Shadows And Starlight: {~Allies In War~}

Whispers Through Time: {~Whispers of Destiny~}

A/N: IT'S THE FINAL CHAPTERRRRRR!!!! I really hope you guys enjoyed this story and the journey in it!

Summary: After being mysteriously transported into the world of House of the Dragon, a modern-day woman poses as a seer to gain entry into the Targaryen court. Armed with knowledge of the future, she secretly warns Rhaenyra and Daemon of looming dangers while hiding her true identity. As she grows closer to both, romantic tension builds, but so do the risks of her deception. With Daemon's suspicions rising and Rhaenyra’s trust deepening, the reader must navigate her lies while trying to alter their tragic fate—before everything unravels.

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Word Count: 1125

Tag List: @snowtargaryen, @hippiedippiekitty

Chapter 10 (Final Chapter)

The dawn had broken across the sky, casting a soft, golden light over the Red Keep. The air was still, as though holding its breath in anticipation of what was to come. The reader stood at the window of her chambers, watching the city below slowly come to life. But her mind was far from the bustling streets of King’s Landing.

Last night’s confessions weighed heavily on her, the truth she had finally revealed to Rhaenyra and Daemon still fresh in her mind. There was no turning back now. They knew everything—or at least as much as she dared to tell. Her secret had been laid bare, and the future of Westeros teetered on the edge of uncertainty.

She could hear footsteps behind her, the quiet sound unmistakable. Turning slowly, she wasn’t surprised to see Rhaenyra and Daemon enter the room, their expressions unreadable. They had come together, just as they always did—united in everything, including the questions that still lingered in the air between them.

“You didn’t come to us this morning,” Rhaenyra said softly, her eyes scanning the reader’s face. “We were worried.”

The reader forced a small smile, though the weight in her chest remained. “I needed some time to think,” she replied. “There’s a lot to consider.”

Daemon’s sharp gaze lingered on her for a moment before he stepped forward. “You’ve been keeping a lot from us,” he said, his voice calm but with a faint edge of accusation. “Now that we know... what’s next?”

The reader turned away from the window, facing them both. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I never planned to stay here this long. I thought I’d do what I needed to and... leave before anything got complicated.”

“And yet, here you are,” Rhaenyra murmured, stepping closer. Her voice was gentle, but there was a firmness to it. “Inextricably bound to our fate.”

The reader nodded slowly. She had been so careful—so determined to avoid changing the future too much. But now, standing before them, she realized that her mere presence had already altered the course of events more than she could ever have anticipated.

“I thought I could control it,” the reader said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But everything is different now. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

Daemon crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe it’s not something that needs fixing,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “Maybe this is how things were always meant to be.”

The reader’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. “You don’t understand. I’ve seen what’s supposed to happen. I’ve tried so hard not to interfere, but... the closer I got to both of you, the more I feared I would change too much.”

Rhaenyra reached out, taking the reader’s hand in her own. “You think we’ll fall apart because of you,” she said softly, her thumb brushing gently across the reader’s knuckles. “But fate is never as rigid as we might believe. Maybe it was always meant to bend.”

Daemon’s gaze softened as he watched the two women before him, his expression unreadable. He stepped closer, placing a hand on the reader’s shoulder. “The future isn’t written in stone. Whatever happens next, we’ll face it together.”

The reader’s heart clenched at the warmth in their words, but the fear that had gripped her for so long still clung to her. She had spent so much time trying to distance herself from them, to protect the future she thought she knew. But now, she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to keep pushing them away.

“I’m afraid,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Not just of what might happen to you... but of what might happen to me.”

Daemon’s hand tightened on her shoulder, his voice low and steady. “You’re one of us now. Whatever comes, you won’t face it alone.”

Rhaenyra squeezed the reader’s hand gently, her eyes filled with quiet determination. “You’ve already changed our lives in ways you can’t even imagine. And we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The reader’s throat tightened with emotion, her heart swelling with the intensity of the moment. She had spent so much time running from her feelings, from the fear of what her presence in this world might do. But now, standing here with Rhaenyra and Daemon, she realized that perhaps fate wasn’t something to be feared. Perhaps it was something to embrace.

“You’re both so certain,” the reader said, her voice thick with emotion. “How can you be so sure that this is the right path?”

Rhaenyra’s eyes met hers, and there was a fierce certainty in her gaze. “Because you’re part of it,” she said simply. “We’re stronger with you.”

Daemon nodded, his expression serious. “Whatever comes, we face it together. No more hiding.”

The reader swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their words settle over her. There was no more running. No more pretending that she could somehow keep herself apart from them. They had already bound themselves to her, just as she had unknowingly bound herself to them.

“I can’t promise that everything will be perfect,” the reader said softly, her voice wavering. “But... I don’t want to keep running anymore.”

Rhaenyra smiled, her grip on the reader’s hand tightening. “Then stay,” she whispered. “Stay with us.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the reader allowed herself to breathe. The fear that had consumed her began to loosen its grip, replaced by a cautious hope. She wasn’t sure what the future held—none of them were. But for now, that uncertainty didn’t feel like a burden.

It felt like a promise.

Daemon’s hand slipped from her shoulder, and he moved closer, his gaze intense as he looked between the two women. “We’ll carve our own path,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet resolve. “Together.”

The reader nodded slowly, a sense of peace settling over her. She had been so afraid of changing things—of disrupting the future she thought she knew. But now, standing here with Rhaenyra and Daemon, she realized that maybe the future wasn’t something to fear. Maybe it was something to shape.

With them.

As the three stood together, a quiet understanding passed between them. Whatever the future held, they would face it side by side. The reader no longer felt like

an outsider looking in. She was part of this world now, as much a part of Rhaenyra and Daemon’s story as they were a part of hers.

And for the first time, she wasn’t afraid.

Whispers of destiny echoed in the air, but for now, they were content to let them fade into the background. The future could wait. Because they were exactly where they were meant to be in this moment.

Together.

Whispers Through Time: {~Revealing the Truth~}

Summary: After being mysteriously transported into the world of House of the Dragon, a modern-day woman poses as a seer to gain entry into the Targaryen court. Armed with knowledge of the future, she secretly warns Rhaenyra and Daemon of looming dangers while hiding her true identity. As she grows closer to both, romantic tension builds, but so do the risks of her deception. With Daemon's suspicions rising and Rhaenyra’s trust deepening, the reader must navigate her lies while trying to alter their tragic fate—before everything unravels.

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Word Count: 1106

Tag List: @snowtargaryen

Chapter 7 --- Chapter 8

The candlelight flickered over the faces of the trio, casting long shadows that danced across the cold stone walls. The weight of the moment settled thickly in the room, silence punctuated only by the soft crackle of the fire and the distant clatter of footsteps outside. The air between them felt charged, every breath heavy with anticipation.

Rhaenyra stood near the hearth, her hands clasped in front of her as she studied the reader with careful eyes. There was warmth in her gaze, but it was edged with something harder—uncertainty, perhaps even suspicion. Daemon lingered closer to the door, his presence as commanding as ever, though his expression was more relaxed. The subtle tilt of his lips suggested he found the situation amusing, though beneath the surface, he was every bit as alert.

The reader, caught between them both, felt the gravity of the moment. She had been careful, incredibly so, but now, the game was up. They had found her notes, pieced together the warnings and advice that had seemed to appear from nowhere. Rhaenyra had demanded this meeting, and Daemon, loyal to his wife, had come with her. Now, they wanted answers.

“You've been leaving us... these,” Rhaenyra started, holding out the parchment that contained the most recent warning, her voice calm but edged with steel. “Your words have proven to be true so far, but you’ve been hiding your intentions.”

The reader swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest. She had expected this moment to come eventually, but not like this—so sudden, with both of them confronting her. She tried to keep her face neutral, though she could feel her pulse quicken under Rhaenyra’s sharp gaze.

“I had to be cautious,” the reader said quietly, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “You would not have believed me otherwise.”

Daemon moved closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied her, though his tone was teasing. “Oh, we’re well past the point of disbelief. You’ve proven yourself far too knowledgeable for a simple midwife.” He tilted his head slightly. “What exactly are you?”

Rhaenyra’s gaze flickered to Daemon briefly before settling back on the reader. “You claim to be a seer,” she said, her tone careful. “But your warnings, they seem almost too precise. Almost as if…” She trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

The reader took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. She had to choose her words carefully. “I never said I was a seer,” she corrected gently. “That is what you assumed.”

Rhaenyra’s lips tightened. “Then what are you? How do you know what’s coming?”

There was no easy answer. The reader had thought long and hard about this moment, about what she could say if they ever confronted her. She couldn’t reveal the truth—that she was from a world far beyond theirs, that she knew their history because it had already been written in her own world. It would make her sound mad. So, she offered them the best version of the truth she could manage.

“I have dreams,” the reader said softly, her eyes locking with Rhaenyra’s. “Dreams of things that have not yet come to pass. They are vague, fragmented, but I see enough to understand that some events... can be prevented.”

Rhaenyra seemed to consider this for a moment, her brows furrowing. “So you dream of the future,” she said slowly. “And you’ve used that knowledge to warn us?”

The reader nodded, feeling the tension between them ease slightly. “Yes,” she said, keeping her voice calm and measured. “I’ve only ever wanted to help.”

Daemon’s eyes flickered with something unreadable as he crossed his arms, leaning against the table. “And why help us? What do you gain from this?”

The reader hesitated. She couldn’t tell them the real reason—that she was trying to survive in a world that wasn’t her own, that she had no choice but to align herself with them because they were her best chance at safety. Instead, she chose the safest explanation.

“Because I believe in your cause,” she said finally, her voice soft but resolute. “I believe that you are the rightful rulers of Westeros. And I believe that the Seven Kingdoms will suffer if your enemies succeed.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes softened slightly, though there was still wariness in her gaze. “You could have come to me,” she said quietly. “You could have told me the truth from the beginning.”

The reader dropped her gaze to the floor, guilt gnawing at her. “I didn’t know if you would trust me,” she admitted. “I thought... if I could prove my knowledge first, if I could show you I was telling the truth...”

Daemon let out a low chuckle, though there was no malice in it. “You’ve certainly made an impression.”

The reader’s heart ached with the weight of her lies. She had never meant to deceive them, not really. She had only wanted to protect them from the terrible fates that awaited them if they followed the path history had laid out. But now, standing here in front of them, she realized how tangled things had become.

Rhaenyra moved closer, her expression softening as she placed a hand on the reader’s arm. “I understand,” she said quietly. “But if we are to trust you, there can be no more secrets between us.”

The reader nodded, meeting her gaze. “No more secrets.”

Daemon, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, finally pushed off the table and moved to stand beside Rhaenyra. “You’ve earned our trust,” he said, his voice low. “But make no mistake—we will be watching you closely.”

The reader felt a shiver run down her spine at the weight of his words. She had gained their trust, but it was fragile, precarious. One misstep, and it could all come crumbling down.

Rhaenyra’s hand lingered on her arm for a moment longer before she stepped back, her gaze still intent. “You will stay by my side,” she said firmly. “I want to know more about these dreams of yours.”

“And I,” Daemon added, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. “We will unravel your mystery, one way or another.”

The reader nodded, knowing that the path ahead was fraught with danger. But for now, she had bought herself time. Time to figure out what to do next. Time to find a way to prevent the future from unraveling before her very eyes.

As she left the room with them, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of their trust—and the danger that came with it—pressing down on her like a cloak of iron. There was no turning back now.

SORRY! Plus announcement!!!

Well, first of all, I just want to apologize for not posting and updating my House of the Dragon series!!! I have just been really busy and just not had the time so that is why I have decided to post TWO chapters for ya'll! I hope you guys enjoy it! The next thing I have to say is that right when "Whispers Through Time" is finished (10 chapters only!!) I WILL be starting the next series trying to go based off of that request for my Edmund Pevensie one-shot since they have now requested to make it a series so I really hope you guys end up enjoying that as well! That's all! "Whispers Through Time" is almost finished so I hope you guys enjoy the last few chapters that I have made! Thanks! Have a good day/night!!!!

Whispers Through Time: {~A New Arrival~}

Summary: After being mysteriously transported into the world of House of the Dragon, a modern-day woman poses as a seer to gain entry into the Targaryen court. Armed with knowledge of the future, she secretly warns Rhaenyra and Daemon of looming dangers while hiding her true identity. As she grows closer to both, romantic tension builds, but so do the risks of her deception. With Daemon's suspicions rising and Rhaenyra’s trust deepening, the reader must navigate her lies while trying to alter their tragic fate—before everything unravels.

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1293

Chapter 1 --- Chapter 2

The biting chill of the wind gnawed at your skin as you stumbled through an unfamiliar landscape, its vastness stretching out before you. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when the world around you had shifted, but the change was undeniable. Your memory still clung to the familiar buzz of the modern world—the sound of car engines, the hum of streetlights, and the constant tap of your shoes on concrete. But now, all that was gone, replaced by a stark silence that only heightened your disorientation. The horizon before you seemed endless, filled with tall hills covered in thick mist, and in the distance, a looming structure—a castle—stood proudly, its towers piercing the dreary sky.

This couldn’t be real. It felt too surreal, like a dream pulled from the pages of some historical fantasy novel. You had always been fascinated by the medieval period and Westeros in particular, but that fascination never prepared you for this. And yet, everything felt too vivid to be a dream—the sharpness of the cold, the heavy scent of damp earth, the distant call of gulls swooping down from the cliffs nearby.

Your breath caught in your throat, and a familiar panic began to rise. You could almost feel your heart pounding, each beat growing louder in your ears. Logic screamed that this couldn’t be happening. You were walking home after a long day, when—there! That light. The blinding flash that enveloped you and carried you here. You clenched your hands into fists, grounding yourself, and let the question form properly: Where am I?

Slowly, as you took in your surroundings, the faintest flicker of recognition sparked. That castle, those towers—it looked eerily familiar. The realization hit you hard, and your knees weakened. This was not just any castle, but one you had seen countless times in books, on screens. Westeros. You had somehow, impossibly, been transported to the world of the Targaryens, Velaryons, and the Seven Kingdoms.

"Gods…" you whispered, though you weren’t sure if you were calling to them or cursing them. How could this be possible?

Panic began to bubble up in your chest, but you bit it down. Now wasn’t the time to lose your head. Whatever force had brought you here, it clearly didn’t care about your confusion. You were stranded in a world you had no right to be in, with no clear path home. But you were nothing if not resourceful, and survival instinct kicked in fast. First things first: you needed a cover story.

You looked down at your clothing—your jacket, jeans, and shoes entirely inappropriate for this world. You’d stick out like a sore thumb if you didn’t do something, and quickly. And then, as if fate wanted to test you immediately, you noticed a figure making their way toward you—a villager, maybe, wrapped in furs, their weathered face twisted in confusion at the sight of you.

Without hesitation, you pulled the hood of your jacket up, hiding as much of your appearance as possible, and let an idea form. You needed to be someone important, someone with a skill that would grant you entry into the castle ahead. You thought of the people in this world—superstitious, often lacking in medical knowledge, and prone to reverence for those who claimed to possess sight beyond the ordinary.

A midwife. A seer.

That was the way in. You straightened up, quickly rehearsing a story in your head. You could remember enough of the history of this time—enough about the impending conflicts and players involved—to convince someone of your abilities. And if you could do that, you might just survive.

The villager had reached you by now, his eyes flicking over your strange attire, suspicion evident in his gaze.

"You… you lost, stranger?" His accent was thick, the words harsh against the wind. He looked you up and down, frowning deeper as he noticed your modern shoes.

Clearing your throat, you adopted the air of someone who belonged here, someone important. "I’ve come from far away," you began, your voice steady, "I am a midwife, and a gifted seer. I’ve been summoned—by fate itself—to serve the realm."

His eyes narrowed. "A seer, eh? And who exactly called ye?"

You squared your shoulders. "Not who. What." You let the pause linger, allowing the weight of your words to sink in. "There are things at play in this world that go beyond your understanding. I see them—glimpses of what’s to come. And I’ve come to ensure the safety of those in power, to warn them of the dangers that await if they do not heed my counsel."

The villager hesitated, doubt still clouding his expression, but he seemed unsure now, weighing your words. Superstition held great power in this world, and the idea of turning away someone who claimed to have foresight was a dangerous gamble. Finally, with a curt nod, he motioned to the road leading toward the castle. "You’ll want to speak to the men at the gates, then. They'll decide if yer needed."

You gave a small nod in return, keeping your expression controlled, though relief washed over you. You began to walk, your thoughts racing. You had taken the first step, but getting into the castle was just the beginning. Once there, you would need to convince people far more powerful and skeptical than a simple villager. Rhaenyra, Daemon, the Velaryons… the very people who would shape the future of Westeros.

As you approached the castle’s towering gates, the sheer size of the fortress became overwhelming. The walls stretched upward, casting long shadows over the ground. Your breath quickened as the guards came into view—men clad in armor, their hands resting on swords as they watched you approach. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

One of the guards stepped forward, his face stern beneath his helmet. "State your business," he demanded, his voice rough and authoritative.

"I am a midwife," you repeated, keeping your voice steady. "A seer. I have been sent here to serve the realm, to offer counsel to those in power." You met his gaze directly, hoping to convey confidence. "I see things—glimpses of what’s to come. And I know that there are dangers on the horizon. I must speak with those who rule, for their own safety."

The guard raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "A seer, eh? You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word at face value. We get all kinds at these gates."

You expected resistance, and you had your response ready. "I understand your doubt, but let me offer you this—" You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. "There will be an attempt on the life of someone in power here soon. It will come from within, not without. If I am wrong, you may throw me to the wolves. But if I am right, you will have failed in your duty to protect this castle."

The guard’s expression faltered for just a moment, a flicker of uncertainty passing across his features. He glanced at his fellow guards, then back at you. Finally, with a curt nod, he stepped aside. "I’ll let the master-at-arms know. If you’re lucky, you’ll get your audience."

You stepped through the gates, your pulse quickening. Inside, the castle was a maze of stone corridors, each more imposing than the last. Servants moved quickly through the halls, and you kept your head down, trying to appear as if you belonged.

Your mind raced with the enormity of what lay ahead. You needed to get close to the right people—people who would believe your story. And the first name that came to mind was Rhaenyra Targaryen. The heir to the Iron Throne, a woman of strength and ambition. If you could win her trust, you’d have a chance.

Hi.

I don't know if you are still accepting requests. But can you write that Chris from Charmed is dating y/n but doesn't know that Chris has magic?

If you don't like the idea, you can delete

A/N: Omg of course! You are my first-ever request! I had not been making any posts because I wasn't motivated, but since you requested it I will do it!! I hope you enjoy it!

{~Secrets in the Halliwell Manor~}

Summary: Chris Halliwell has been keeping a life-altering secret from Y/N—he’s a witch from a powerful magical family. When he finally reveals the truth, Y/N is thrust into a world of magic, demons, and danger. Y/N must decide whether to embrace this extraordinary reality or walk away. Can their love withstand the truth, or will the secrets Chris has kept tear them apart?

Characters: Chris, Piper, Leo, Phoebe

Pairing: Chris Halliwell x GN!Y/N

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 1537

Chris Halliwell walked hand in hand with Y/N down the bustling streets of San Francisco. The early evening sun cast long shadows, and the air was filled with the sounds of distant chatter, car engines, and the occasional chirping of birds. He had been seeing Y/N for a few months now, and things had been going well—too well, perhaps. But with every date, every sweet moment, the weight of the secret he carried grew heavier on his shoulders.

“Chris, you’ve been a little quiet today,” Y/N said, glancing up at him with concern in their eyes. “Everything okay?”

Chris forced a smile, squeezing Y/N's hand a little tighter. “Yeah, just… thinking.”

“About?” Y/N prompted, not missing the flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

“Oh, you know, life, the future… where we're headed,” Chris replied, hoping the vague response would be enough. The truth was, he was always thinking about the future—literally. As a Whitelighter-witch hybrid, Chris had traveled from the future to prevent a dark fate from befalling his family. But none of that could be shared with Y/N, at least not yet.

“You’re not getting cold feet, are you?” Y/N teased, nudging him playfully with their shoulder.

Chris chuckled softly. “No, not at all. Just trying to figure out how to balance everything, you know?”

“Life can be complicated,” Y/N agreed. “But you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Chris stopped walking and turned to face Y/N, taking both of their hands in his. The sincerity in Y/N’s gaze made his heart ache with the desire to come clean. But how could he? How could he explain that he was a witch, that his family was one of the most powerful magical families in existence, and that he had traveled through time to save the world?

“I know,” he finally said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on Y/N’s forehead. “I’m lucky to have you.”

Y/N smiled, standing on their tiptoes to kiss him properly. “You’re right, you are lucky,” they teased, their smile lighting up their face.

Chris laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Let’s head back to the Manor. There’s something I want to show you.”

______________________________________________________________

The Halliwell Manor was as imposing as ever, with its Victorian architecture and an aura of mystery that seemed to cling to its walls. Y/N had been there a few times, but the house still held an enigmatic charm that they couldn’t quite place.

“Piper, Leo, I’m home!” Chris called as he opened the front door, leading Y/N inside.

Y/N looked around, admiring the intricate details of the house. “This place is incredible. It always feels like there’s some kind of history here.”

Chris smiled. “There’s a lot of history in this house, that’s for sure.”

Before Y/N could ask what he meant, Piper Halliwell, Chris's mother, appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She smiled warmly when she saw Y/N. “Oh, hi, Y/N! It’s so good to see you again. How have you been?”

“Hi, Piper! I’ve been good, thank you. How about you?”

“Busy, as usual,” Piper replied with a wink. “But that’s life. Are you staying for dinner?”

Chris quickly cut in before Y/N could respond. “We might have to skip dinner tonight, Mom. I wanted to show Y/N something upstairs.”

Piper raised an eyebrow, her motherly intuition telling her something was up. “Alright, but don’t take too long. You know how I feel about skipping meals.”

Chris nodded, pulling Y/N towards the stairs. “We won’t. I promise.”

As they made their way to the attic, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and curiosity. Chris had mentioned the attic before, but he had always been vague about what was up there. Now, as they climbed the stairs, Y/N felt a sense of anticipation building.

When they reached the attic door, Chris paused, looking at Y/N with a serious expression. “There’s something I need to tell you before we go in.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Okay…”

Chris took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. “This might sound crazy, but you have to trust me, alright?”

Y/N nodded, their concern deepening. “Chris, you’re scaring me. What is it?”

“I’m not who you think I am,” Chris said slowly. “There’s a lot about my life that you don’t know… things I haven’t told you because I didn’t know how.”

Y/N’s mind raced, trying to piece together what he was saying. “What do you mean?”

Chris turned to the door, hesitating for just a moment before pushing it open. The attic was dimly lit, with shafts of light filtering through the windows, illuminating the dust particles in the air. In the center of the room was an old, ornate book resting on a wooden stand.

“What is this place?” Y/N asked, stepping inside, their voice barely above a whisper.

“This is where my family keeps the Book of Shadows,” Chris explained, moving towards the book. “It’s a magical tome that has been passed down through generations. It contains spells, potions, and information about demons and other supernatural beings.”

Y/N stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. “Magic…? Chris, what are you talking about?”

Chris met Y/N’s eyes, his expression earnest. “I’m a witch, Y/N. My whole family is. We protect the world from evil forces that most people don’t even know exist.”

For a moment, Y/N couldn’t speak. It was as if the world had tilted on its axis, and nothing made sense anymore. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” they finally managed to say.

Chris nodded. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But I wanted you to know the truth because… I care about you. And I can’t keep this from you anymore.”

Y/N took a step back, trying to process everything. “This is… I don’t know what to say, Chris. This is insane.”

“I know,” Chris said softly. “But it’s the truth.”

Before Y/N could respond, the door to the attic burst open, and in rushed Phoebe Halliwell, Chris’s aunt, with a worried expression on her face.

“Chris, we’ve got a problem,” Phoebe said, her eyes flickering to Y/N for a brief moment before focusing on her nephew.

“What is it?” Chris asked, immediately on alert.

“There’s a demon in the city. It’s causing havoc, and we need to deal with it before things get worse.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “A demon? Like, an actual demon?”

Phoebe glanced at Y/N, offering a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, sorry about this. Welcome to the family, I guess?”

Y/N felt like they were in a dream—a bizarre, surreal dream. “Chris, what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain everything later, I promise,” Chris said, turning back to Phoebe. “Where’s Wyatt?”

“He’s on his way,” Phoebe replied, just as a swirl of blue orbs materialized in the room, revealing Chris’s older brother, Wyatt.

Wyatt gave Y/N a quick nod. “Hey, Y/N. Sorry you had to find out this way.”

Y/N could only nod in response, their mind reeling.

“Let’s get this over with,” Chris said, determination settling in his eyes. He turned to Y/N, his voice gentle. “Stay here, okay? We’ll be back soon.”

Y/N grabbed his arm, their voice trembling. “Chris, be careful.”

Chris squeezed their hand, giving them a reassuring smile. “I will. Trust me.”

With that, the three witches left the attic, leaving Y/N alone with the Book of Shadows and a whirlwind of emotions.

______________________________________________________________

Y/N paced the attic, their mind racing. Magic? Witches? Demons? It was too much to comprehend. But the more they thought about it, the more things started to make sense. The strange occurrences, the odd things Chris had said or done—it all fit together now.

After what felt like an eternity, the door to the attic creaked open, and Chris stepped inside, looking slightly disheveled but unharmed.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked, rushing over to him.

Chris nodded, pulling Y/N into a tight embrace. “I’m fine. The demon’s gone. It’s over.”

Y/N clung to him, feeling a rush of relief. “I can’t believe any of this is real.”

Chris pulled back slightly, looking into Y/N’s eyes. “I know it’s a lot to take in. And if you need time to process everything, I understand.”

Y/N shook their head. “I don’t need time. I just need you to promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” Chris said immediately.

“Don’t keep secrets from me anymore,” Y/N said, their voice firm. “If we’re going to be together, I need to know everything.”

Chris smiled, relief flooding through him. “I promise. No more secrets.”

Y/N smiled back, feeling a sense of peace settle over them. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Chris leaned down, capturing Y/N’s lips in a tender kiss. For the first time in a long while, he felt like everything was going to be okay.

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Y/N knew that no matter what.

Shadows and Starlight: {~ The Fragile Truce Word ~}

Summary: Amid the chaos of war, a bitter rivalry between Edmund Pevensie and a formidable enemy leader begins to unravel into something deeper. As a fragile truce forms, both are torn between duty to their people and the undeniable connection growing between them. With political tensions rising, jealousies flaring, and the threat of battle looming, Edmund and the reader must navigate a delicate balance of loyalty, love, and sacrifice to secure peace—and each other

Characters: Edmund Pevensie

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Slight fluff

Word Count: 1697

Taglist: @snowtargaryen @hippiedippiekitty

Chapter 2 —

The camp was quiet, save for the low murmur of soldiers gathered around fires, their faces lit by the flickering glow. The war had taken its toll on everyone—physically and mentally—and tonight, even the most hardened fighters seemed subdued. The ceasefire had been called, but there was a tension in the air that was impossible to ignore. Everyone knew this truce was temporary. Fragile. And yet, as you stood at the edge of your camp, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something far more dangerous than battle lay ahead.

The source of your unease stood just beyond the perimeter, his presence unmistakable. Edmund Pevensie had come to your camp under the pretense of negotiations—discussing terms, strategies, anything to maintain the fragile peace that had been brokered after your last encounter. But you knew better. Edmund wasn’t here for political reasons. He was here because, like you, he couldn’t let go of whatever was growing between you, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

You watched as he dismounted from his horse, his movements fluid and purposeful, his face unreadable. The tension between you had shifted since that fateful day on the battlefield, when he had offered you his hand instead of striking you down. It was as if the very nature of your rivalry had changed, morphing into something neither of you could fully understand or control.

“Edmund,” you greeted him, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your chest. You tried to keep your tone neutral, but there was no denying the undercurrent of something deeper.

He inclined his head slightly, acknowledging your greeting as his eyes met yours. For a brief moment, it was just the two of you, standing on opposite sides of a fragile line that neither dared to cross, yet both seemed drawn toward. But then, the moment passed, and Edmund’s expression hardened.

“I’m here to discuss the terms of the truce,” he said, his voice formal, though you could hear the strain beneath it. “We need to ensure this ceasefire holds.”

You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you toward the central tent where the negotiations would take place. The camp buzzed with quiet energy as you led him through the rows of soldiers and tents, but no one dared approach. Your people regarded Edmund with wary eyes, their distrust of the Narnians evident in the way they tensed at his presence.

Once inside the tent, the two of you stood opposite each other, the low light casting long shadows on the canvas walls. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence thick with unspoken words.

“So,” Edmund began, his tone clipped as he tried to steer the conversation back to politics, “your side has been pushing for control of the northern borders. We can’t allow that to happen.”

You folded your arms across your chest, feigning indifference even as your heart pounded in your ears. “And what would you suggest, Pevensie? We give up territory in exchange for your goodwill?”

His jaw clenched, his irritation evident, though he was doing his best to keep his emotions in check. “You know as well as I do that this isn’t about goodwill. It’s about survival.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. This was supposed to be a negotiation—a purely diplomatic meeting to maintain peace—but it felt like something far more personal. Every word exchanged was a battle in its own right, each of you testing the other’s resolve.

Before you could respond, the tent flap opened, and a tall figure entered—one of your most trusted advisors, a man who had been at your side since the beginning of the war. He was charming, sharp-witted, and far too friendly for Edmund’s liking. You could see the change in Edmund’s posture immediately, the way his shoulders stiffened as your advisor greeted you with a warm smile.

“My apologies for the interruption,” your advisor said smoothly, his eyes flicking to Edmund with only the briefest hint of disdain before returning to you. “I wanted to ensure everything was in order for the negotiations.”

You offered him a polite smile, nodding in acknowledgment. “Of course. We were just discussing the terms of the truce.”

As you spoke, your advisor stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder in what might have been a gesture of support—but to Edmund, it was something far more irritating. His eyes darkened as he watched the interaction, his jaw clenching so hard you thought you heard his teeth grind.

Edmund’s voice was cold when he finally spoke. “I assume you’ve been kept informed of the negotiations thus far,” he said, addressing your advisor with a pointed glare. “It would be a shame for any misunderstandings to arise at this stage.”

The tension in the tent thickened as the two men locked eyes, neither willing to back down. You could feel the heat of Edmund’s jealousy simmering just beneath the surface, though he did his best to mask it behind a veneer of professionalism. Still, you knew him well enough to recognize the signs—the slight tightening of his grip on his sword hilt, the way his gaze never quite left your advisor.

Before things could escalate, you cleared your throat, stepping between them to defuse the situation. “Perhaps we should focus on the matter at hand,” you suggested, your voice firm but calm. “We’re here to discuss peace, after all.”

Your advisor nodded, though you could sense the underlying tension in his posture. “Of course,” he agreed, his tone smooth. “We all want what’s best for our people.”

Edmund didn’t respond, but you could feel his eyes on you as you resumed the discussion, the charged silence between you more telling than any words he could have said. As the negotiations continued, you couldn’t help but notice the way Edmund’s mood darkened whenever your advisor spoke, his irritation growing with each passing moment. It was as if the very idea of someone else standing at your side, advising you, grated on him in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

By the time the meeting was over, the atmosphere in the tent had grown stifling. Your advisor left with a respectful nod, but the moment he was gone, you turned to face Edmund, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, your voice quieter now that you were alone with him.

Edmund’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, you thought he might deflect your question. But then, with a frustrated sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his expression softening just a fraction. “I don’t trust him,” he admitted, his voice low. “He’s too... familiar with you.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his bluntness. “And why does that bother you?”

For a moment, Edmund seemed at a loss for words. His gaze met yours, and you saw the conflict there—the battle between his duty as a leader and the emotions he was struggling to keep in check. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more vulnerable than you had ever heard it.

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt,” he confessed, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “And I don’t trust that he has your best interests at heart.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the raw honesty in his voice. This was not the Edmund you had fought against for so long—the hardened, calculating king who never let his guard down. This was something else, something far more dangerous. Because it wasn’t just concern in his eyes—it was something deeper, something that neither of you had acknowledged but both of you felt.

For a long moment, the two of you stood there in the dimly lit tent, the weight of his confession hanging heavily between you. It would have been so easy to push him away, to retreat behind the walls you had built around yourself. But something in the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the world that mattered—made it impossible.

“I can take care of myself,” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “But thank you... for worrying.”

Edmund’s gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours as if he was looking for something he couldn’t quite name. The tension between you was almost unbearable now, the air thick with the unspoken connection that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, Edmund stepped back, his expression once again guarded. “We should continue this discussion later,” he said, his voice a little too formal, as if he was trying to regain control of himself.

You nodded, though you couldn’t help but feel the loss of the moment that had just slipped away. “Later,” you agreed, your heart still racing as you watched him leave the tent, disappearing into the night.

The campfire crackled softly as you sat with your soldiers later that evening, the warmth from the flames doing little to chase away the cold that had settled in your chest. You couldn’t stop thinking about Edmund—about the way he had looked at you, the way his words had lingered in the air between you like a question neither of you were ready to answer.

Your people, however, were less conflicted. They had seen Edmund in your camp, had watched the way the two of you interacted, and now, whispers of doubt and suspicion were beginning to spread.

“You’ve changed since the truce began,” one of your most trusted soldiers said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of accusation. “People are starting to wonder if your loyalties are still with us.”

You stiffened, caught off guard by the bluntness of his words. “My loyalties have never wavered,” you replied firmly,

though even you could hear the hesitation in your voice. “I’m doing what I must for our people.”

The soldier’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression skeptical. “Just be careful. The Pevensies are not to be trusted. They have a way of getting inside your head... making you question things.”

You didn’t respond, but his words hit closer to the truth than you were willing to admit.

Eternal Harmony: {~Forever Bound~}

Summary: Y/N's ordinary life takes a supernatural twist when they encounter the mysterious Cullen family in Forks. Immersed in a world of eternal love and trials, Y/N becomes a vital part of the Cullens' immortal story. Guided by Alice's visions and Jasper's wisdom, they face cosmic threats and navigate the complexities of supernatural existence. The story unfolds through eclipses of emotions and trials, culminating in a dawn where enduring bonds and love echo through the ages—a forever-bound journey in the supernatural realm.

Characters: The Cullen family

Pairing: Jasper x Reader x Alice

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 536

Epilogue

The meadow, once a silent witness to the trials and tribulations of the Cullen family, now stood in the soft glow of the dawn. The night had unfolded like a celestial tapestry, weaving together moments of challenge, triumph, and unwavering unity. Y/N, having navigated the unpredictable currents of the supernatural realm, found themselves standing on the threshold of a new era.

Alice, her eyes holding the wisdom of ages, turned to Y/N with a serene smile. "The trials have sculpted our destinies, and the bonds forged in the crucible of challenges are unbreakable. This is a moment of renewal, a dawn that heralds a new chapter."

Jasper, the empathetic one, added, "We faced the trials together, and in doing so, we discovered the strength that lies within our unity. The supernatural world may be complex, but our love and resilience defy its intricacies."

As the first rays of sunlight bathed the meadow, the Cullens gathered—Edward and Bella, Emmett and Rosalie, Carlisle and Esme, Alice and Jasper—each member carrying the weight of centuries with grace and resilience. The howls of distant wolves echoed through the forest, a reminder of the intertwined destinies that transcended both time and mortality.

Y/N, embraced by the immortal family, felt a sense of belonging that surpassed the constraints of human understanding. Alice, ever attuned to the cosmic currents, turned to Y/N. "You've become an integral part of our story, Y/N. Your presence has added a unique hue to the canvas of our immortal existence."

Edward, the guardian of secrets, spoke with a warmth that hinted at the eons of experience. "In the embrace of eternity, we find not just love but a shared journey that defies the limitations of mortal narratives."

Emmett, with his infectious enthusiasm, threw an arm around Y/N. "Welcome to the forever club! It's a wild ride, but with this family, you'll never be alone."

Rosalie, her demeanor softened by the dawn's light, offered a rare smile. "Trials may have tested us, but they've also shaped us. We endure, and in that endurance, we find the true essence of our immortal existence."

As the Cullens stood united in the meadow, the sun rose higher, casting a golden glow on the landscape. The howls of wolves blended with the rustle of leaves, creating a symphony that echoed through the ages.

In the quietude of the Pacific Northwest, Y/N and the Cullens stood hand in hand, their silhouettes painted against the canvas of the dawn. The meadow, witness to the trials and triumphs of the immortal family, seemed to breathe with the eternal rhythm of their existence.

Alice, her eyes reflecting the promise of forever, whispered, "This is not just an ending, Y/N. It's a beginning—a forever bound journey where love, resilience, and the mysteries of the supernatural realm intertwine in a symphony that echoes through eternity."

As the meadow embraced the warmth of the morning sun, the Cullens faced the horizon, ready to embark on a new chapter of their immortal saga. Little did they know that the tapestry of their existence, woven with threads of love and enduring bonds, would continue to unfold in the cosmic dance of forever-bound destinies.

Ethereal Bonds: {~A Rift in Reality~}

Summary: Y/N is transported into the show's world, joining forces with the Winchesters to face a cosmic threat. Together, they navigate interdimensional challenges, decipher prophecies, and confront an entity aiming to merge realities. The fanfic explores the blurring of fiction and reality, emphasizing the enduring bonds formed amidst the supernatural chaos.

Characters: Sam & Dean

Pairing: No Pairing

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 426

Masterlist

The pitter-patter of rain against the window formed a soothing backdrop as Y/N nestled comfortably on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in hand, and Supernatural episodes playing one after another. The flickering light from the television cast dancing shadows across the room, creating an atmosphere of cozy familiarity.

Just as Dean Winchester was about to unleash one of his classic one-liners, a sudden flash of blinding light enveloped Y/N. It was as if the room itself rebelled against the laws of physics, and when the radiance finally subsided, Y/N found themselves standing on a desolate road surrounded by dense woods. The familiar hum of the Impala's engine caught their attention.

Blinking in disbelief, Y/N turned to see the iconic 1967 Chevy Impala, and before they could make sense of the situation, the car's doors creaked open, and the Winchester brothers emerged, guns drawn.

"Who the hell are you, and how did you just appear outta nowhere?" Dean demanded, his eyes narrowing.

Y/N stammered, "I-I'm just a fan! I was watching Supernatural, and now I'm here. This has to be some kind of dream, right?"

Sam exchanged a perplexed glance with Dean, who replied, "Dream or not, you better start talking before we decide to exorcize you."

With a nervous chuckle, Y/N tried to explain, "No, seriously! I was just watching you guys on TV, and then poof, I'm here. I don't even know how!"

"Supernatural? Is that some kind of voodoo?" Sam raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident.

"No voodoo, no spells. Just a binge-watching session gone terribly wrong," Y/N replied, still trying to wrap their head around the surreal situation.

Dean lowered his gun but kept a wary eye on Y/N. "Okay, let's assume you're not some demon or shapeshifter. Why the hell are you here?"

Y/N's eyes widened with realization, "I think I've been transported into the world of Supernatural. Like, for real."

The Winchesters exchanged incredulous glances before Dean let out a short laugh, "This has got to be the weirdest thing we've ever encountered."

As the reality of the situation settled in, Sam sighed, "Well, if you're telling the truth, we might as well figure this out together. But no funny business."

With an uneasy truce, Y/N joined the Winchesters in the Impala, the rain tapping against the roof as they embarked on an unexpected journey into the unknown. Little did they know, the lines between fiction and reality were about to blur in ways that would defy even the supernatural.

Eternal Harmony: {~Melody of Souls~}

Summary: Y/N's ordinary life takes a supernatural twist when they encounter the mysterious Cullen family in Forks. Immersed in a world of eternal love and trials, Y/N becomes a vital part of the Cullens' immortal story. Guided by Alice's visions and Jasper's wisdom, they face cosmic threats and navigate the complexities of supernatural existence. The story unfolds through eclipses of emotions and trials, culminating in a dawn where enduring bonds and love echo through the ages—a forever-bound journey in the supernatural realm.

Characters: The Cullen family

Pairing: Jasper x Reader x Alice

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 624

Chapter 2 --- Chapter 3

The dense forest surrounding Forks seemed to come alive as Alice, Jasper, and Y/N ventured deeper into its depths. The towering trees, shrouded in mist, arched overhead, creating a natural cathedral that resonated with a profound sense of ancient wisdom. The forest floor, adorned with ferns and moss, cradled their steps in a carpet of nature's embrace.

Alice, her every movement a dance with the unseen, turned to Y/N. "Our family is not what it seems, and the secrets of our existence are written in the language of the forest."

Jasper, walking with a quiet confidence, added, "We've lived through centuries, seen civilizations rise and fall. The forest harbors the echoes of our immortal journey."

As they meandered through the verdant sanctuary, Alice occasionally paused to pick a wildflower or share a snippet of the future she glimpsed. The air was thick with the earthy scent of pine, and the distant murmur of a hidden stream added a melodic undertone to the symphony of nature that surrounded them.

Y/N, caught in the enchantment of their surroundings, couldn't help but feel a growing sense of curiosity. "What are you trying to show me?" they asked, their voice a mere whisper in the vastness of the ancient woods.

Alice turned to Y/N, her golden eyes reflecting the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. "A place where we can truly be ourselves. A place away from prying eyes."

Soon, the trio reached a secluded meadow bathed in the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the trees. It was a place untouched by the passage of time, a sanctuary hidden from the curious gazes of the mortal world. As they settled into the natural tranquility, Edward and Bella emerged from the shadows, their presence adding another layer to the unfolding tale.

Edward, with his tousled bronze hair and a gaze that seemed to pierce through the veil of reality, greeted Y/N with a nod. "Welcome to our secret haven."

Bella, her warmth a contrast to Edward's intensity, added, "You're in for quite a journey, Y/N. The Cullen family has its fair share of surprises."

As they sat in the meadow, the Cullens began to share snippets of their immortal lives. Carlisle, with his sage-like wisdom, and Esme, the epitome of maternal grace, joined the group, each member contributing to the mosaic of stories that made up their shared history.

Emmett, with his infectious enthusiasm, regaled Y/N with tales of epic encounters with formidable foes. "You've got a front-row seat to the best supernatural show in town," he boomed, flashing a grin that could rival the sun.

Rosalie, elegant and enigmatic, offered Y/N a nod of acknowledgment. "You've entered a world of legends, dear. Choose your path wisely."

As the afternoon unfolded, Y/N found themselves immersed in the vibrant tapestry of the Cullen family. Laughter, shared memories, and the unspoken bonds of kinship filled the air. Amidst the tales of their supernatural existence, Y/N sensed a palpable harmony, a melody of souls that resonated within the heart of this extraordinary family.

Alice, ever attuned to the nuances of the future, turned to Y/N. "You're a part of this now, Y/N. Embrace the melody, for your presence has added a unique note to our eternal composition."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the meadow, the Cullen family stood together. In the quietude of the twilight, Y/N felt a sense of belonging that transcended the boundaries of mortality. Little did they know that the journey had only just begun, and the melody of their intertwined destinies would echo through the ages, creating a symphony of immortal love and timeless connections.

If you do Narnia fics, can you do one about Edmund Pevensie with !enemy reader? Ty <3

A/N: I just want to say thank you so much for the request! You are my second one and I really hope you enjoy this. This is a oneshot fanfic but if you want me to do a series for this prompt, I will do it just for you!

{~Between Shadows and Steel~}

Summary: In the midst of a fierce battle, you confront your sworn enemy, Edmund Pevensie, determined to end the war between your people and Narnia. But as your swords clash, Edmund’s unexpected words and actions challenge everything you thought you knew about him—and yourself. With the chaos of war surrounding you, a moment of vulnerability leads to an undeniable connection, forcing you to question whether you’re truly enemies or something more.

Characters: Edmund Pevensie

Pairing: Edmund x GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1178

The battlefield stretched out before you like an endless ocean of chaos. Warriors clashed with brutal force, their weapons ringing in the air, the ground beneath them soaked in the blood of the fallen. The cries of the wounded mingled with the roar of battle, and somewhere in the distance, you could hear the chilling shriek of a centaur as it fell to a barrage of arrows.

You stood on the edge of the fray, your chest heaving, sword in hand, watching as the skirmish raged on. In the midst of the melee, a single figure caught your eye. He moved like the wind—swift, agile, and utterly determined.

Edmund Pevensie.

The Just King of Narnia. And your enemy.

To you, he represented everything you’d fought against for years. Narnia’s expansion had forced your people into a corner, and you had sworn to resist. To fight until there was nothing left. But as you watched him now, cutting through your soldiers with practiced precision, doubt flickered in the depths of your mind.

You hated him—or so you told yourself. Yet, every time you crossed paths with Edmund, it felt as though there was something more beneath the surface. Something that made your heart pound in ways you couldn’t explain.

You gripped your sword tightly, the leather of the hilt biting into your palm as you steeled yourself. Today, you would confront him. Today, you would end this, one way or another.

With a deep breath, you charged toward him, weaving through the chaos, your eyes fixed on his form. Your footsteps were light but swift, your sword slicing through any obstacle in your path. The moment you reached him, you swung your blade, aiming for his unguarded back.

But Edmund moved faster than you anticipated. As if sensing your presence, he spun around, his sword meeting yours with a resounding clang. Your eyes locked, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.

“You again,” he muttered, his voice strained with exertion, but not without a hint of recognition.

“Don’t act so surprised,” you shot back, pushing against his blade with all your strength.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with something that was neither fear nor anger, but something you couldn’t quite place. “I’m not. I just didn’t expect it to be this soon.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then you should’ve been ready for me.”

The two of you danced across the battlefield, swords clashing with each strike, the sound echoing in the din of war. He was a skilled fighter, and you found yourself struggling to keep up with his speed. But you refused to back down. You had trained for this moment—prepared yourself for the inevitable confrontation.

Yet, as you fought, there was something different about this battle. Each time your swords connected, there was a spark in the air—an electricity you couldn’t ignore. Every time you stepped closer to him, it felt like the world was closing in, leaving only the two of you in its wake.

“You don’t have to do this,” Edmund said suddenly, his voice low, as if he could speak to you alone amidst the chaos.

You growled, frustration building in your chest. “And you don’t have to keep pretending you care!”

He blocked your next strike with ease, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “What makes you think I’m pretending?”

That stopped you for a moment. Your sword hovered in the air as you stared at him, the words catching you off guard. His expression softened slightly, and you noticed that he wasn’t attacking as aggressively as he could have. In fact, it seemed as though he was holding back.

“You don’t know me,” you snapped, stepping back to regain your composure.

He sheathed his sword, making you pause. “I know enough.”

Before you could retort, a nearby explosion rocked the ground, sending dust and debris into the air. The shockwave threw you both backward, and you hit the ground with a grunt. For a moment, your vision blurred, the chaos around you fading to a dull roar.

When the dust settled, you found yourself staring up at the sky, dazed. But then, a shadow fell over you, and you blinked up to see Edmund standing above you, his hand outstretched.

“Let me help you,” he said, his voice steady despite the battle still raging around you.

You glared at him, but the strength in your arms had fled. Reluctantly, you took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. His grip was firm, and for a moment, neither of you moved, your hands lingering together a little too long.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, breathless. Your heart pounded, but it wasn’t just from the exertion of battle.

Edmund’s expression softened. “Because I don’t want to see you hurt.”

The words hit you harder than any sword could. You stared at him, confused and conflicted. “We’re enemies,” you whispered. “You’re supposed to want to see me fall.”

His hand remained on yours, warm and steady, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. “Maybe we don’t have to be enemies anymore,” he said softly. “We’ve fought for so long, but what if there’s another way?”

You wanted to argue, to push him away, but his words—his gaze—cut through your defenses. There was a sincerity in his eyes, a raw honesty that you hadn’t been prepared for. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you let yourself wonder if he was right.

Edmund stepped closer, his voice barely a whisper now. “You don’t have to fight this war alone. You don’t have to carry this burden anymore.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as he inched nearer. The battlefield, the chaos around you—all of it seemed to fade away. There was only him. And for the first time, you realized how much you had been fighting against yourself, not just him.

“Why do you care?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He hesitated for a moment, his hand brushing against your cheek. The touch sent a shiver down your spine. “Because… I think I’ve been fighting against myself too,” he admitted. “I’ve hated this war as much as you do.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit, but there was none. Just vulnerability. A rawness you hadn’t expected to see in him.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, your breath mingling with his. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and for a heartbeat, the world stood still. Then, slowly, cautiously, he closed the distance between you.

His lips met yours in a tentative kiss, soft and warm, like a promise. Your heart raced, and for a moment, you forgot everything—the war, the pain, the years of hatred. All that mattered was this. Him.

When you finally pulled back, your breath was shallow, and his eyes were filled with a mix of relief and something deeper. “We don’t have to keep fighting,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

For the first time in years, you let yourself believe him.