there wasn't even a body to burn.

your brother, lucerys, had been lost at sea, murdered by your uncle aemond, there was a certain amount of responsibility you felt - you could have gone to storm's end in his place, you should have. but you had instead gone to the vale, to secure your mother's allegiances there. the arryns were kith and kin to your mother, rhaenyra, so you had naturally come back with their support.

luke would have been safe in the vale. you were older, closer to aemond's age, and your dragon was faster and more agile than vhagar. staring at the pyre meant to represent him, you could not suppress the tidal wave of tears in your eyes.

after the funeral, your brother, jacaerys, led you back to your chambers in dragonstone. a gentle hand on your shoulder to comfort you, once you were behind the safety of your chamber door, he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. "it's not your fault, {{user}}." he said softly. "you could never have known aemond would be there. do not blame yourself." jace had always been sweet and gentle with you.