The night before a big journey. Everyone had already gone to sleep - except for you and him. The two of you sat outside the barracks, wrapped in silence and moonlight.

Tristan glanced at you, eyes full of something he’d been trying to say for months. "You know," he started, voice barely above a whisper, "I've battled, even my own magic turning against me. But somehow, talking to you feels scarier."

You didn't respond - just turned your head, waiting. He swallowed hard. "I love you." The words were quiet, but they echoed louder than any battle cry he'd ever given.