The Prince and His Flower

F I F T Y - T W O

Aegon sat with his head buried in his hands as he listened to Aemma's sobs. He wondered how long someone could last without food or water. He suspected not much longer.

"Aemma, I am begging you, eat." He pushed the tray toward her, but she only stared at it before pushing it away. "Lu- he would want you to eat." Aegon corrected himself, recalling the last time he spoke Luke's name aloud to her.

Aemma remained silent, wondering if Luke could see her now, and she wondered what he made of the situation.

"Jaehaerys and Jaehaera want to see you, Aemma. They love you, but they can't see you like this." Helaena patted Aemma's arm. This was perhaps the only time Aegon and Helaena worked together on something, but they would both do anything for Aemma.

"I want to see him," Aemma said, her eyes glued to the ceiling. It still did not make sense in her mind; she felt the pain and absence of Luke, but she couldn't believe it, not until she saw him with her own eyes.

Helaena looked to Aegon, but his attention was focused solely on Aemma.

"Okay," Aegon said, his lips pursed. He did not know how this would help her, but he would burn down the entire city if it made her happy.

Aegon had ordered the Silent Sisters to bring Luke's body to the Throne Room so that Aemma did not have to travel far. She was still in a great deal of pain, only two days had passed since Aemond returned with her broken body.

"Please Princess, let me help you!" Mya cried as she watched Aemma struggle to dress herself. Aemma ignored her, crying out in pain as she struggled to lace her dress. Instead of finishing the laces, Aemma opted for a black shawl to drape over her back and shoulders.

Aemma limped through the halls, surrounded by Kingsguard as they escorted her to the Throne Room. What would have taken minutes took nearly an hour due to Aemma doubling over in excruciating pain every few minutes.

"Aemma, let me help you." Aemma was going to pull away from the hands that reached out to her, but silently allowed Aegon to bear her weight as he helped her into the Throne Room. "Leave her be." He commanded his Kingsguard who tried to follow her in. Aegon let her go in alone, knowing that she would desire privacy.

Aemma slowly made her way to the slab that rested in the middle of the Throne Room. Her mouth was set in a thin line as she looked down at Luke's body. Aemma realized how small he was, and how young they truly both were.

"You promised to stay by our side." She whispered, waiting for him to open his eyes. He didn't. "You broke our promise." Then something broke inside Aemma's chest, something broke so violently she was surprised the entire city didn't come crashing down with her.

"Luke, please come back to me!" Aemma sobbed as she fell to her knees, clutching Luke's cold, stiff hand. As she sobbed, her vision clouded over until there was nothing but the dark stormy night that half of her died on.

Luke dragged Aemma through the wet sand until the waves kissed their shoes, and he rolled her over to get a glimpse of her face.

"Aemma?" He asked, shaking her shoulder. He burst out into a fit of coughing, his lungs screaming at every breath of air he sucked in. "Aemma!"

Aemma was still, her face pale, her lips blue, and her chest did not rise or fall. She looked beautiful, even in death. Luke coughed once more, blood coming from his lips as he struggled to breathe. Luke began praying again, not for a wave, or for revenge. He prayed for his sister to live, to have warmth return to her perfect face.

"Take me." He wheezed as he lay on his back, rain battering his face. "Gods, take me!" He begged and prayed for the gods to kill him. He did not care if it was a slow and tortuous death where each breath was agony and the skin peeled from his bones; he only wished for Aemma to live.

"Please!" He was sobbing now, a strangled sound escaping his throat as he choked on his own blood, but he kept repeating his prayers. Luke reached out a weak hand and grabbed Aemma's cold one.

Luke turned his head to the side so that he may gaze upon Aemma's face. Whatever souls were made of, his and Aemma's were the same. As Luke felt his vision fade and his life slip away, he repeated his prayers once more.

"I... love..." Those were the last words Lucerys Velaryon ever spoke, for he died before finishing his sentence.

And for the first time, possibly ever, the gods granted Lucerys Velaryon his wish.

Aemma was screaming and wailing now, her hand still clutching Luke's. She had died that night, she saw it herself; chest still, face blank, lips blue. Aemma had died, and Luke had saved her.

As Aemma rose to stare at Luke's face, she could have sworn she felt his arms wrapping around her, the familiar feeling of his face pressed into her back. He loved Aemma so much that he gave his life for her, and she could still feel the echoes of his love, even now.

"I would have died! For you!" Aemma sobbed as she fell to her knees once more. Luke said nothing, for he was dead. Aemma sobbed and sobbed until she couldn't cry anymore. Her heart crumbled like ash in the wind, leaving her feeling empty and hollow, forever calling out to her soulmate to come bring it back.

Lucerys Velaryon's funeral was a sad affair; Aemma sobbed and sobbed as she recited the ceremony in Valyrian, refusing to let anyone else do it. Helaena was quietly crying with her mother, Aegon just watched with a somber expression on his face, and Otto shed his usual cold look for one of sympathy. Aemond looked like he was being burned alive, his guilt swallowing him whole and spitting him out.

"I would have gone with you to the end," Aemma whispered, touching the hardened clay that entombed her brother. "To every heaven and every hell, my love." Aemma touched her fingers to Luke's ring that sat on her hand, wishing for him to smash out of the clay and tell Aemma everything was going to be okay. He didn't.

Aemma walked a few paces away before facing the pyre once more.

"D..." Aemma raised a hand to her throat, barely able to utter the word. "Dracarys."

Aemma wailed as Terrax engulfed the pyre in flames, roaring out in grief as he watched Luke burn. He could feel his rider's pain as if it were his own, and this was the worst pain they had ever experienced.

"You are brave, Aemma." Otto placed a strong hand on Aemma's shoulder, watching as the plumes of smoke billowed in the air.

"No... he was brave." Aemma breathed, shaking off Otto's hand. "He was brave, he was good, he was kind. And now he's gone." Aemma said, the realization finally setting in; Luke was never coming back.

"And for that, I am truly sorry." Otto remained by Aemma's side. "Your mother didn't even come, what a shame."

Aemma whipped her head to look at Otto. "My... what?"

"We invited her here, so that she may say goodbye to her son." Otto lied, knowing Aemma was vulnerable and how easy it would be to get inside her pretty little head now. "I suppose we will send the ashes to Dragonstone, so that they may be placed in the crypts."

Aemma said nothing as she watched Luke burn, her tears still flowing.

Aemma lay in her bed, as she always did, crying. It was all too much to handle; the death, the fear, the loss, all of it. Aemma looked to her balcony and knew what she wanted to do. She walked to the doors and pulled them open, wincing as pain ripped through her sides.

It was a calm, hot day in the city, with not a breeze in sight. Aemma looked down at the spikes and spears that lined the dry moat, wondering how long it would take before they killed her. The hole in her chest where her heart should have been burned as she swung one leg over the ledge, then the other. As she stared down at the spikes, a smile graced her lips.