The Throne (Prince Harry fanfic #6)

Epilogue

The rumbling of televisions on came living room, but Harry ignored it. He knew what they had to say. Everyone reported Lucy's death, as it was now a global event. Flowers and cars would've been sent. Things would've pooped up here and there. Harry wasn't sure if he could take it. His heart was already hurting.

The bed that used to hold them was still big enough, and Lucy's body was yet there. It was yet warm. The royal physician would've been back in an hour to take it away. Until then, Harry could've stared at his beautiful wife a little while longer. Harry lied next to her but refused to touch her. She looked delicate, so breakable, but Lucy managed to survive everything. Today was just different.

It didn't look any different, from the numerous times she slept to the numerous of times she was in the hospital. She always woke up. She just wasn't going to wake up this time. His heart ached more. His left arm began to ache, and Harry shifted to try to make it feel better.

Lucy's letter was pressed to his chest, and he pretended like he could still feel her heart beat. No, it wasn't there. His own heart pounded.

"Luce," Harry whispered softly, "Luce."

He wanted her to wake up, but it didn't work.

"I love you, always, and you go then. Off you go. And I'll see you soon, if there's an afterlife. You never really believed in it, but I want to see you again. So I hope there is one. I just want another moment with you."

Harry's blue eyes rested on Lucy's calm and pulled back face. He squinted and the young Lucy appeared. Her laughter filled the room as it spun around him quickly. Harry shifted on the bed again. He reached out and took her hand, holding it carefully.

"I'm right here, Luce." Harry swallowed. "Actually, Luce, I think I'm coming your way."

Eyes focused on her, his breaths grew shallow. His heart continued to pound and then slowly it drifted off, much like the rest of him. Harry stayed staring at his wife. It grew calm.

"Dad." Freddie entered the room with Henry behind him. "Dad." Freddie walked over. "Dad, I'm sorry. I know, but I think you should come rejoin us. It'll make you feel better." Freddie tried to shake his father awake. It didn't work. "Dad," Freddie said seriously.

"Freddie," Henry warned.

"Dad!" Freddie tried again.

"Freddie!" Henry called, and the older brother looked back. "He's dead. He's with her, if they're somewhere. They're okay."

"But he can't just...."

"He did." Henry frowned and then walked over to the door. "I'll go call the physician back, and someone will have to tell the media. They're going to have a field day." Henry glanced at his older brother. "Do you want me to stay?"

"No," Freddie said, "because you're right. If there is an afterlife, they're together, like they're meant to be." He backed away from his father. "He died from a broken heart, but we always suspected he would."

"They died together," Henry said. "They loved each other. They were meant for each other. Finally, the world will leave them the hell alone." Henry walked out of the room.

Freddie laughed but watched his parents carefully. He hated to admit it and he didn't want to lose his parents on the same day, but at least they were together.

When the news came out the next morning, it was almost a romantic sentiment. The Duchess of Windsor, Lucy Smith, aged 78, died of cancer. Her husband, Duke of Windsor, better known as Prince Harry, died at the age of 91 from a broken heart. He couldn't bear to live without his wife, and thankfully he didn't have to live without for a long time.

And they were mourned. It was all quiet. The people who truly watched their love bloomed died long ago or were now in old age. Stories were told and videos were shown. In a digital age, everything was remembered and recorded, like their marriage and videos. It was everywhere. Suddenly the world mourned their deaths because of the repetition of such videos and stories.

Harry was told for his kindness and humor. In a monarchy known being rigid and rule driven, there was Harry, a shining light. He had this energy about him. It made people feel welcomed and loved. Every moment of every day he let light shine upon a new person and a new idea and a new cause. If you met him, you felt loved and respected. He cared about the most in need and then he cared about all others.

Lucy was remembered for her bravery. When she was alive, it wasn't really talked about. All that she had done didn't matter, because no one wanted to talk about it. Upon her death, suddenly it was brought up. People wanted to know about her when she was sixteen. People wanted to know about her work with refugees. She brought things into the light that Harry lit.

Their work together was out shined, however, by the love they had for each other. It was an easy topic to talk about. Even with times that they were apart and people felt the pull, the couple was always together. They came back together. They stayed together. And it wasn't always perfect, but that was what made it real. People understood that. People saw that.

Their love was their calling. It was to each other, and it was to doing better. Both wanted to shed light upon the world. Both wanted to make it a better place. Both were willing to die for their causes. It was just luck that they lived so long. And happily they lived long in the arms and love of each other.

A joined funeral was held a week after the deaths of the couple. Two weeks after the deaths, they weren't really remembered. The world continued to move, and you had to move with it.

(3/3)