An ode to L'manburg || Dream X Reader

1| Our first fight

~Y/N POV~

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here in the middle of a war?" A raspy deep voice echoed behind me.

"I smirked and fixed the collar of my recently washed L'manburg uniform. I stopped and my combat boots knocked on the soiled old wood of what was called prime path.

My sword slid against the leather material of my sheath. I turned to face the man, sword in hand. I fell to the ground surprised as I saw a netherite axe at my neck. A purple hue shined in the sun as the strong unbreakable material threatened to stop my breathing. The axe was placed under my chin forcing me to look the man in the eyes. Or mask I should say. Caught off guard I reach for my sword on the ground beside me. Countering your movements the male stomps the sword as it flies into the air landing in his gloved hands. Completely defenseless I look at the man before me. His dirty blonde hair peeking from the side of his mask with a smile upon the white surface. A green hoodie framed the mans lean figure. A leather arrow sheath wrapped snuggly around his torso, and a crossbow stretched across his back. I looked to the mans feet and saw black combat boots, like mine.

I glanced to my side and saw a branch had been lying beside me, picking it up I swept my feet under the masked mans boots. Loosing balance he pulls the axe away from my neck. I snatch the stick and direct it at the mans left arm, now carelessly swinging my sword in the air. He drops my sword and I catch it pointing it upon his chest. Regaining balance the a fighting position, I do the same. He swings his axe at me. I duck barely missing the deadly hit. Leaving an opening for a hit on the man I use my non-dominant hand and hit the mans shoulder making him groan in pain. I slide between swings he throws at me. He regains balance in his posture and starts to laugh. I stay in a fighting stance ready for anything he throws at me.

"you're a good fighter, I admit. Too bad you're fighting for the other side." He swooned I could hear the smirk in his infuriating voice. "It'll be tragic the day when you can't fight anymore." the man said.

I had never seen him before, heard of him yes, but never seen. His words levitated, distracted I take a standing position, questioning what he meant. He started taking off his hood, then his mask. Before his face was revealed something hard hit the side of my head.

Then it went Black.

~4 hours earlier~

"Y/N get up it's time." Wilbur said as I sleepily got out of bed.

"What does that even mean?" I asked sarcastically.

"Come on, we have a big day ahead of us, wash up and come out for breakfast then we can move forward with the plan." He said groggily.

(This plan is not part of the DreamSMP war, not that I know of at least.)

Wilbur left my room and I swung my bare and chilled feet over the side of my bed. It had been a long and cold night. I had been anxious for today so I didn't get much sleep. I walked to my dresser as the floorboards creaked under me. I grabbed my L'manburg coat and undershirt, ironed the wrinkles and slipped it over my figure. I slipped on my black combat boots and put my sword in my sheath and wrapped it around my belted waist.

"Goodmorning Y/N!" Tubbo shouted as he ran to me.

"Hello Tubbo! Goodmorning" I said, hugging the 5'5, 16 year old brown haired cheery boy. he was a few inches taller then me so his chin was placed upon my head.