aemond away as he walked down the hall.
Aemond stood at the door, daring to peek in as he heard Aemma's strangled sobs. Her face was buried in her hands, her shoulders heaving up and down as she mourned. Aemond did not intentionally do it, truly. He had thought to play God with a war dragon, and this was his consequence.
Aemma's screams and wails echoed through the halls of the Red Keep for days; day and night, she wailed for her lost soulmate. She refused to eat or drink, simply staring down at the food until it grew cold and was taken away. Aemma could still barely move, her entire body covered in deep purple bruises, the whites of her eyes red from broken blood vessels, and each breath felt like knives.
"You shattered your ribs, Princess." Grand Maester Orwyle said as he held out milk of the poppy. "You must be in unimaginable pain. I urge you to take something, please."
Aemma said nothing as she looked up at the Grand Maester, her eyes full of grief and sadness. She rolled herself over so that her back was facing him, nearly passing out from the pain.
Grand Maester Orwyle sighed as he placed the cup on the table and shuffled out the door.
"She won't take it, Your Grace." Aemma could hear the Grand Maester speaking. "She has not eaten or drank in days, I worry for her health."
"Shove it down her fucking throat then!" Aegon said. "Are you truly that incompetent that you cannot help her?" Aegon did not wait for an answer as he shoved Orwyle aside and slammed the door shut behind him.
"Aemma." He said. Aemma did not turn, her face still wet with tears. Even if she wanted to speak, she feared no sound would come out; even her cries had become squeaks due to the strain on her voice.
Aegon pulled up the chair he had sat in for hours as he stayed by Aemma's side, listening to her ragged breathing. Aemond had found her, still holding Luke's hand as they lay side by side in the sand. Luke was in the Sept of Baelor; his body being worked over by the Silent Sisters.
"You need to eat," Aegon said, resting his hand on her shoulder. Aemma remained silent, her tears still spilling over. "Luke would-" Aemma flew out of bed, knocking Aegon back in his chair as Aemma wrapped her hands around his throat. She was sobbing now, a sad sound made of squeaks and wheezes.
Aegon swallowed; Aemma was not choking him, but she was not letting go either. He simply stared at her as she sobbed, her entire body shaking as she sat on his chest. Aegon slowly untangled her fingers from his neck, shocked to find that her gloves had been removed. He took Aemma in his arms, bringing her back to her bed and setting her down gently.
Aemma wondered if anyone had ever died of grief before. She wished she could be the first as she continued to sob.
"Aemma..." Aegon said, his voice trailing off. Aegon ran a rough hand against his face as he watched the woman he loved break apart in front of him. "Please, drink this." Aegon held the cup containing the milk of the poppy to her, but she just ignored it, still weeping into her hands.
"Get... out." Aemma's voice was so hoarse and broken Aegon could barely understand her.
"No." Aegon seated himself on the edge of the bed as Aemma began sobbing again.
Aemma opened her mouth to say more, but Aegon shoved the milk of the poppy down her throat and placed his hand over her nose and mouth, forcing her to swallow it.
"Ow!" He yelled, pulling his hand back and rubbing the teeth marks that were embedded into the skin. "I'm not leaving."
"Please," Aemma whispered. All she wanted was to be left alone to rot away in peace, to join Luke.
"Just close your eyes," Aegon murmured, shifting closer to Aemma as she sobbed. Aemma tried to close her eyes, but all she could see was Luke, dead, with blood pouring out of his nose and mouth. Aemma wailed and wailed until eventually, the milk of the poppy was too strong to resist, and Aemma finally fell silent.
All Aemma saw during her sleep was Luke dying, over and over again.
YOU ARE READING
The Prince and His Flower
FantasyAemma Velaryon was the spitting image of her mother; she had pale silver hair, fair skin, and dazzling blue eyes. She was a Targaryen in all sense but her last name which she bore from her father Laenor Velaryon. She was the younger twin of Lucerys...