king for a day ¹ ━━━━ jacaerys velaryon fanfic

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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
FUNERAL
❛ wishing i was someone else feeling sorry for myself
when i remembered that someone's kid is dead ❜

౨ৎ disclaimer
again, unedited i'm super duper
sorry! hopefully you guys still enjoy
this chapter!

EUDORA AND JACAERYS.

How guilty do you have to feel if someone who wasn't family died? How much more guilt do you have to hold when you knew it could've been prevented? If you knew the consequences of your actions would affect you gravely, would you still do it?

Eudora asked herself these questions every single second.

Three days it took for the pair to arrive at a quiet and solemn Dragonstone. Rhaenys and Rhaena were the ones to greet them as they dismounted the dragon. Jace didn't want to believe that Luke was gone, but one look at his cousin and Rhaenys said all the words he needed to hear. Rhaenys placed her hand on Eudora's shoulder, a sad smile appearing on her face. Comfort grew in Rhaena and Rhaenys knowing that the two came back alive, and yet the pain still lingered for the same reason.

"Your mother is looking for you," Rhaenys told the boy, Jace only nodding as he began to walk. Eudora, of course, was right by his side. He reached for the girl's hand on their way, fingers intertwining seamlessly. Jace's grip tightened with every step they took, knuckles turning white, as if he was scared to let go.

When they arrived at Rhaenyra's chambers the pair bowed, Eudora beginning to leave the boy's side. "Don't," he whispered, his forehead touching hers. But Eudora only shook her head.

"I'll be outside," she whispered back, kissing him on the cheek before she left, Jace only letting out a heavy sigh.

"Your Grace," he greeted his mother, Rhaenyra watched as his son approached her. "Lady Jeyne Arryn has pledged her support in exchange for a dragon to guard the Vale."

Jace's lips started to quiver with every word that came out of his mouth. He had to take a breath of air before he continued. "And Lord Cregan Stark," his voice began to break. "Has promised two thousand men—"

Rhaenyra couldn't bear to see her son cry, and yet as she approached him— his arms hugging around her body, she could only share the weight of the pain with him. The queen engulfed her son, both weeping, both holding an immeasurable amount of sorrow.

—

When Eudora left the room, she was greeted with Helaena walking up to her. "Eudora," the silver haired girl smiled, her hand resting on the Stark's shoulder. "Dragonstone has been rather quiet these days."

"And much colder," Eudora added, Helaena pursing her lips together at her words as she took the Stark's hand into hers.

"Everyone misses the boy, mourning is not the easiest thing to do and yet we're thrown into it."

"Were they able to find..." Helaena shook her head at Eudora's question.

"Only a wing and whatever was left of his clothes," she answered. "Rhaenyra flew for days, Rhaenys told me of a conversation she had with Daemon."

The Stark furrowed her eyebrows. "Of what?"

"It need not be said right now, but be aware that everyone is and will continue to act out of emotions," Helaena warned. She looked at Eudora's hand, noticing the ring on her finger. Her thumb caressed it, eyebrows knitting together in curiosity. "It's beautiful."

"It's not of importance, Helaena, with what's been happening right now—"

"You're right, my mistake," Helaena said softly. "But you must tell me soon, good news doesn't come around often."

—

The funeral for Luke was small, surrounded by the people who cared about him the most. They didn't have a body to bury, just what remained of the bow.

His dragon's wing and scraps of clothes.

It wasn't what Rhaenyra wanted to find, but it was the least she could get for some kind of closure. Silence surrounded the family, the flame roaring as the sun went down. Jace was the first person to toss some of Luke's old clothes into the fire, Joffrey following suit with a toy. The prince carried his younger brother in his arms, Joffrey gently resting his head against his brother's in return.

Rhaenyra was the last to go, holding onto what Luke wore the day he flew to the Baratheons. She hesitated to give it to the flames, hesitated to give up the last thing her sweet boy wore. Feeling the fabric, taking one last look at it, touching the embroidery of what was left, the queen lets out a heavy sigh. The thought of being able to avenge her son's death brought her body to throw what remained of Luke into the flames, her arms acting quicker than her mind. But knowing that she might, just might, be able to do something about Luke would mean he didn't die for nothing.

That nobody in her life that has passed shouldn't have died for no reason at all.

Her own brother usurping her throne was a nudge, but the death of Luke put her on the edge. If it was a war that needed to be fought, then she would do what it takes to sit on her throne. For her father, her mother, especially her son.

Eudora watched as Rhaenyra stood by the flames, her face morose and dim. She watched as Rhaena cried, tears streaming down her face and yet she tried to stand tall. She watched as Baela stood by her sister, and her parents just behind them, mourning the death of a dearly beloved. She watched as Helaena, who knew Luke during his childhood, wiped away the tears of a nephew she wished she would have known better. She finally watched Jace, who has never known a life without Luke, as he had to come to terms with the fact that his other half was gone.

The Stark felt as if she had no right to mourn the boy, only meeting him once at Driftmark during the night Aemond lost his eye, exchanging a few letters with him here and there, and only sharing one dance with him before his untimely death. Out of all the people who stood there, Eudora knew she had the least amount of time with Luke, which was heartbreaking. Here they were, a full family missing a member, and she felt like the outlier invading a circle of trust. These people knew each other for so long, and she merely married into their family a fortnight ago.

Even thinking about how she was out of place made Eudora feel guilty, selfish for thinking about herself when there was nothing left of Luke but ashes of fabric.

(( 🐉 ))