100 Prompt Challenge - Astelle

Prompt: Noelle had always dreamed of a knight who told her to endure. She never expected to find him in a reckless, magicless peasant. Asta didn't understand why Noelle, a royal, looked at him like she had known him forever. But he trusted his instincts. He became her Black Knight—and he fell for her.

—

Noelle Silva was born into a world that had already decided her worth before she could even take her first breath.

She was a royal. A Silva. The youngest daughter of Acier Silva, the woman who was supposed to lead their family into the future with her unwavering strength and dignity. And yet, by the time Noelle was old enough to understand words, the whispers had already carved themselves into the walls of House Silva.

She was the failure. The disappointment. The one who had stolen Acier away from them.

The first memory she could recall was her father standing at a distance, a man whose face she could barely remember, only his absence. Her brothers—her own flesh and blood—looking down on her with thinly veiled disdain. And Nebra, with her cold, lilting voice, calling her worthless as she laughed.

Her magic was uncontrollable, they said. Wild, undisciplined. A disgrace.

And so, she learned to hide. To keep her head down and her mouth shut. To swallow the barbed words that cut into her skin until she couldn't feel them anymore.

But every night, when she closed her eyes, she dreamed.

In the darkness of her slumber, she was not alone.

There was always a figure waiting for her. A blurry swordsman, his features obscured by mist, but his presence unwavering. He stood tall, strong, his outline glowing faintly, as though light itself refused to abandon him.

You're strong, Noelle. You just have to keep going.

His voice was warm, steady. It didn't mock. It wasn't scornful. It didn't waver, even when she doubted herself.

You can do this. I believe in you.

She would wake up with those words lingering in her chest, like a whisper of something she could never quite grasp.

The first time she tried to tell Solid about her dream, he laughed in her face.

"Pathetic," he sneered. "You need some imaginary knight to tell you you're not useless? Even your own delusions are pitiful."

Nebra giggled beside him, her silver hair swaying as she twirled a strand between her fingers. "Maybe she should marry him if she loves him so much. Oh wait, she can't even control her magic. What kind of noble would ever want her?"

Nozel didn't laugh. He didn't even look at her.

That hurt the most.

So, Noelle stopped talking about it. She kept her dreams to herself.

Years passed, and the scorn never faded. She endured each insult, each cold stare, each whispered remark from the nobles of the Clover Kingdom who pitied House Silva for producing such a disgrace of a daughter.

And every night, without fail, the swordsman in her dreams would be waiting for her.

One day, we'll meet.

She would reach for him, but the mist would always steal him away.

So don't give up, okay?

She didn't.

Even when her father died, when her siblings became colder, when she realized there was no place for her in House Silva—Noelle endured.

Because he told her to.

—

The day they shipped her off to the Black Bulls, she barely reacted.

Nozel delivered the news with his usual detached tone, as if sending her away was nothing more than taking out the trash. Maybe to him, it was.

"I hope you understand," he said, looking down at her with something that wasn't quite contempt, but wasn't kindness either. "This is all you are worth."

Noelle met his gaze, shoulders squared, chin lifted.

She didn't cry.

She was done crying for them.

—

The Black Bulls' base was nothing like House Silva's estate. It was chaotic, loud, filled with people who had no regard for noble traditions or royal customs.

And for the first time in her life, Noelle could breathe.

They didn't treat her like a princess. They didn't treat her like a failure. They just… treated her like a person.

But what truly shattered the last of her doubts was the boy she met that day.

A boy with ash-blonde hair, fern-green eyes, and a wide, unwavering grin. A boy with no magic, no noble blood, and yet stood with more pride than any royal she had ever known.

A boy who—despite all logic, despite all reason—felt so familiar.

Noelle felt her heart slam against her ribs. The world tilted.

Because the moment she saw him, the mist in her dreams finally cleared.

And she knew.

It had always been him.

Asta.

He was the swordsman from her dreams.

The one who had whispered to her when no one else would. The one who had believed in her when no one else did.

The moment his eyes met hers, she wanted to cry.

Because he had no idea.

Asta tilted his head, grinning. "Hey there! I'm Asta! Looks like we're teammates now, huh?"

Noelle swallowed past the lump in her throat, forcing her voice to stay steady.

"…Yes."

He beamed at her like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And in that moment, Noelle decided—she would never let him go.

She would stand by his side.

She would support him, believe in him, the way he had unknowingly done for her all her life.

And if the world dared to scorn him, to look down on him like they had done to her—then Noelle would be the first to fight back.

After all…

He was her knight.

And now, she would be his.

—

Asta didn't understand Noelle Silva.

The first time they met, he expected her to sneer at him like every other noble had. To toss her hair over her shoulder, look down on him, and maybe even mock his dream of becoming the Wizard King.

But she didn't.

She smiled.

It wasn't a big smile, just a small curve of her lips, but it was real. Kind.

That alone was enough to make him pause.

And then, when Magna shoved a Black Bulls robe into her hands and gave her the usual "welcome, you're family now!" speech, she didn't hesitate.

She accepted it like it meant something. Like she meant something.

Asta had seen plenty of nobles before, but none of them acted like her.

Noelle didn't scorn him. She didn't laugh when he told her his dream of becoming Wizard King. She just… believed in him. From the start.

That was weird, right?

—

It got weirder.

Noelle wasn't just kind—she was protective.

Whenever he got into an argument with Sekke or some noble knights during a mission, she would step forward with a cold, almost deadly smile and remind them exactly who she was.

"Know your place," she'd say, her magic crackling in the air.

And no one argued with a royal.

Not even the cockiest Magic Knights.

At first, Asta thought she was just standing up for her squadmate. That's what teammates did, right? But then, it kept happening.

Whenever someone insulted him, Noelle was the first to speak up.

Whenever he got injured, she was the first to rush to his side, hands trembling as she tried to heal him.

Whenever a girl smiled at or talked to him, she looked away, her hands clenched into fists, her lips pressed tight like she was holding something back.

Asta didn't get it.

But it made his chest feel… strange.

Warm.

—

The first time he saw Noelle cry, he wanted to punch something.

It was after a mission—just another patrol, nothing dangerous. He had been joking with Rebecca, laughing at something dumb Luck said, when he noticed Noelle slip away from the group.

His gut told him to follow.

He found her behind the inn, sitting on the stone steps with her arms wrapped around herself, shoulders shaking.

Asta didn't hesitate.

"Noelle?"

She jerked, whipping around, eyes wide.

He didn't say anything, just stepped forward and sat next to her.

She wiped at her eyes quickly. "I—It's nothing."

"No, it's not." He leaned back, staring up at the night sky. "You always say that, but it's not true."

She didn't answer.

The silence stretched between them, but Asta didn't rush her. He just sat there, waiting.

Finally, Noelle exhaled.

"My family," she said, her voice small. "They hate me."

Asta's breath caught.

She never talked about them. Ever.

"They always told me I was a failure," she continued. "That I was the reason my mother died. That I'd never be strong enough to be a true Silva."

Asta clenched his fists.

How could they say that? How could they treat her like that?

Noelle was amazing.

She was strong, even if she didn't see it. She was kind, even when she had every reason to be cruel. She worked harder than anyone, pushing herself until she collapsed, until her hands were raw, until she could finally control the magic they mocked her for.

And those bastards—her own family—treated her like she was worthless?

Asta didn't understand.

But he knew one thing for sure.

They were wrong.

"…I don't know much about noble families," he said, staring down at his hands. "But I know they're wrong about you."

Noelle blinked.

"You're incredible, Noelle." He turned to her, his grin unwavering. "And if they can't see that, then screw them! I see it."

Her lips parted slightly, like she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

Asta scratched his cheek, looking away. "I don't really get it, but… I just—" He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I hate seeing you sad."

Something shifted in her expression.

Slowly, carefully, she reached out and took his hand.

Asta froze.

Her fingers were warm. Delicate. But they squeezed his hand tightly, like she was trying to ground herself.

"…Thank you," she whispered.

His heart thumped in his chest.

Asta didn't understand this feeling.

Not yet.

—

It took him a while.

It wasn't until a mission went south—until Noelle was thrown back by an enemy's spell, coughing up blood—that it finally hit him.

The second he saw her crumple, something inside him snapped.

There was no thinking. No hesitation.

He ran.

Noelle barely managed to lift her head, her eyes hazy. "Asta…?"

He dropped to his knees beside her, hands trembling.

"Don't move!" He pressed a hand against her shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. "Just—Just stay with me, okay?"

She tried to smile. "I—I'm fine—"

"No, you're not!" His voice cracked. "You always do this! You always act like you're okay, like nothing hurts, but it's not true! I see it, Noelle—I see you—and it kills me when you get hurt!"

She blinked up at him, stunned.

And then, finally, it hit him.

The urge to protect her. The way he noticed every little thing about her. The way his heart raced whenever she smiled. The way he couldn't imagine a future without her in it.

Asta sucked in a sharp breath.

He loved her.

He loved her.

"…Oh," he whispered.

Noelle's eyes searched his, wide and uncertain. "…Oh?"

He exhaled a breathless laugh. "I—I think I'm in love with you."

Her face turned red.

"What?!"

Asta grinned, his heart pounding. "Yeah. Yeah, I definitely love you."

Noelle made a strangled noise, her hands flying to her face. "Y-You can't just say that so casually!"

"Why not? It's true."

She groaned, sinking further into her hands.

Asta chuckled, reaching out to gently pull them away. "Hey, look at me."

She did.

His smile softened. "You're amazing, Noelle. And I don't care what your family says—I'm never gonna leave your side."

She swallowed, her eyes shining.

Then, finally, she smiled.

Asta grinned back.

Because he finally understood.

Noelle had always been by his side.

Now, he would be by hers.

Forever.

—

She was dreaming again.

But this time, the dream was clear.

No more blurred images. No more indistinct voices whispering through the haze of sleep.

The swordsman—the one who had always told her to endure, to keep living, to wait until they met—was no longer a silhouette.

He had messy white hair, a boyish grin, and the warmest eyes she had ever seen.

Asta.

It was always him.

And now, he was real. Flesh and blood. Laughing and shouting and standing right beside her.

For years, she had clung to a voice in the dark, believing that someday, he would come for her. That he would be different.

He was.

He always had been.

She stood beside him now, watching the sunrise bathe the Clover Kingdom in gold. They were still catching their breath from last night's battle, still stained with sweat and dust and the remnants of a hard-won victory.

Noelle looked at him, at the boy who had changed everything, and felt a warmth spread through her chest.

"You really meant it," she said softly.

Asta turned to her, blinking. "Huh?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "Back then. When you said you'd never leave my side."

His expression softened. "Of course I meant it."

His hand found hers, calloused fingers threading through her own without hesitation.

Noelle squeezed back.

She had spent her whole life waiting for a knight to save her.

What she hadn't realized was that he had been waiting for her too.

—

He had never been the type to believe in fate.

Asta had always thought things happened because people made them happen.

That if he wanted to become Wizard King, he had to train until his muscles burned, until his bones ached, until he could barely stand.

That if he wanted to protect his friends, he had to fight, no matter how impossible the odds seemed.

That if he wanted something, he had to grab it with both hands and never let go.

But Noelle…

She made him wonder.

Because somehow, someway, they had always been meant to meet.

Maybe that was fate. Maybe it was something else entirely.

Either way, Asta didn't care.

All that mattered was that she was here. With him.

And he wasn't going to let her go.

—

The first light of dawn stretched across the horizon, chasing away the darkness.

Noelle exhaled, the breeze tugging at her silver hair.

Asta smiled, his grip on her hand steady and sure.

They weren't children anymore.

They weren't lost.

And they weren't alone.

Noelle had spent her life searching for a knight in shining armor.

Asta had spent his life chasing a dream.

Neither of them realized that they were what the other had been looking for all along.

Their journey wasn't over. There were still battles to fight, challenges to overcome, dreams to reach for.

But no matter what came next, one thing was certain.

They would face it together.