Beyond the Veil

The stillness of the night pressed heavily on Celeste’s chambers, the faint light of the moon casting pale streaks across the stone walls. The warmth of the hearth had long since faded, leaving the room cloaked in a chill that crept into her bones.

But it wasn’t the cold that kept her awake.

She might have said she’d watched every hour pass if clocks actually existed here—a fact she often grumbled about. With another sigh, she turned onto her back, her eyes fixed on the canopy over her bed. Her heart churned restlessly, her mind a storm of unease. Something was wrong. She couldn’t name it or see it, but the feeling was there, sharp and insistent, gnawing at her like a shadow with teeth.

She turned onto her side, pulling the blankets tighter around her, willing herself to ignore it. It was nothing , she told herself. Just her mind playing tricks on her, the echoes of the day refusing to quiet.

But the feeling only grew stronger. That uncomfortable weight settled on her firmly, the unsettling sensation of unease wrapping around her like a blanket.

Her breath quickened, her chest tightening as a faint prickle ran up the back of her neck. It was as though the air had shifted, thickened, carrying with it a tension she couldn’t explain.

A bad feeling.

Celeste sat up abruptly, grumbling, her black hair tumbling over her shoulders. Her breath came faster now, her heart pounding in her chest. She glanced toward the door, the faint light of the corridor slipping through the crack at its base.

She couldn’t ignore it. Not anymore.

Rising from the bed, she slipped into her housecoat, wrapping the cord around her to hide her nightgown. She grabbed her wand, its familiar weight a small comfort in her hand, and moved toward the door with quiet, deliberate steps.

She poked her head out of her chamber doors, looking left and right. Nothing. In fact, the corridor was eerily quiet, the faint flicker of torches being the only movement.

She slipped out of the room.

Her footsteps were soft and deliberate, every sense on high alert as she ventured deeper into the Red Keep. The cold stone pressed against her bare feet, but the chill barely registered—her focus was elsewhere.

Her heart quickened, the sense of foreboding growing sharper. The last time she’d felt this way was during the Battle of Hogwarts, prowling the shadowed corridors and silently dispatching fellow Death Eaters. That ominous feeling had always signaled death, and she desperately hoped this wasn’t the same.

As she neared the children’s chambers, she felt the air become heavier, charged with something she couldn’t name. 

She turned a corner, her heart racing, when the faintest sound reached her ears. A muffled cry. A hurried scuffle.

Her grip on her wand tightened, her breath catching as she strained to hear more. The sound was distant but unmistakable, echoing faintly through the labyrinthine halls.

Something was wrong.

Celeste quickened her pace, her movements silent but purposeful as she followed the noise. Her pulse thundered in her ears, her mind racing with possibilities. Was it Sirius? Aemond? Helaena?

She turned another corner and froze.

At the far end of the corridor, a figure stumbled into view. Helaena.

Her silver hair was loose and wild, her eyes wide with fear. She clutched Jahaerya in trembling arms, her breathing ragged as she hurried along the hallway.

Helaena caught sight of Celeste and whimpered. “The rats. They’ve come for him.” she whispered, lip trembling.

Celeste felt herself stiffen as a noise unlike anything she’d heard reached her ears. The unmistakable sound of blood hitting stone accompanied it and Celeste swallowed hard. 

“Go. Take Jahearya and hide. Please.” Celeste pleaded, slipping her wand out of her sleeve.

For a moment, Helaena hesitated. Then, with a sharp nod, she turned and fled, her footsteps fading into the distance.

Celeste burst into the room, her gaze instantly falling on the twins' beds. One was rumpled but untouched. The other...

Celeste covered her mouth, desperately trying to keep herself together as she took in the sight. Blood. So much blood.

Fury erupted in her and she turned back, her wand stretched out as she scanned the area.

“HomenumRevelio!” she shouted, her voice cracking with raw emotion. In that moment, she didn’t care who might see her. Her mind was consumed by a storm of anguish and hatred, all rational thought swept away.

A man became illuminated under the spell, his outline glowing in a way only Celeste could see. He stood at the far end of the passage, his back to her. He was cloaked in black, his posture rigid as he clutched a burlap sack in his hand. The sack sagged slightly, its contents unmistakable.

The man turned slightly, as if sensing her presence. His face was obscured by the shadows of his hood, but his posture shifted, defensive and alert.

“Stop right there,” Celeste hissed, her voice low and venomous. Her wand was aimed directly at him, the tip glowing faintly as she took a slow step forward.

The man hesitated, his grip tightening on the sack. “Stay back,” he growled, his voice rough and cold.

Celeste’s eyes narrowed, her fury burning through the numbness of her grief. “You took the life of an innocent child,” she said, her voice trembling with restrained rage. “And you will pay for it.”

The man laughed bitterly, his voice filled with disdain. “This is war, girl. Innocence is a luxury.”

Her grip on her wand tightened, her breath sharp and uneven. “Drop the bag,” she commanded, her voice cold as steel. “Now.”

His eyes landed on the wand in Celeste’s hand, and his laughter echoed through the narrow corridor.

“That’s your weapon?” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “A twig? What are you going to do with that, girl? Poke me to death?”

Celeste’s grip on her wand tightened, her breath coming sharp and steady. Her eyes burned with fury, the weight of the moment pressing against her chest.

“Keep talking,” she said coldly, her voice steady and sharp as the blade he carried. “It’ll only make this more satisfying.”

The man’s grin widened, his teeth glinting faintly in the dim torchlight. “Go on, then. Let’s see it. Let’s see how you plan to take me down with a bloody stick. Give me a good laugh before I finish you as well.”

Her jaw clenched, her body trembling with restrained rage. She thought of Jaehaerys, of his bright silver curls and wide, curious eyes. She thought of Helaena, running through the halls in terror.

Her fury ignited.

“ Diffindo !” she hissed, her wand slashing through the air.

The spell struck his thigh, tearing through the fabric of his cloak and biting into the flesh beneath. He let out a sharp cry, stumbling back as blood seeped through the gash.

“You bitch!” he snarled, his voice filled with pain and fury. His hand shot to the dagger at his belt, his movements wild and desperate. “The hell did you do that?!”

He lunged at her, the blade flashing in the faint light. Celeste’s heart raced, but her instincts were faster.

“ Stupefy !” she shouted, her voice echoing through the corridor.

The red beam of light hit him squarely in the chest, and his body went rigid before collapsing to the floor in an unconscious heap. The dagger clattered to the stone, landing next to the man.

Silence fell.

Celeste stood frozen, her wand still raised, her chest heaving as she fought to steady her breathing. Her gaze flicked to the man’s crumpled form, then to the burlap sack lying on the ground just behind him.

Her stomach churned, the reality of what she’d just done — and what she hadn’t been able to stop — crashing over her like a wave.

But it wasn’t over yet.

Her wand moved again, her voice low and steady as she pointed it toward the dagger. “ Expelliarmus .”

The weapon skittered further down the hall, well out of reach, as if to ensure he wouldn’t wake with a chance to use it.

She stepped closer, her breath trembling, her silver eyes narrowing as she looked down at him. The fury that had burned so brightly was now a cold, hard ache.

She’d stopped him. But she hadn’t saved Jaehaerys.

Celeste sank to her knees beside the sack, her trembling hands reaching out to close the fabric over Jaehaerys’s face. Her breath came in sharp, shallow gasps, tears streaming down her face as the weight of her failure crashed over her.

She had been too late.

The child she had sworn to protect was gone, stolen from the world in the cruelest of ways.

Her fingers curled into the burlap, her jaw tightening as she fought to steady her breathing.

They would pay. All of them.

Her chest tightened, her fingers curling tightly around her wand. This wasn’t over. Not yet. Not until she found out who was behind this.

The silence was shattered by the sound of hurried footsteps echoing through the corridor. The clanking of armour and sharp voices cut through the stillness, but Celeste didn’t move. She stayed, knelt beside the discarded burlap sack, her trembling hands clutching the edges as she tried to steady her breathing.

The guards burst into the corridor, their swords drawn and faces hard. They took in the scene quickly: the unconscious man sprawled against the wall, the blood on the floor, and Celeste, kneeling with the burlap sack still in her trembling hands.

“My lady!” one of them called, his voice sharp with alarm as he rushed to her. “What happened?”

Celeste’s breath hitched, and she raised her head to look at him, her face streaked with tears and her silver eyes blazing with fury. “He’s gone,” she choked out, her voice trembling but filled with quiet rage. “Jaehaerys is gone.”

The guard’s face fell, his jaw tightening as he looked at the sack. He turned sharply to the others. “Take that man to the dungeons,” he barked, pointing to the unconscious attacker. “Make sure he doesn’t escape.”

The other guards moved quickly, dragging the limp body away as Celeste turned her gaze back to Jaehaerys. Her tears fell freely now, her shoulders shaking as the weight of her failure consumed her.

She didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind her until Alicent’s voice broke through the haze.

“Celeste.”

Her head snapped up, her silver eyes meeting Alicent’s. The queen’s face was pale, her brown eyes wide and filled with grief and disbelief. Her breath hitched as she took in the sight of the burlap sack, the blood, and the tears streaming down Celeste’s face.

Celeste had only ever known Alicent as the impeccably composed Queen, but when the older woman’s eyes fell on the sack and the stray curls Celeste couldn’t hide quickly enough, her façade crumbled. The weight of the situation sank in, shattering her resolve.

“No,” Alicent whispered, her voice breaking as she sank to her knees beside Celeste. Her trembling hands hovered over the sack, unwilling to touch it, unwilling to believe it. “Not my grandson…”

Celeste’s lips trembled as she looked at Alicent, her voice cracking with emotion. “I tried,” she whispered, the words barely audible. “I tried to stop them, but I was too late. I’m sorry,” She gasped out. “I’m so sorry.”

Alicent’s breath came in sharp, uneven gasps as she reached out, gently cupping Celeste’s face in her hands. “This isn’t your fault,” she said, her voice trembling but firm. “You did everything you could.”

Celeste shook her head, her tears falling faster. “I should have been faster. I should have saved him.”

Alicent pulled her into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around her like a shield against the crushing weight of guilt and grief. “No,” she murmured, her voice filled with quiet strength. “Don’t do this to yourself, Celeste. You fought for him. You were brave.”

For a moment, the two women clung to each other, their shared grief filling the space between them. The weight of loss pressed heavily on both of them, but in that moment, they found solace in each other’s presence.

When Celeste finally pulled back, her eyes were red and swollen, but there was a new fire in them. A cold, unyielding determination.

“They’ll pay for this,” she said softly, her voice trembling but filled with quiet fury. “Every single one of them.”

Alicent nodded, her jaw tightening as her own tears fell silently. “Yes,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “They will.”

The guards returned, their faces grim as they reported that the prisoner had been secured in the dungeons. Celeste rose to her feet, her body trembling but steady. She turned to Alicent, her voice quieter now.

“Go to Helaena,” she said softly. “She needs you.”

Alicent hesitated, her gaze flicking to the sack once more before nodding. She reached out, squeezing Celeste’s hand tightly before turning and walking away, her steps heavy with grief.

Celeste stood alone for a moment, her wand still clutched tightly in her hand. The weight of the night bore down on her, but she didn’t falter.

She glanced at the guards, her eyes burning with quiet resolve. “Watch over him,” she said softly, gesturing to Jaehaerys. “Make sure no harm comes to his body. He deserves peace.”

The guards nodded, their expressions solemn as they stepped closer to the bag.

Celeste turned and walked down the corridor, her steps slow but deliberate.

Her grief was a flame, burning deep and steady in her chest. And she would carry it with her, using it to fuel the vengeance she would bring upon those who had taken him.

They would all pay.