Prompt: Noelle's struggle with magic never stemmed from a lack of talent—but from her refusal to hurt others, an idea she despised. When a single incident forces her to cross that line, the consequences are far worse than she imagined. The guilt shatters her, leaving her isolated, depressed, and withdrawn.
But when even her closest allies hesitate to intervene, a certain magicless boy refuses to let her fall. With stubborn kindness and unshakable resolve, he fights to pull her back onto her feet.
—
She hated hurting people. Always had.
Even when she was little, before her granny's death and the nightmares that followed... she never liked seeing things in pain. Not animals. Not people.
Not even her siblings, when they deserved it.
Especially not them.
Which made her entire existence as a battle mage kind of ironic.
Nozel had called it weakness.
Solid had called it shameful.
Nebra hadn't even bothered pretending she was worth looking at.
But it wasn't weakness. Not really. It was fear.
She hadn't struggled with controlling her magic because she lacked talent.
She struggled because every time she imagined launching an attack, her brain short-circuited.
She saw blood. Screaming. Limbs torn open. Magic burning through skin and organs and bone.
It made her sick.
Literally sick.
She vomited during her first training session with a target dummy. Couldn't look at it after she blasted it in half.
She couldn't even apologize to the dummy. Which made it worse somehow.
So, she locked it up. All of it. Her magic. Her fear. Her thoughts. Everything.
Until the Black Bulls.
Until Kahono.
Until she realized that power wasn't just destruction. It was protection too.
She remembered how Kahono held her hand at the Underwater Temple. Smiled at her. Told her she could do it.
That she was kind.
And that kindness could be her strength.
No one had ever said that to her before.
No one had ever meant it before.
Not like Kahono did.
And it helped. Not all at once. But enough.
Enough for Noelle to start pushing. Learning. Casting spells properly, sometimes even without a misfire.
Enough to want to get stronger, not because she had something to prove, but because she wanted to protect people.
People who deserved it.
People who cared.
Asta.
She hated how often her mind circled back to him.
He was loud and dumb and reckless. But he believed in her. Even when she didn't.
Even when she screamed at him. Or insulted him. Or made a fool of herself.
He just grinned and complimented her magic. Told her she was amazing. Beautiful. Strong.
He meant it too. That was the worst part.
She never knew how to respond. Not really.
It was easier to snap at him than to deal with the way her heart kept stuttering whenever he looked her in the eyes.
But she still remembered the way his face lit up when she saved him the first time. The Sea Dragon's Roar. The way he cheered for her.
Even now, it made her smile.
It wasn't pride exactly. Just… relief.
Like something inside her had always wanted to matter to someone. And that was the moment it finally did.
So she trained harder. Got stronger.
More battles came. More missions.
More chances to prove she could protect—not just herself, but her squad. Her friends. Innocent people.
She wasn't perfect. Not even close.
But she kept pushing.
And then the elf incident happened.
Everything went to hell.
The sky cracked. Mana boiled. Magic Knights started attacking their own comrades.
It was chaos.
And there she was. In the middle of it. Heart pounding. Mouth dry.
Her siblings were under attack.
L'etoile Becueret—possessed by a twisted elf named Kvin—had them cornered.
A Compass Mage.
Noelle hated compass magic. It was suffocating. Disorienting. Nothing made sense in it.
It was the perfect counter to her spells.
But she didn't run.
She stood her ground. Watched as the compass mage laughed, slicing through the battlefield with perfect precision.
Nozel collapsed. Solid was bleeding. Nebra couldn't even scream properly—her mouth was filled with dust and debris.
They were going to die.
And for a second, Noelle thought maybe that's fine.
But then she remembered her mother's portrait. The one in the Silva estate. How it looked like she was watching Noelle. Judging her.
And she thought about the Bulls. And about Asta. And about Kahono.
And she said no.
No more running.
No more holding back.
Something deep in her core snapped—then surged.
Water bloomed. Not like a spell, not like a barrier.
Like armor.
Like a promise.
The Valkyrie Dress.
She didn't even know what to call it at first. It just happened. Her body moved before her mind caught up.
She tore through Kvin's compass field.
Deflected everything.
Struck with precision. Grace. Purpose.
She didn't kill.
She didn't have to.
Just incapacitated.
And for once… her siblings stared at her like she was real. Like she belonged.
Nozel didn't say anything. But he looked at her with wide eyes.
Solid couldn't meet her gaze.
And Nebra muttered something—probably an insult—but it was quiet. Almost embarrassed.
It didn't matter.
Because Noelle had never felt stronger. Or prouder.
Had never felt so free. Had never felt magic was so fun.
She stood over them in that armor, breathing hard, magic crackling around her like lightning in a storm.
She wasn't a mistake.
She wasn't a shameful failure.
She wasn't a child in need of coddling.
She was a warrior.
A protector.
A Magic Knight.
And for the first time, she believed it too.
Not because anyone said it.
But because she knew it.
Because she earned it.
Because she was.
—
The Heart Kingdom was supposed to be peaceful.
Quiet rivers. Singing birds. Flowers blooming along the roads. It didn't feel like a battlefield.
But that's what it became.
The Spade Kingdom didn't announce their attack. They just came.
Noelle was deployed the second the scouts were spotted. Border town. Strategic placement. Important to protect.
I can do this, she told herself.
She had her Valkyrie Dress. She'd fought devils. She'd protected her siblings. She was strong now.
She believed that.
Mostly.
The moment she arrived, she saw the smoke. It curled into the sky like a claw.
Houses burning. Screams in the distance. People running.
And the Spade soldiers—grinning, armored, dark magic spilling from their fingertips.
They didn't hesitate. They didn't speak.
They tried to kill everyone.
Noelle didn't think.
She moved.
Water surged around her. The dress snapped into place. Her wand shimmered like ice.
And then—
Silence.
A heartbeat.
Then destruction.
She barely aimed.
Her spells ripped through the scouts like blades of pressurized water.
One tried to dodge.
Didn't make it.
Another tried to block.
Didn't matter.
Her attacks went through them. Through armor. Through limbs. Through chests.
She saw one man's face twist in shock—right before he fell backward, eyes wide, mouth open.
He didn't get back up.
None of them did.
It took less than ten seconds.
She didn't even feel tired.
When it was over, the townspeople stared at her. Wide-eyed. Grateful.
Someone clapped.
Then more.
They cheered.
A child shouted her name. Called her a hero.
And that's when it hit her.
She looked around.
Bodies.
Not burned or battered.
Split.Shredded.Dead.
The cheers faded.
Her stomach turned.
Her wand slipped from her fingers.
No.
Not like this.
Not this.
She dropped to her knees.
Her body shook.
Her heart pounded so hard she couldn't breathe.
And then she threw up.
Right there, in front of them.
The townspeople went silent.
Someone stepped forward to help her. She flinched away.
She couldn't look at them.
Couldn't look at the corpses.
Couldn't look at her hands.
I killed them.
It wasn't like fighting the elves. Or monsters. Or devils.
These weren't ancient spirits or magical constructs or beasts from hell.
They were people.
Soldiers, yes. Enemies, yes.
But still human.
She'd killed them.
Without hesitation.
Without effort.
Without meaning to.
She knelt there for what felt like hours.
A medic came. Tried to heal her. She wasn't injured.
Just… hollow.
Eventually, she stood.
Someone offered her water.
She didn't drink it.
The entire walk back to the capital, she didn't speak.
She didn't cry either.
She just kept seeing it.
The way that man looked at her right before he died.
The way her spell split him open.
The way the child called her a hero while his blood soaked into the dirt.
She wanted to scrub her hands raw.
Wanted to rip the magic out of her soul.
Wanted to vanish.
When she got back to the Heart Kingdom palace, Mimosa tried to talk to her.
Noelle said she was tired.
Secre hovered for a while. Noelle avoided her eyes.
Even Lolopechka—sweet, gentle Lolopechka—noticed something was wrong.
But Noelle smiled. Nodded. Said she just needed rest.
Then locked the door to her room and curled up on the floor.
She didn't sleep that night.
Or the night after.
Or the one after that.
Because every time she closed her eyes, she saw their faces.
And every time she tried to cast a spell—
Nothing.
Her magic didn't respond.
Or maybe she just couldn't reach it.
Because deep down, she didn't want to.
She was scared.
Not of dying.
Not of losing.
She was scared of what she'd become.
Of what she might do again.
And worst of all…
Of how easy it had been.
—
Noelle didn't leave her room for three days.
Not to eat. Not to bathe. Not even to breathe fresh air.
She just lay there. Still dressed in the same uniform. Same dirt. Same blood on her boots.
It won't come off.
She tried to clean them. Once.
The red stain didn't fade. Neither did the smell.
She gave up.
Mimosa knocked on her door the next morning.
"Noelle? Are you okay?"
Noelle said nothing.
She heard the hesitation in Mimosa's voice. The worry.
But Mimosa left anyway.
They all did.
Of course they did.
The others were training. They had to. The next war was coming fast.
Asta. Luck. Leopold. Finral. Everyone was trying to get stronger.
So was Yuno and the others back home.
Even Secre had been working with Undine, trying to help Lolopechka recover or seal her curse.
No one could afford to babysit her.
And Noelle didn't want them to.
She didn't want anyone to see her like this.
Not when she couldn't even summon a drop of magic.
She tried. Over and over.
At first, it just sputtered.
Then it stopped entirely.
Her mana, her water, her dress—it wouldn't come.
Every time she raised her wand, her hands shook.
She saw the blood again.
Heard the crunch of ribs breaking under pressure.
Saw that man's face.
Felt her heart race like she was being hunted.
And then… nothing.
Noelle Silva, born of royalty, trained by the best, chosen by Valkyries and Dragons.
Now just a girl who flinched at her own reflection.
You're pathetic.
She bit her tongue until it bled.
Some nights, she cried.
Most nights, she didn't.
She just stared at the ceiling, thinking about everything she'd ruined.
Her family would be disgusted. Even Nozel—cold, noble Nozel—would look at her with that same bitter shame he used to wear before they made peace.
Her mother, if she were alive, would probably turn away.
You killed them.
You're not fit to bear her name.
Even her younger self—bratty, arrogant, terrified—would have hated her for this.
She wasn't a knight.
Not anymore.
She wasn't anything.
—
By the end of the first week, she stopped brushing her hair.
By the second, she stopped eating more than a bite or two a day.
She thought about quitting. Giving up. Walking away from the war, from Heart, from Clover, from everything.
Maybe she'd go back to her family.
No.
They wouldn't take her.
And even if they did—she didn't want to crawl back.
Not like this.
But what else is left?
The sun rose. The sun set.
Nothing changed.
Until the third week.
She sat outside for the first time.
Not because she wanted to.
Because she thought she might suffocate if she stayed in that room another minute.
The air felt wrong.
The light stung her eyes.
And yet… she stayed.
One hour passed. Then two.
She didn't feel better.
But she didn't run away either.
Then she heard footsteps.
She didn't even look up.
She didn't need to.
Asta.
Of course it was Asta.
Only he would be dumb enough to come see her when she'd made it very clear she didn't want company.
He dropped a sandwich beside her.
Didn't say anything.
Then he sat down too.
No words.
Just… sat.
Like it was normal.
Like she wasn't broken.
Like she was still her.
Noelle wanted to tell him to leave.
Wanted to scream at him.
To say he was wasting his time on a failure.
But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.
He stayed until sunset.
Said one thing before leaving.
"I'll come back tomorrow."
And he did.
—
He came back the next day.
Same time. Same place.
Another sandwich in hand.
He didn't say anything when he sat beside her.
Just unwrapped the sandwich. Placed it gently between them. Close, but not too close.
She didn't touch it.
Neither did he.
They just sat there.
Two hours passed.
He stood.
"I'll come back tomorrow."
And he did.
Again.
And again.
And again.
For the first week, she said nothing.
He didn't push her.
Didn't ask stupid questions like are you okay or what happened.
Didn't give her some inspirational speech.
He just showed up.
Sometimes he brought food. Sometimes just himself.
Once, he brought a mango.
She stared at it like it was an alien.
He grinned. "It reminded me of you."
Noelle blinked. "A mango?"
"Yeah. Hard to open, but really sweet inside."
She stared at him.
Then threw the mango at his face.
It bounced off his forehead and hit the dirt.
He just laughed.
And she… almost smiled.
Almost.
But not yet.
—
The next week, he spoke more.
Little things.
Not deep.
Not heavy.
He told her about training with Gaja. About how hard it was.
How his arms wouldn't stop shaking from holding Demon-Slayer too long.
How Leo tried to cook something and nearly blew up an entire orchard.
About Lolopechka getting emotional over a frog she named Marshmallow.
Noelle didn't laugh. Not out loud.
But the corner of her mouth twitched once.
She hated that.
But not really.
—
The fourth time he sat with her, she finally asked.
"Why are you doing this?"
Asta blinked.
She expected some dumb, heroic answer.
But he just looked at her and shrugged.
"You looked lonely."
That was it.
Not because she was royalty.
Not because she was his squadmate.
Not because of some duty or guilt.
You looked lonely.
She didn't know what to say.
So she said nothing.
He smiled anyway.
—
Little by little, things changed.
The silence became less heavy.
He talked more.
She listened more.
He started asking her to walk with him.
Just around the field. Small laps.
The first time, she refused.
The second time, she followed.
He didn't say anything. Just matched her pace.
Didn't try to hold her arm. Didn't push.
She walked two minutes, then stopped.
He nodded like it was a marathon.
Next day, five minutes.
The day after, ten.
She was still pale. Still fragile.
Still haunted.
But something started shifting.
Inside her chest.
It was slow.
Tiny.
Like a whisper in the dark.
Maybe I'm not completely broken.
—
Asta never brought up what happened.
Never asked about the mission. About the scouts. About the blood.
But Noelle knew he knew.
Everyone did.
But only he treated her like she was still whole.
Not fragile glass.
Not some cursed princess who shattered the second someone looked too close.
Just Noelle.
Just her.
That mattered more than she could ever admit.
—
One afternoon, she broke.
She didn't mean to.
But it all came out.
They were sitting under the trees. Grass itchy under her legs. His coat flung over a rock nearby.
The wind stirred her hair, but she didn't care anymore.
She just whispered it.
"I killed them."
Asta didn't move.
She stared at the dirt. Hands clenched.
"I didn't mean to. I just—acted. They were hurting people. I didn't think."
She swallowed hard.
"I didn't know it would be that easy."
Her throat burned.
Her eyes stung.
"I thought it would feel like justice. Like protecting people. But it didn't. It felt—wrong. Like something inside me died when I did it."
She blinked fast.
Her voice cracked.
"I hate myself."
Silence.
No wind now. No birds. Just her shaking breath and the pounding in her ears.
Then—
Asta reached over.
Took her hand.
Held it, firm and steady.
"You're not a bad person."
She didn't believe him.
But she didn't let go.
He didn't either.
—
They sat like that for a long time.
No magic.
No yelling.
No confessions.
Just her hand in his.
Just the weight of everything she'd been carrying... shared.
Just a little.
—
He came back the next day.
And the next.
And the next.
They talked more now.
Not just small things.
She told him about her mother.
About how she was always strong. Always fearless.
According to others anyways. Noelle wouldn't know. She didn't any any recollection of the women after all.
But still Noelle kept talking, and telling him things.
How she spent her whole childhood afraid she'd never measure up to her siblings and mother.
How she still felt like that sometimes.
Asta listened.
Didn't interrupt. Didn't try to fix her.
Just listened.
Then said, "I think your mom would be proud of you."
That wrecked her more than any attack spell ever could.
—
She started eating again.
Real meals.
Food he cooked—or tried to.
Most of it was too salty.
She didn't care.
She stopped hiding in her room.
Started brushing her hair.
Started standing up straighter.
One day, she cast a tiny water spell.
Just a flicker.
A trickle.
She cried.
Asta hugged her.
Didn't let go.
—
Then something shifted between them.
Not dramatic.
Not spoken.
But real.
He started standing closer.
She didn't move away.
She looked at him longer.
He held her gaze.
Their conversations grew deeper.
Their silences more comfortable.
Their laughter easier.
Noelle wasn't healed.
Not fully.
But she wasn't drowning anymore.
Because Asta had reached into the water and pulled her up—slowly, patiently, with both hands.
And never once let go.
—
She didn't mean to fall for him.
Oh who was she kidding.
She was in love with that brash, tactless, magicless peasant for a long time, but only now just realized it.
But she didn't mean for it to suddenly happen.
It just happened.
Like rain on a dry window.
Like sunlight creeping past the curtains.
It started quiet.
She liked how he looked at her.
Like she was still her.
Not a victim.
Not a royal.
Not broken.
Just Noelle.
Just the girl in front of him.
—
He never tiptoed around her.
Never acted like she was fragile china.
He was gentle.
But never weak.
She hated pity.
He never offered it.
Only respect.
And warmth.
So much warmth.
—
The thing that killed her?
He never expected anything back.
Never asked her to be okay.
Never asked her to smile.
Never asked her to pretend.
He just kept showing up.
Every day.
Like it was the most normal thing in the world.
—
One night, they sat beside the lake.
Quiet. No missions. No pressure.
The moon was high. The water still.
She saw her reflection. Pale. Hollow-eyed.
But not alone.
Asta was next to her, arms propped behind him, eyes watching the stars like they held answers.
They didn't talk for a while.
Just breathed the same air.
And that was enough.
—
Then she said it.
"I was going to quit."
His eyes flicked to her.
Not surprised.
Not shocked.
Just waiting.
She kept going.
"After the mission… I was ready to leave the Bulls. Magic Knights. Everything."
A pause.
"I didn't want to fight anymore."
The silence pressed in.
"I didn't think I deserved to."
—
He didn't argue.
Didn't try to talk her out of it.
He just nodded.
And said—
"I would've followed you."
She stared.
"What?"
"If you quit," he said simply, "I would've gone too."
She blinked hard.
The wind picked up.
"That's stupid," she whispered.
He smiled.
"Probably."
—
Her throat tightened.
Something about the way he said it—
So honest. So plain.
No drama.
Just truth.
Like it was obvious.
Of course he would.
Because it was her.
—
She looked at him.
Really looked.
At the boy who trained himself bloody.
The one who never gave up.
Never stopped believing.
Even in her.
Especially in her.
What are you doing to me…
—
She wanted to say something.
But the words stuck.
So instead—
She scooted closer.
Their shoulders touched.
He didn't move away.
She stared at the water.
Then whispered, "I hated you at first."
He chuckled. "I know."
She smiled. "You were loud. Reckless. Always shouting."
He grinned. "Still am."
She sighed. "Yeah. But now it's different."
A quiet pause.
"You're the only thing that makes me feel real anymore."
—
He turned.
Met her eyes.
Didn't speak.
Didn't joke.
Just looked.
Her heart beat too fast.
She wanted to run.
She wanted to stay.
She wanted—
Noelle, don't ruin this.
So she swallowed everything.
All the things pressing against her chest.
And said—
"I'm glad you're here."
He smiled.
Not wide.
Not loud.
Just soft.
Like he understood everything she didn't say.
—
That night, she dreamed.
But for once—
It wasn't blood.
Wasn't screams.
Wasn't guilt.
It was him.
Laughing.
Holding her hand.
Just her and Asta beneath a blue sky that never ended.
She woke up with tears on her cheeks.
But she was smiling.
—
The next morning, she met him at the lake first.
He looked surprised.
In a good way.
She handed him a sandwich.
It was terrible.
He ate the whole thing.
"Still better than Leo's," he said.
She rolled her eyes.
But her chest felt light.
—
Later, he trained.
Sweat dripping. Shirt half off. Muscles flexing.
She pretended not to look.
Failed.
He caught her staring.
Grinned.
She turned red.
Nearly drowned herself in her own water spell.
—
He didn't tease her.
Too much.
Just smirked and offered her a towel.
She slapped it away.
But her fingers brushed his.
They both paused.
That heat again.
That thing between them that hadn't been named yet.
But was definitely there.
—
That night, she sat on her bed.
Staring at the ceiling.
One thought kept circling.
I think I love him.
It terrified her.
Because she didn't know what to do with it.
Didn't know what it meant.
But she knew it was true.
It wasn't sudden.
It wasn't sweet.
It was slow.
Heavy.
Real.
—
She remembered how he held her hand.
How he listened.
How he never asked her to be anything she wasn't.
Not even once.
I think I've loved him for a while now.
She curled into her pillow.
Heart pounding.
Eyes wide.
Asta Grimoire-less.
Muscle-brained.
Loud.
Annoying.
Kind.
Wonderful.
Damn you.
She laughed softly into the blanket.
Her chest ached.
But this time—
It didn't hurt.
—
The morning after her realization, she didn't cry.
Didn't freeze.
Didn't run.
She walked out the door.
Head high.
Not because she was better.
Not because she was healed.
But because he believed she could be.
And maybe that was enough.
—
Asta was already training.
Of course he was.
Sweating. Focused. Shirtless again—unintentionally cruel.
She didn't falter.
She walked straight into the clearing.
And said, "Spar with me."
He turned, surprised. "You sure?"
No hesitation. "Yes."
A flicker of concern. "You've barely—"
"I said yes."
His grin bloomed.
Like it'd been waiting.
"Alright, Noelle."
—
The first time they clashed, she missed on purpose.
Still scared.
Still hesitant.
Asta noticed.
Didn't say anything.
Just blocked and dodged and waited.
Waited until she was ready.
—
The third day, she almost hit him.
Not on purpose.
But close.
He smirked.
"You're holding back."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Silence.
Then—
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't."
"How do you know?"
His smile softened.
"Because you care too much."
—
That pissed her off.
So she hit him.
Dead center.
Water whip across the ribs.
He flew backward.
Landed with a grunt.
She gasped. "Asta—!"
He laughed.
Loud. Breathless. Happy.
"Finally!"
—
Something cracked open inside her.
Like a dam breaking.
Power surged.
So she didn't stop.
She didn't hold back.
For once in her life—
She let it all out.
—
Her mana flared so hard it shook the trees.
Water spiraled, wild and unrestrained.
She roared.
Not in rage.
Not in fear.
But freedom.
She struck, again and again.
Asta met her blow for blow, Anti-Magic clashing with her raw control.
Each time they collided, she felt alive.
More alive than she had in months.
—
By the end, they were on the ground.
Exhausted.
Burning lungs.
Shaky limbs.
She laughed. Just once.
He wheezed. "You're terrifying."
She smirked. "Took you long enough to notice."
—
The next day, they trained again.
Harder.
Faster.
No breaks.
They moved like they'd been doing this forever.
Noelle didn't flinch anymore.
She wanted to fight.
Wanted to feel her magic again.
To own it.
To stop being afraid of herself.
—
Asta pushed her.
But gently.
Always just enough.
She pushed him too.
Tried to catch him off guard.
She never succeeded.
Not once.
But he said she was helping him improve.
That sparring with her was the best training he'd had in years.
That made her chest flutter.
Every time.
—
Mimosa watched once.
Stayed hidden, out of respect.
But Noelle saw her smile.
It wasn't pity.
It was pride.
That meant something.
—
Lolopechka cried when she saw her in Valkyrie Dress again.
Noelle hadn't worn it since the mission.
Her hand had shaken when she summoned it.
But she did.
And stood tall.
"I'm not scared of it anymore," she said.
Then turned to Asta.
"Because I'm not alone anymore."
—
They trained morning to night.
Eating together.
Laughing more than before.
Touching more.
Accidentally, then not-so-accidentally.
Hands brushing.
Shoulders leaning.
Too-long eye contact.
No one said anything.
But it was obvious.
—
Even Secre started making sarcastic comments.
During a trip back at the base, Vanessa raised an eyebrow once and offered them wine.
They declined.
Gordon whispered something and gave them a potion "for stamina."
It exploded.
They were still finding glitter in their boots.
—
Noelle didn't care.
Not about the teasing.
Not about the whispers.
She was finally herself again.
Stronger. Sharper.
Still scared—but moving anyway.
Asta was her anchor.
But she was learning to swim.
—
On the twelfth day, she beat him.
Only for a second.
Caught him off guard.
Knocked his sword away.
Water blade at his throat.
She froze.
The past flickered—blood, bodies, fear.
But then—
He smiled.
"I yield."
And she didn't collapse.
Didn't panic.
Just exhaled.
And dropped the blade.
—
He caught her hand before she walked away.
Their eyes met.
Nothing was said.
But everything was understood.
—
Two days left until the war.
They were ready.
Stronger than they'd ever been.
Their magic, their bond, their trust—it all crackled in the air between them.
Unspoken.
Unbreakable.
—
That night, Noelle lay awake.
Staring at the ceiling again.
Heart calm for once.
Because now, she wasn't afraid of her magic.
Wasn't afraid of what she felt.
Wasn't afraid of herself.
She closed her eyes.
Whispered into the dark—
Thank you, Asta.
For everything.
—
The final day before departure came too fast.
It always does.
Noelle stared out over the Heart Kingdom's lake at dawn.
Her reflection rippled in the water.
She didn't flinch at the sight.
Not anymore.
—
Behind her, she heard footsteps.
She didn't turn.
"I'm ready," she said.
Asta didn't ask if she was sure.
He just smiled. "I know."
—
Packing didn't take long.
Everything important, she carried inside her now.
Strength.
Resolve.
And something gentler. Warmer.
Something that had nothing to do with magic.
—
Everyone gathered in the courtyard.
It felt strange.
No grand speeches.
No parade.
Just light tension and final checks.
The calm before the storm.
—
Lolopechka cried again.
"Please come back," she said, hugging them all.
"I will," Noelle promised.
And this time, she believed it.
—
Mimosa clasped her hands. "You're glowing," she whispered.
Noelle snorted. "It's sweat."
But… maybe it wasn't.
—
Secre gave her a rare, genuine look.
Then flew to perch on Asta's shoulder.
Noelle pretended not to be jealous.
She failed.
—
The Black Bulls arrived in their usual chaos.
Yami said something about "don't die."
Then lit a cigarette and walked off.
Charmy was already eating rations.
Finral kept glancing at Vanessa while smacking his own fact.
Grey panicked over forgetting a spoon.
Normal.
Strangely comforting.
—
Asta stood beside her as they prepared to depart.
He looked out at the rising sun.
Then turned to her.
"You're not the same girl who couldn't look people in the eye."
She smirked. "And you're not the idiot who couldn't shut up."
"Hey."
She nudged him. "I liked that idiot."
—
Silence fell between them.
But it wasn't awkward.
It was full.
Like everything they hadn't said was still being spoken anyway.
He looked at her.
Really looked.
"Noelle."
Her breath caught. "Yeah?"
But he hesitated.
Then smiled.
"Let's win this first."
She exhaled.
"Yeah."
—
The battlefield was a blur of noise and fire.
And yet, they moved together like clockwork.
Noelle in her Valkyrie Dress.
Fierce.
Fearless.
Not because she wanted to kill.
But because she wanted to protect.
—
Asta was relentless.
But he still found time to glance at her every few minutes.
To make sure she was okay.
She did the same.
—
They fought the Dark Triad's forces without hesitation.
Noelle faced her demons—literally and figuratively.
She didn't freeze.
Didn't falter.
She didn't even vomit this time.
Progress.
—
At one point, blood splashed on her arm.
She stared at it.
Then wiped it off.
And kept moving.
Her hands didn't shake.
—
When Megicula and Vanica finally appeared—
Noelle stepped forward first.
Asta moved passed her without a word heading for the other Zogratis siblings.
They didn't speak.
They didn't have to.
They were ready.
—
The battle would be long.
Brutal.
There would be pain.
Fear.
Sacrifice.
But Noelle no longer feared her strength.
Or her heart.
Or the boy who had helped her reclaim both.
—
After the final clash—after the dust settled, after the victory—
She stood beside him again.
Bruised.
Exhausted.
Alive.
Asta turned to her.
Opened his mouth.
But she beat him to it.
—
"I love you."
His eyes widened.
Then softened.
And he laughed.
"About time."
—
She rolled her eyes.
But she was smiling.
Not just with her mouth.
With everything in her.
—
Noelle Silva had always been strong.
But now?
Now she was whole.
And whatever came next—
War, peace, love, loss—
She was ready.
Because she'd stopped running.
Because she wasn't alone.
—
Because Asta was beside her.
And this time…
She'd never let go.
—
Bonus Epilogue: The Night After The Victory
It was well past midnight when Noelle found herself outside his room.
Her heart pounded louder than any battlefield ever had.
She raised her hand to knock.
Hesitated.
Then knocked anyway.
Softly.
Once.
Twice.
—
The door creaked open.
Asta blinked at her, shirtless, hair tousled from sleep.
He didn't say anything at first—just rubbed his eyes and stared like she wasn't real.
"…Noelle?"
She swallowed. "Hey."
His voice dropped. "Everything okay?"
—
Noelle stepped inside without answering.
The door clicked shut behind her.
She turned to face him, arms folded tight.
"I just… wanted to say thank you."
Asta tilted his head. "For what?"
"You know what."
—
A beat passed.
Noelle stared at the floor.
"I was falling apart. You picked up the pieces. You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," he said quietly.
She looked up.
He meant it.
Of course he did.
—
Noelle crossed the room in two slow steps.
Stood in front of him.
So close she could hear his breathing hitch.
"I never got to show you," she said, barely above a whisper.
"Show me…?"
She reached up.
Brushed his cheek with her fingers.
"That you matter to me."
—
His eyes widened.
She leaned in.
Kissed him.
Soft.
Warm.
Not desperate. Not afraid.
Just real.
—
When they broke apart, he didn't speak.
He just held her.
Like he'd been waiting to do it forever.
She rested her head against his chest.
His heartbeat was fast.
So was hers.
—
Neither moved for a long time.
Then Noelle pulled back.
Her cheeks were flushed.
"I don't want to sleep alone tonight," she said.
Asta's breath caught.
"…You sure?"
She nodded.
"I'm not afraid of my feelings anymore. Or my strength. Or you."
A pause.
"Besides," she added, a little smirk curling her lips, "you have been working hard. You deserve a reward."
—
Asta stared at her, completely red now.
"…Wh-What kind of reward?"
Noelle leaned in again, lips brushing his ear.
"The kind that proves how much I appreciate you."
She pulled back before he could combust entirely.
Turned and walked toward the bed.
—
"Coming?"
Asta blinked.
"Y-Yeah!"
He followed quickly, tripping slightly on his own feet.
She laughed under her breath.
Gods, she loved him.
—
Later, naked and wrapped in his arms under warm blankets, Noelle whispered into the dark:
"I'm not letting you go."
Asta kissed the crown of her head.
"Good."
They didn't need anything else.
Not words.
Not titles.
Just each other.
—
And in the quiet, after all the battles were over, Noelle finally slept without fear.
Because she was home.
And so was he.
Together.
At last.