#prue week

Author's Note: I acknowledge that this doesn't even fit within my OWN version of canon but I just love the idea of Prue vaguely knowing about Paige her whole life because, let's be real, she was definitely old enough.

Sliding open the door, Prue barely registered Sam’s presence before he spoke, not looking up from his task.

“I knew I should have given you a stronger dose.”

“I thought you would have learned yesterday that stuff doesn’t work on me.”

Sam froze, but still refused to turn around. “I had to protect you and your sisters.”

“From remembering you? From stopping the demon that killed Mom?”

The moment she saw Sam the day before, there was a fogginess in Prue’s mind, something screaming at her that she knew exactly who this man was, and that he was important. When Leo revealed he was Mom’s whitelighter, the logical part of her told her that must have been what she was missing, but… no, there was something else. And then this morning when Leo helped them break through the memory powder…

They loved each other. Prue may have been a carefree, free-spirited seven-year-old before her mom died—the kind of girl she grew to envy as the years continued on—but she was no blind fool. She could remember them together. No matter how hard they tried to hide it. It seemed so obvious now.

“If you truly loved Mom then you know that this isn’t the answer.”

“Isn’t it? I promised her I would protect you and your sisters.”

With Sam finally turning around, Prue tilted her head questioningly, giving him a knowing look. “I know. I also know you promised her you’d never clip your wings—that protecting the innocent was more important.”

“How do you know that?” He snapped, voice sharper than intended.

“I know way more than you think I do.” The fierceness in her eyes only grew, and Sam almost seemed to shrink back under her gaze, recognising what it was she was referencing. So many confusing memories were falling into place for her. Her mom, visibly pregnant, yet Phoebe was already born...

You’re just getting your memories mixed up, Grams would say. It’s Mom, I wouldn’t remember wrong, Prue would always counter. Now she knew she was right. And Sam looked… afraid.

Looking down at the axe in his hands, trying desperately to draw the conversation away from his secret daughter—how could she know? She was a child! —Sam spoke.

“Protecting you girls is more important than any innocent. I knew you’d come, no matter what I did. I couldn’t let it happen to you, too.”

“So you’d sacrifice innocent lives? Is that what Mom would want? The Sam I remember would—”

“Don’t talk to me about the Sam you remember. You weren’t supposed to remember. Besides, that man is long gone. He died the day Patty did.”

“No. No he isn’t. You still have good in you, Sam. I know you want to stop that demon. But you have to help us. Help us avenge Mom’s death and stop it from killing again.”

He turned away, shaking his head. “I can’t let it hurt you. You’re… you’re so much like her. It’d be like failing her all over again.”

As much as Prue wanted to snap back about how she was nothing like her mother—a rude habit of hers, Piper and Phoebe helped her realise—she instead took a breath. “You won’t fail her. Or me. We can kill this thing with your help. Please. If not for me, or for Mom, do it…” she hesitated. “Do it for your daughter.”

Author's Note: Not only do I love this spell, but I also love Phoebe's little "you have got to lay off the rhyming" line afterwards, which is the inspiration for this ficlet.

“Alright, so Piper and I will work on the potion, and Phoebe will write the spell.”

“Wait, me? Why do I have to write the spell?” In typical youngest sibling fashion, she placed her hands on her hips and frowned as she complained.

“Hey, you’re better than us at writing spells. Plus, the Book doesn’t have too much information, and you have the extra intel from your premonition.”

“Fine,” Phoebe groaned. And so she was sat at the kitchen table struggling to think of words to string together while Prue and Piper chatted away making the potion. She secretly knew that Prue was right—she was the best spell writer, but that didn’t mean she always enjoyed it. To think she hated poetry in high school and now was the one stuck rhyming words every other week. The bubbling pot on the stove was a much more exciting alternative.

“How’s that summoning spell coming along, Pheebs?” The elder sisters had fallen silent some time ago to help Phoebe work, and Prue’s voice snapped Phoebe out of her trance.

“Huh? Oh,” she glanced back down at the notepad in front of her, where a few lines were written down and a lot more were scribbled out. “I’m getting there. Just having a bit of trouble coming up with it today.”

Prue rounded the kitchen island, leaving Piper to bottle up the potions. “Do you want me to do it?”

“No, I can do it.” She snorted. “Besides, after your last spell? All that rhyming made me feel like I was on a children’s show.”

“The spell worked, didn’t it?” Prue folded her arms over her chest. It was a damn good spell! She combined three different spells to make that one and it worked perfectly! Phoebe wasn’t the only spell writing expert around here.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Phoebe grumbled, twirling her pen between her fingers.

Prue rolled her eyes and left the kitchen. A few years ago, such an interaction between the pair would have been full of tension—Piper would have stayed off to the side simply to avoid the conflict. But Prue and Phoebe were playful in their bickering, poking fun at each other with a banter only shared between siblings. It was for that reason that Prue returned with a book, dropping it on the table in front of Phoebe.

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. “A rhyming dictionary?”

Prue tapped the book encouragingly. “Hey, don’t underestimate how valuable this thing is. It’s gotten me through a lot of spells.”

With an eyeroll, Phoebe pulled the book towards her, opening the front cover.

Author's Note: You may notice that this ficlet does not follow the established canon of my ficlet from Day 1. That is because I was trying my best to recreate the Charmed Writer's Room.

When you danced with death every day, it was natural to imagine what that eventual day would be like. Prue held onto the idea of a heartfelt reunion with her mother and grandmother, maybe even Andy as well. Unfortunately, it didn’t go quite so well.

Unaware of what new abilities she now possessed as a spirit, Prue didn’t know how she wisped away from them, but she knew why. She thought Mom and Grams would understand how vulnerable Piper and Phoebe are now, and how badly she needed to go back to help them. ‘Reassuring’ her with news of a secret sister wasn’t the support she wanted or needed. They didn’t need a stranger, they needed her.

Alone and furious, the sudden sensation of hands on her shoulders grounded her again. She recognised their owner without turning around as his familiar scent washed over her.

Andy squeezed her shoulders comfortingly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to meet you,” he said. “Your Grams wouldn’t let me.”

Any anger that dissipated at Andy’s presence resurfaced at his words. Prue scoffed. “Yeah, she’s too focused on trying to control my destiny.”

She looked over her shoulder, turning around as she spoke. “Did you know?”

“Know what…?”

Taking his answer as genuine, she explained. “Mom had another baby she had to give up. And now they’re acting like that fact is supposed to solve everything.”

“How?”

“By reforming the Charmed Ones. Continuing the Power of Three. But they don’t understand. They’re too vulnerable right now. Emotionally and magically. Finding this sister may solve the magical problem but it just worsens the other.”

Andy sighed, a hand coming up to cradle Prue’s cheek. “They’re big girls now, Prue. They’ll be okay.”

“No. Piper’s powers are out of control and Phoebe is so focused on Cole—”

“They’ll be okay.”

His words were firm but so full of reassurance. Looking up into his eyes, Prue was struck by just how much they connected and how much she missed him. How could anyone else have ever compared to him? And it wasn’t just that. She wanted to trust him—Andy would never lie to her. But… her sisters…

“They need me.” She struggled to keep a level voice.

“Yes, they do.” Andy agreed. “But you aren’t powerless here. You can still help them.”

“How…?”

“You’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out.” Andy said, planting a kiss on her forehead before wisping away, leaving Prue to consider his words.

Closing her eyes, her mind drifted to her sisters, the sound of Piper’s voice soon filling her ears. Focusing on it further, the scene soon came to view in her mind’s eye. Piper, casting the To Call a Lost Witch spell, surrounded by herbs and candles and—the Book of Shadows.

That was it. She opened her eyes with a gasp, a rush of adrenaline flowing through her. The Book. Grams used it all the time as a spirit, didn’t she? Surely she could do the same?

Prue began to pace, thinking up a plan. The spell Piper was using was perfect, but she needed to rework it… She had combined spells before, she could do it again now.

Her spell ready, she hurriedly tried to get back to Piper—Prue hoped that using the Book in front of her would help her accept what was to happen. However when she returned, Phoebe was nudging Piper from the attic, the Book now closed on the table.

With a breath, Prue tried to channel her power through to the Book, opening it to the page Piper had been on. Another, nervous breath. Now for the spell.

In this night and in this hour, I call upon the Ancient Power, Return our sister to her home, No longer may she stand alone, Blood to blood, I summon thee, Reconstitute the Power of Three.

Immediately after the last word of the spell was spoken, white lights began to swirl around the book, and the pages flipped uncontrollably until the Book closed itself with a thud, the triquetra symbol on the front glowing. As the glow dissipated, Prue felt an indescribable feeling within, as though chains she didn’t know she were carrying were cut free. Her tether to the Power of Three had broken, she realised. And as the scene faded from her view, Prue knew that this was what her sisters needed. Their bond as sisters would forever remain, but their bond as Charmed Ones needed to be broken.

And with that bond broken, they had the power to create a new bond with their new sister.

Author's Note: I may revisit this in the future because I definitely wanted to write more but I didn't want it to get too long. This is just shy of 1k words and I like the idea of all these pieces being under 1k. I probably could have removed the first half but no, we need more Prue x Death content.

Prue had been a spirit before—it wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat. Seeing your unconscious body below you, and the odd sensation of light-headedness unlike any other that turns into a blinding headache upon returning to your body. Astral projection was a much easier process, and Prue had been putting off her desire to try and use the power in a spirit form simply because she didn’t know if she’d have to experience those sensations again.

Despite that, Prue didn’t recognise her situation when she rose. She had just been thrown through a wall—she was bound to be feeling a little out of it, and as she registered her surroundings, she failed to question the absence of Leo or her sisters.

It was only when she looked across the foyer and saw him that panic rose. Her head spun around, finding her own unconscious body on the floor behind her alongside Piper’s, blood flowing heavily from both. She needed to look away, but that meant looking back to him…

“Prue.”

She glared at him in anger. “What are you doing here?” This wasn’t right. Leo would be here any second to heal them. She wasn’t dead.

Yet it was the personification of Death himself who stood in front of her, expression as frustratingly neutral as the last time she saw him.

“You know what I’m doing here.” He stepped forward. “To be quite honest, I was not expecting to see your name at the top of my list again.” A beat. “But it will not be changing this time.”

“Yes, it will. My sisters will—”

“No, it won’t.” He spoke with agitation, struggling to maintain his neutrality. “It’s your time. Nothing your sisters can do will change this.”

With an outstretched hand, Death took another step towards Prue. “So, you best come with me now before they see you as a spirit. Trust me. It will be harder for them if they do. And harder for you, too.”

She glanced at his hand, his words running over in her mind. How would it be harder? They could say goodbye at the very least… Even so, she felt a pull towards him, her steps small as she approached him, as though she were being controlled by a higher power. Reaching out to take his hand, their touch was met with a flash of light, transporting them to an identical setting, except for the uncanny feeling of loneliness and discolouration.

Satisfied he had done his job, Death promptly released Prue’s hand and summoned his list with a flick of his wrist, checking the next name.

“This is where I leave you.”

“Wait—” But before she could voice her protest, the grey surroundings of the astral plane were filled with familiar bright white light. The light enveloped her, bringing with them a sense of tranquillity and peace Prue had never experienced before.

“Prudence.”

As the lights dissipated, Prue took in her new surroundings, which felt strangely familiar. Before her stood two figures she recognised as Elders—robed figures who exuded an aura of authority and goodness.

“What’s going on?”

“We are giving you a choice. Your destiny as a Charmed One has been fulfilled, and the powers beyond us will not allow it to be changed. It is your time.”

Prue wanted to butt in and ask who exactly these “powers” beyond the Elders were who could make that decision, but they were too focused on their pitch to let her speak.

“We can, however, offer you an alternate destiny. The chance to be a Whitelighter. If you accept, we will assign you to new witches—witches who have come to the craft in similar ways to you. You can continue the fight against evil and give them the support you wish you had.”

She suspected this was coming, but the offer still took her by surprise. It was certainly tempting. Who better to guide new witches than one who had been in the same situation? And it was a way to see her sisters…

“Do I get to see my sisters?” She couldn’t let them know how much she wanted this. Her concern for her sisters far surpassed her desire to help innocents, no matter how hard she fought it.

“One day. The mortal world thinks you are dead, Prudence. We cannot risk magic being exposed. There will be a time where you can see them again, but for now you would be assigned in a place with no risk of exposure.”

Prue crossed her arms over her chest. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Not that it mattered in all honesty—she wasn’t above disobeying the Elders, and it would be their poor judgment for offering her the position to begin with. They must know how risky it was when her mother and sister famously rebelled against the Elders with their Whitelighters.

But wasn’t her sister happily married now…?

“I’ll do it—I’ll become a Whitelighter.” Prue said after a tense minute’s silence. “But. You need to tell Leo. I understand. I can’t see my sisters right now. But I want them to know. He can explain it to them. And that way I know they will hold you accountable to that promise.”

Prue met the gaze of the shorter of the two Elders, who looked back at her with a knowing glint, as if she knew Prue would demand exactly this.

“Very well.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “He is with your sisters right now, but he will know by the end of your orientation.”

“Orientation…?” She said, looking down to her hands, which were beginning to glow a warm golden colour. The glow spread across her body, engulfing her in the same peacefulness she felt when she was transported here. When she looked back up, the two Elders were smiling at her.

Author's Note: Despite how much I liked the prompt I gave myself and how much I wanted to write it, I did struggle with getting this one done in a way I liked, so I hope you liked how it turned out!

Prue and her sisters borrowed each other’s things so much that when she did it this morning, she barely gave it a second thought. All she wanted was a pair of earrings that fit with her outfit, but then the bracelet caught her eye, and now…

“What are you doing?” Piper asked as she entered the attic, trying to hide the worry in her voice. Searching the Book of Shadows meant demons and she was so not in the mood.

Prue glanced up at Piper, panic flashing in her eyes. “I’m, uh… I lost something, I’m looking for a spell to find it.”

Piper scoffed. “Hello, personal gain? What did you lose?”

“Don’t worry.”

“Prue.” Piper said firmly. Her suspicion was high—Prue wouldn’t act this way unless she lost something really important.

Prue stopped her page turning, her head lowering further in shame. “I lost your charm bracelet.”

“My charm… the one Mom gave me?!” Her voice rose with each word as she fully realised what Prue was referring to. “How?”

“I-I-I I don’t know! I borrowed it this morning and I took it off at work and I must have misplaced it. I’m so sorry.”

“Prue!” Piper’s shoulders sagged with disappointment, yet she spoke at the same loud volume. “That bracelet was the only thing I had of Mom’s that was mine! Why did you even take it?”

“I know, I know, and I’m so sorry. I will get it back. I’m going to find the Lost and Found spell.”

“Whatever.” Knowing that she was seconds away from her anger turning to tears, Piper turned and stormed out of the attic. Even if Prue was genuine in her assertions of getting the bracelet back, it didn’t change the fact that she lost it in the first place. And Prue knew that too.

Which was why she spent the next hour thoroughly searching the Book, trying to find anything, not just the Lost and Found spell, to help. Admitting defeat, she realised Phoebe must have never added the spell to the Book—she’ll have to ask her as soon as she gets home. But first, she needed to fix things with Piper.

Just as she predicted, Piper was downstairs, still morose over the bracelet. Leo was with her, comforting her as best as he could, but stood at the sight of Prue, murmuring something to Piper about giving them some time to talk.

Prue took up Leo’s spot on the couch, letting out an awkward, “Hey.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Piper didn’t sound angry anymore, just upset.

“No, it’s okay. I get it, I would have done the same. I am so, so sorry I lost it. You could be mad at me forever and I would totally understand. I will get it back, I promise.”

Piper let out a small laugh. “I won’t be mad at your forever. But I will never let you live this down. I get free choice on any of your stuff whenever I want.”

Author's Note: For added context, this would have been set a few days before 3x03.

“Sorry I’m late,” Prue groaned as she entered. “My shoot ran over.”

“It’s okay,” Piper assured her from the dining room. “No one’s here yet. Well, except Darryl.”

Turning from the cupboard where she stored her work equipment, Prue smiled. “Hey, Darryl.”

“Hey, Prue. Happy birthday.”

There was still a good hour before the other guests were expected to arrive, and Piper and Phoebe were putting up the last of the decorations, with added help from Darryl when they couldn’t reach.

“How was your first day of being old?” Phoebe teased.

Prue rolled her eyes. “Thirty is not old.”

“Yes, it is,” Piper chipped in.

Shaking her head, Prue approached the dining table which was a mess of decorations. “You’re not that far behind, Piper.”

“Yeah, but you got there first, so you’re old.”

She looked to Darryl, still shaking her head with amusement. “Sisters, right?”

He rose his hands, a blue balloon wobbling around between his fingers. “I’m staying out of this.”

Turning her attention to the table, Prue spotted a gift bag, clearly separate from the rest of the decorations. “Who’s this from?”

“Me.”

Prue raised her eyebrows at Darryl’s voice. “Really? Thank you.” Darryl had never bought her anything before, and she was curious about what he got.

“Can… can I open it now?”

“Prue!” Piper called. “You can’t wait, like, an hour?”

“No, open it, I want to see!” Phoebe butted in.

Her eyes on Darryl, Prue waited for his response.

“Uh… if you want to, sure.”

Permission granted, Prue dove into the bag, pulling out a cylindrical object she quickly recognised as a candle. Her heart skipped a beat as she read the label: sandalwood and cedar. Taking off the lid, she brought it close to her nose, smiling as the earthy scent hit her.

“Is that scented?” Phoebe asked, reaching for it when Prue set it aside. She smelled it too but didn’t have the same emotional response. “It’s nice.”

There was one more thing in the bag—a perfume bottle. Reading the infusion, her eyes involuntarily welled with tears. “Oh, Darryl…”

She pulled off the cap and gave it a spray, taking in the scent. It didn’t smell exactly the same as Mom’s perfume—all the other notes were different—but the core sandalwood fragrance was there, summoning a swirl of emotions in her chest.

“You remembered?” Prue asked, surprised.

“Remembered what? What is it?” It was Piper that butted in this time. She picked up the candle and read the label but remained just as confused.

“Mom wore sandalwood,” Prue explained. She held out her arm, perfume in her hand. Piper took it, knowing just how linked memories were to scent—there were a few recipes she avoided for years simply because the aroma was too strong of a memory of Grams. Spraying the mist, she took a deep breath, letting it fill her senses. Perhaps it was just the new information, but the smell brought on a wonderful feeling of safety and comfort. It was like a warm hug.

Piper handed the bottle back to Prue with a smile. “How’d you know to get that?” She asked Darryl.

Author's Note: Let's be real, I didn't change much in the scene, but it's Prue/Jack content so who cares.

Prue stepped into her office and paused, suppressing a playful smirk. She was supposed to be business assertive but, damn it, she couldn’t help it.

“I could have sworn we already had this conversation… what are you doing in my chair?”

Jack Sheridan leaned back in the chair, not bothering to hide the smirk of his own. “And it seems neither of us were listening. You’re looking even more stunning than before. I don’t know how Buckland’s expects me to get any work done sending me to your office.”

“Ditto.” She placed her hands on her (noticeably exposed) hips. How ironic was it that she was wearing a pink cardigan right now when it was that version of her alter ego she was trying to suppress—or was it the blue cardigan side? Yes, blue cardigan. The point was that she wanted to respond to Jack’s witty quips in kind, playfully flirt with him, acknowledge their chemistry. But she couldn’t. No way. She had learned from her mistakes. That’s what the pink side represented, wasn’t it? She tugged at the hem of her shirt, reminding her of her position.

“Look, Jack, I’ve been burned before. It happened right in front of me, and I was too blind to realise until it was too late. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but I am not sacrificing my career again.”

Leaning forward, Jack slid a clipboard across the desk towards Prue. “Then I guess you don’t want to sign this…”

Prue took a hesitant step forward, scanning the contents of the page. “You… listed me as the sales agent for the Fujimoto sale?”

“It… was your deal, wasn’t it?” At his genuine look of confusion, Prue suppressed a smile.

“Thanks. For covering for me.” She reached for a pen and scribbled down her name where it belonged.

“Of course.” His cheery face dropped into a slight frown. “Prue, I’m sorry about whatever it was that happened to you before, but I assure you that won’t happen now. I want to learn from you, not steal from you.”

Prue sighed. “I’m sorry too. I’ve let it influence my opinion of you. I mean, you do definitely drive me crazy, but…” she shrugged. “I don’t know, I think you’re growing on me.”

Jack grinned. “I am, am I?”

Prue rolled her eyes. God, he frustrated her. But there was something about it that she craved so much. She definitely wasn’t ready to jump into a relationship with a coworker when she was still healing from Roger’s betrayal—not to mention she was still grieving Andy’s death. Even so, there was nothing wrong with having some fun… right? It’s not like one date would mean she’d have to marry him.

She opened her mouth, hesitating just a moment longer before speaking. “Yes. So I think I could tolerate having dinner with you. To say thanks.”

“Well,” he leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Will you be wearing that?”

This time, her smile was genuine. “Oh, I have stuff much better than this.”

“Ugh,” Jack cried in mock distress, raising his hands. “You’re killing me here!”