Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They met months before war was set to start. In some small bar, filled with people called in a draft to fight, sat two men who didn’t know each other yet. 

One smiled at the other, all white teeth and city energy as he introduced himself. Philza Craft, who had always wanted to join the guard and had shown enough promise for them to train him. He was an excellent fighter and, as it would turn out, an even better friend. 

The other man had introduced himself as Technoblade. A man from the furthest farms in the kingdom. Never formally taught how to fight, but the one who had to face the brunt of the hatred and fighting from the outskirts of the other cities. A young fighter that had blossomed into the greatest fighter the Empire has ever seen. 

That night, in a dingy bar surrounded by men antsy for an incoming war, men who thought having another drink would make them forget the fate of their empire, something started. A friendship that lived through loyalty and trust. 

They were raised on different ideals, but neither held the other to the way they were taught. Philza didn’t mind Technoblade’s silence, and Technoblade didn’t mind the way Philza talked. Technoblade let Philza talk to the higher-ups and Philza let Technoblade handle their rations. 

On one late night, with the two of them huddled in a tent not meant to hold two, they spoke quietly. 

“You can call me Phil. You don’t need to call me my full name all the time. All my friends call me Phil.”

Technoblade didn’t mention how none of the other soldiers called him Phil, instead responding, “Techno.”

Phil had smiled, repeating his name softly to the sky. “Nice to meet you,” he had laughed. 

Techno found himself chuckling along. 

Fighting started not long after. War had started months previously, when the first letter from Manberg arrived declaring it. Fighting, combat, had not started until now, with swords clashing and every man trying desperately to convince the other army to fall back. 

Techno had rushed them, pushing the beginning of the forces off easily with Phil at his side. The two of them had trained together forever, since that night they met, and now Phil was as efficient as Techno was, cutting down people with as much deadly precision as a man who had been fighting his entire life. 

A man went to strike Phil’s back and Techno was there, parrying it with a deadly look in his eye. He kicked the man back, easily running his sword through the man’s stomach as he stumbled back. 

Someone went for Techno’s back and Phil was there, blocking it harshly before using his speed to jump out of the way of the man’s next attack, stabbing the man in the leg and stabbing his neck through with his own sword. 

Manberg retreated. Blood caked the battlefield. It was the first fight of many. 

Battle plans were made, Techno the mastermind. Scouts found Manberg camps. They marched through the night to take one by ambush, they watched as the unprepared soldiers ran. Some weren’t even wearing pants as they disappeared into the dark forest around the clearing. 

The next fight was months later, when Techno and a handful of other men - and Phil, always with Phil - got moved closer to one of the Empire’s rivers. It was hopeful that they would find a camp and lead another successful ambush, but Manberg’s forces were prepared when they got there. 

The Antarctic Empire’s small battalion was forced to retreat, Techno ruthlessly cutting down five men before he followed his troops into the woods. Phil, with the blood of only one staining his clothing, smiled at him with his milk glass teeth. 

They got ambushed two weeks later. They were unprepared, but Techno slept with one eye open and a sword next to his bed. Phil, sleeping peacefully, only woke to the screams of the soldiers fighting for their life against Techno. 

Manberg retreated, too assured in their victory to allow more than a small group to go fight. Their ego blocked their vision and Techno saw error in their ways and set to not make the same error. He looked towards Phil, smiled and nodded at the man.

Phil nodded back, wiping the sleep from his eyes. 

A few nights later, a man was revealed to be a spy. Phil asked for trial, for definitive proof. The soldier, someone who scouted for them yet consistently came back with nothing choked on his own blood when Techno stabbed him through. Cold eyes stared at a dead traitor only to look up at Phil. Phil, who watched the man with sad eyes. 

That night, Phil asked, quietly, “did you need to kill that man?”

The answer was no. There wasn’t need to do anything. They could’ve cast that man out. They could’ve exiled him, could’ve imprisoned him. They could’ve sent him back to the capitol or to Manberg. Instead, blood was spilled. Techno was the one who caused that. 

Techno closed his eyes, he didn’t answer. He didn’t want to admit fault, even if both him and Phil knew it was his weight to carry. 

They didn’t speak of it again. War wasn’t made for reminiscing on the mistakes you made. 

There was a quietness now, at the end of each battle. There was a hesitant glance at Phil, his best friend, the closest thing he has to family. There is a guilt that settles deep in his gut as he notices the guilt in Phil’s eyes, the sorrow. 

He acts as a man who is no longer prepared for war, like a man who doesn’t want to fight any longer. 

Techno’s gut twists as blood flows through his lungs, singing of victory and valor. Honor earned. 

Another battle, with more fallen soldiers than soldiers slain. It was a victory for the Antarctic Empire, but only in the most literal definition of the word. Manberg retreated, but their loss was less than the Empire’s. 

A few weeks later, sighing tiredly, sitting on his bed roll, Phil asks, “are you tired of this war too, Techno? I feel as if it just started and already I’m older than I should be.”

Techno relishes in the fighting. He grew up with little more than a dying farm and the respect he earned as a fighter. He has to fight, he has to win. There is no other choice for him, as the opposite of war is peace and peace is such a foreign concept that he cannot begin to understand it. He doesn’t think he will ever understand it.

“War is tiring,” he responds, because even if it is not the war he is tired of, he can feel heaviness in his bones. An unease is born in the way he doesn’t know if he can trust his body to do the same things Phil does, to show the same mercy Phil does. 

Days begin to blur together, just a little. Every moment he spends with Phil he can remember in clarity, with a smile or a heavy guilt. Every moment alone feels the same, though. His fellow soldiers nod at him with respect and all he can think of is the village back where he’s from, of all the adults that watched as a kid joined the fighting out of necessity. 

More fights pass, they win them all. Manberg, apparently, has never trained their fighters properly. All of them are sloppy, with unsure stances or incorrect positions. They are weak in their attacks and their defense lacks the propriety needed to keep a nation safe.

Phil smiles at him one night, with kind eyes. Eyes that spoke of friendship, of a war that has lasted over a year. It’s coming to a close, Techno realizes. The war will be won eventually, soon if they keep up this winning streak. 

Phil will go back to the city and Techno back to a farm a few weeks away from the castle. Phil will work with the guard, as is his dream. Techno will… he doesn’t know. If they win this war, will there still be fights along the border? Will Techno begin to wander aimlessly, always looking for a fight like a broken man?

He wants that for Phil, doesn’t he? For Phil to go back to his home to live life as he was meant to? 

One quiet night, he asks, “Phil, what are you going to do once war ends?”

Phil laughs a little, more of a soft chuckle, “once the war ends? That thought feels so far away, even if it might be coming up soon. Huh, well… I’d like to own my own house. Even if it isn’t a house and turns out to just be, like, an apartment or something, I’d still like to be able to say I own my own place.”

There’s a pause. 

“I’d like to meet someone and settle down. I’ve always wanted kids, you know? One or two, running around and causing me worry.”

“They’ll age you more than the war does,” Techno jokes, Phil laughing. 

“What about you?” Phil asks. Techno knew this question would come and yet it still makes his heart pump a little harder. The answer is he doesn’t know. He needs an answer and he doesn’t know. 

“Maybe… run a fighting school.”

“Aw, mate. Always fighting, fighting, fighting. Do you ever want to retire?”

Techno laughs in lieu of answering. He can feel Phil’s gaze on him, heavy. Something like guilt, but so much worse, fills him. Something anticipatory but unwilling of the change it feels is coming. 

Techno is unwilling of the change he feels is coming. 

The final battle comes. The battle that will decide victory for the Antarctic Empire or will prolong the fighting more. The war has been nearly two years now, long enough for Techno to never want to leave Phil’s side but short enough for him to acknowledge that he will have to when this is all over. 

They get sent horses. A note, from the queen, reads of a new station for them. It mentions a battle that the queen says will determine if they win the war or not. They start traveling, keeping their slowest walkers on the horses as they move. 

One horse, moody and unwilling to let anyone ride him, stands out. He’s chestnut with white stockings and blaze, beautiful if not for such a vile personality. Techno is handed the responsibility of walking with the horse, as the others are too scared of getting kicked or getting run over by him. 

He names the horse Carl. He begins to toy with the idea of becoming a horse breeder, before Carl bites him. Techno doesn’t really want to raise horses, even if he would be happy with one or two of them. 

Phil smiles at him whenever he sees Techno with the horse. He jokes that Techno is fighting this war just to protect the horse and Techno says that Phil is just fighting this war so that he doesn’t have to become a shoe maker like his dad. They share a laugh and Techno feels something unfurl in his gut. 

When the final battle starts, the horse riders ride in first to cut down all that they can. So far, Manberg hasn’t had any horses and they're hoping they still won’t now. Luckily, pulling up to the battlefield, they don’t. Unluckily, they have managed to almost double their normal soldier number. 

Techno rides in on Carl, who is still moody and mean as can be. He cuts down at least twenty soldiers, watching them fall with emotionless eyes. He doesn’t care, he can’t care. This is war and this is what he has been doing since he was a child. 

Phil is one of the foot soldiers, unwilling to take a horse from some of the fighters who feel more comfortable sitting on top one. He runs in after the horses, killing those left. One almost stabs Phil in the back, but Techno bowls them down with Carl before they can even start the downward swing. 

“Watch your backs!” Techno yells, mostly to Phil. His soldier, the soldiers he has spent nearly two years with, still take his word to the heart as they become hypervigilant. Phil, from where he stands fighting on the ground, smiles back at Techno, some mirth in his eyes. 

Halfway through the fight, two men ambush Techno. They crowd around him, the two of them coming forward to take down Carl. A spike of fear strikes him. Something in him begs at the loss of Carl, that it would rather give up than have to fight if it meant losing Carl. 

He ignores it, striking out at one and missing. Phil rushes in, stabbing through the crowd with little success. One of the men nicks Carl, causing the horse to rear back. Techno falls, landing on one of Manberg’s soldiers. 

He watches, with wide eyes as Carl gets stabbed through the heart. 

He thinks he might be screaming, people normally scream when this happens, but… everything goes silent. His throat feels clogged and his eyes get locked in their wide, panicked shape as he scrambles up. 

Phil stabs a man. 

Someone pushes Techno from behind. 

Carl falls, all scared neighing and angry eyes. 

There’s a weight in Techno’s hand. There’s a weight in his heart, too, but you can’t stab someone with grief. You can shout and scream but Phil was always the talker and Techno was always the planner. 

Techno stabs one of the soldiers through the stomach, hearing them scream. It feels like a fire under his skin, like poison in his veins. It feels like justice, like vengeance. It feels like seeing a dull, rusted sword hidden in the bushes around your village. It feels like seeing the gleaming silver beneath. 

Another Manberg soldier goes down. Another and another, until the battle is guaranteed and Manberg soldiers are calling a surrender. Even then, Techno can see Carl’s body laid on the ground, in the same position he fell in. He isn’t breathing anymore. 

Techno falls to his knees, staring intently at his horse. His horse, because Carl couldn’t stand anyone else. His horse, because Carl had chosen him. 

A hand falls on his shoulder. He turns, the sun blazing above him, seeing Phil’s shadow and the shadow of something behind him. Something that moves, up and down, growing large and small at different moments. 

“Techno, mate?” Phil asks, and Techno assumes that shadow must be just some of the other surviving soldiers. 

“Phil-,” Techno chokes out, tears threatening to leak from his eyes. He blinks, looking down at the ground. 

There is blood there, but Techno would be surprised if he looked down and didn’t see any. The battle field had been filled with bloodshed. Techno’s clothes had been filled with bloodshed, with red liquid that felt horrid to the touch and yet so good, like victory. 

Techno breathes in. Phil smiles down at him. The shape behind him moves again, disappearing behind his back. Techno stands up and pulls Phil in for a hug, laying his hands against his back and feeling-

“Heh? Phil, you have wings!”

Phil turns around fully, as if expecting to see them. 

“No, no,” Techno says, putting a hand onto the wings. They puff up at the contact. 

Phil turns his head this time, his back towards Techno, and sees them. 

Large, sleek black feathers. Wings, undeniably. 

“Huh.”

Worthy, the wings scream. Chosen, worthy. 

Part of Techno screams that he’s worthy too, he was chosen too. Carl chose him, Phil chose him. He fought in this war, too. Does he not deserve wings? His back remains bare, though, and he knew that Phil was different from the beginning, didn’t he? 

He knew Phil, with his kind smiles and peaceful heart, was special. Phil had wanted the war to end, he wants to settle down and have kids, he wants to protect people. Techno stands behind Phil, staring into the man’s sky blue eyes, watching as the man ogles his wings with something akin to surprise. Phil, who has always been perfect. 

“Phil,” Techno starts, his voice dying halfway through. He doesn’t have any words, he isn’t sure there even are any words. 

Phil is special, Phil is worthy, and Techno is not. He has known he is not worthy since the beginning. He shouldn’t feel so hurt and yet his heart aches, begging for the universe to send him something too, for the universe to choose him too. That way, maybe, he could keep his friend. 

“Techno,” Phil breathes out, sounding utterly amazed. “They’re beautiful.”

They are, which might be the worst part. They seem to be crows wings, all black with a little bit of blue reflecting off of them. They’re large, huge enough Techno is sure Phil will be able to fly with them. They’re sickeningly beautiful when Techno doesn’t have his own to show off. 

“I think I know what you’re going to do after the war,” Techno says, tone aiming for light and joking but landing somewhere almost sorrowful. 

“What?” Phil asks. 

“You’re gonna fly.”

He looks amazed, like he hadn’t even yet thought of it. Too caught up in the sudden appearance of wings. “You think?”

Techno nods, not trusting himself to speak with the way emotions clog his throat up. He turns, looking away from Phil, and at the bloody field that surrounds him. 

“Am I going to have to tell the queen?” asks Phil, absentmindedly. 

Techno nods again, still staring resolutely away. 

The blood on the ground swallows the light of the sun, takes in the beams and denies them exit. Techno feels like Phil is the sun and he is the blood. Techno takes up Phil’s light, his shine, his beauty and grace and brilliance. He makes Phil look dull, makes Phil overlooked and misjudged. 

Now, though, Phil has enough proof of his worthiness that Techno is barely dirt beneath his heel. Now, people will know that of their duo, Phil was always the better. Phil was always the shining city boy and Techno the broken farm boy. 

“Hey, Phil,” Techno starts, looking back at the man. His eyes are glassy, he’s sure, but whenever he loses his friend - when, not if, because it is a certainty - he needs Phil to know he will be missed. “Remember me when you’re king.”

Phil shoves his shoulder, laughing light and airy. “Hush, mate. The queen won’t like some commoner like me. I mean, have you seen-.”

“Phil, really, I think you’re selling yourself short here.”

“What? Mate, really, I-.”

“You’re gonna steal her heart and-.”

“Like a thief! Techno, really, don’t be so-.”

“I’ll be left in the dust like some old farmer-.”

“I would never-.”

Techno laughs, and Phil does too. 

There is an unclear future and a burning guilt and anticipation mix churning in his gut but he looks at Phil, the man’s eyes closed as he laughs, and thinks that for now he can enjoy this. For now this is his and Phil is his friend and the world slots itself comfortably next to him, shoving him lightly as he jokes about how Phil is going to have three kids, all with dirty blond hair and blue eyes.

Chapter Text

The soldiers are to stay on the battlefields for weeks after the war finishes, at least a month and at most a year. They are to make sure that Manberg doesn’t come back, to be protected in case the surrender was a lie and Manberg wasn’t as done as they said they were. 

Phil has wings, though. Phil, perfect Phil, has a glorious pair of crow wings on his back and the queen, worthy as all the royals are, caught wind of this. She sent a letter, then two. Then, for a whole week, they had been corresponding. 

Late at night, while Techno pretended to sleep, he could hear Phil’s pen scratching against his paper. He could hear the spike in Phil’s breath as he tried to hold in a laugh. He could hear the way Phil paused in his writing, sighing and throwing the paper again, only to retry like a lovesick teenager. 

One night, only a few days after Phil started writing his letters at night, Techno cannot help the greed he feels and he opens one of the queen’s letters to Phil. 

‘ Phil, ’ it reads, with loopy, perfect handwriting. ‘ While the troops are stationed to stay in the fields for months longer, I cannot help but admit to yearn. Yearn to meet you sooner, to see those wings upon your back, to have you show your worthiness in my court. ’

Techno blinks, pretending again as if he doesn’t care as much as he does. Phil wouldn’t snoop like this, he thinks. Phil wouldn’t get jealous or sneak around or pray, silently and never aloud, for the downfall of the queen. 

‘ You are one of the soldiers, yes? I can only imagine how tiring the battlefield must be. It is true that I have fought before, but I am a family woman now. With a baby here, I must say that I haven’t felt the need to join the fight again. ’

He closes the letter. He puts it back where he found it, making sure it looks as untouched and untainted as it was before he put his dirty hands on it. This is wrong, Phil wouldn’t do this. Phil would smile and congratulate him. Phil would be happy Techno had wings, he wouldn’t be jealous and scornful and angry. 

That night, he closes his eyes tight and tries to drown out the sound of Phil’s pen with the sound of his own thoughts. 

They get moved a week later. Presumably, Phil had mentioned Techno in his letters and thus granted him the ability to be moved too. The two of them leave the soldiers camp, moving closer to the city and the castle. Phil gets a fancy tent and Techno gets a standard one. Phil insists they share a tent anyway, even if this one is clearly meant only for Phil. 

“Phil?” Techno asks that night, when Phil’s pen is already scribbling away and Techno, in turn, is supposed to be asleep. 

This must be said, though, because already Techno can feel Phil slipping through his fingers, disappearing away as the time moves forward. As much as their bond of trust, of loyalty and love, has strengthened there is still time, the ultimate ruin. 

“Sorry, mate, did the light wake you?” Phil asks softly, his voice always so caring. 

“No,” Techno responds, his voice sounding so gruff and brutish in comparison. There really is no wonder why Phil got wings, blessed by the universe. Phil deserves the world. “I, uh…”

He sits up, turning so he is facing Phil fully, his legs off the bed - which is strange, they never had actual beds during the war - and feet close enough to feel the cold of the tent floor. He steels himself for this, for whatever rejection might come. Phil, who might realize that Techno is not worth all this, who is unworthy and undeserving. 

“You know what? For you- for you, the world, Phil. Alright?”

Phil laughs a little and Techno feels his heart sink. Phil has to understand, he has to. This might be the only chance Techno has before he gets left behind, the only chance before none of what he says means anything. 

“Do you have an extra quill then, Techno?” Phil asks, mirth in his eyes and a smile on his lips. He thinks Techno is joking, maybe, or doesn’t realize the gravity of what Techno is promising. 

Something hot burns in Techno, something that wishes him to tell Phil what he means, to try and point it out further. Promise the universe, promise the winter snow and summer sun. Promise all his secrets and his knowledge and his loyalty until the day he dies. Promise loyalty like a dog, following him to the ends of the earth and further still.

In a way, he has already guaranteed all that to Phil. He grew up by the skin of his teeth, a sword in hand and nothing but burning determination fueling him. Phil hadn’t thawed him, hadn’t saved him from nightmares and phantom blood on his skin but Phil had given him kindness. Phil hadn’t asked him to carry a sword, and had wanted Techno to retire. He had protected his back and his front and had tried to defend his horse, too. 

So, Techno smiles, the promises dying on his tongue as he responds, “pluck out one of your feathers if you want a quill, Phil.” He laughs, to make sure Phil knows that he is joking. Phil laughs too, glaring playfully at him. 

Techno reaches below his bed once the laughter dies down, pulling out a small box full of quills. There is one thing in here that is not a quill but a pen, made of fancy iron. The wood on it is polished, clean and easy to hold. It is crafted by some blacksmith on the outskirts, stolen by Techno many years ago, when he was just a boy. 

“For you, Phil,” Techno says, holding the pen out. Another promise, a memory that he hopes Phil will never forget. A last good day, because there is always a downfall and if today is to be the start of the end then it will follow Techno’s wants and Techno’s dreams. 

Phil’s eyes go a little unseeing, staring at the pen, at the way the lantern light shines against it. He twists it, holding it reverently. He makes this noise, deep in his throat. Something like a bird would make, before shoving the quill into a box of items. His important items box, which he always made sure was near him and safe. 

Techno smiled, turning to lay back in bed, the knowledge that he had given something to Phil enough for him. 

Three days later, Techno is coming back into the tent, two plates of food in his arms. One for him and one for Phil, as they’ve made it a habit to have lunch together whenever they can. Whenever they can turned into everyday since they aren’t actively at war. 

There’s a woman in the room, sitting next to Phil on the man’s bed. She’s gorgeous, even if Techno feels no attraction. She’s got dark brown hair, deep brown eyes, and a beautiful smile on her face when Techno walks in. 

She is wearing a purple dress, one that goes down to her feet, and this black mesh shawl on her arms, going down so far it touches the ground. Something shifts on her back, wings revealing themselves on her back. Large ones, larger than Phil’s, golden and shimmering. 

This is the queen, Techno thinks distantly, at the happiness in both of their eyes. Then, they look at Techno and a sort of bashfulness takes over Phil’s face. The queen looks a little as happy and kind at his presence in the tent. 

“Uh,” Techno starts, eloquent as always. “I’ll just… go get another plate.”

He puts the plates down on the desk and hurries out of the room. He doesn’t intend to go back with another plate of food, he has no intentions of eating at all. His appetite has been thoroughly shot and killed. 

When the sun starts to set, Techno enters the tent again. Phil is alone this time, writing away on his parchment paper. Another letter to the queen, no doubt. 

“Hey, mate,” Phil says a few minutes after Techno has entered. “I didn’t hear you come back in. That was the queen. Earlier today, that is.”

Techno nods, trying to pick the right thing to say. “She seems nice.”

This opens the floor for Phil to start gushing about the queen. Kristin is her name, and she recently found a winged baby named Wilbur. She’s a mother now, she said, and she would really appreciate it if Phil came to the castle with her to stay with them. 

“I can’t go just yet, though,” Phil says, some sort of weariness in his voice. 

“Why not?” Techno forces himself to ask, silently happy for Phil’s staying while also being resentful of the way he feels. Phil and the queen would be a good match. Kind rulers not afraid to take up the sword for their people, the family that Phil admitted to wanting. 

“The war’s finished but it isn’t over yet. What if we get attacked? Our army would be missing one of its best fighters.” Phil laughs a little, always humble about his abilities. 

There’s silence that follows. It is, a little bit, a fair argument. At the same time, it is the worst argument that Techno has ever heard. Phil, being selfless and kind and deserving of wings on his back. Techno, who is ready to be the devil on Phil’s shoulder. 

“Phil,” he starts, sounding more serious than he intends to. “Phil, I think you should go with the queen to the castle.”

Phil looks only a little taken aback by this statement. “But-.”

“You want a family, don’t you? Maybe they’re your family. Why don’t you…” He can’t finish the sentence, can’t face the reality that he’s practically sending his only send away. He can be selfish, he is selfish. Not for Phil, though. The planets will always bend for the sun it orbits. 

“I could never leave you behind, mate.” Phil has this sappy smile on his face, kind and unrelenting. 

Quietly, despite knowing deep in his bones that this is his only chance to keep Phil, he says, “then take me with you.”

Phil is already lost, after all. Phil already has the wings on his back and a kindness rooted in his soul. He is already the sun and the stars and the universe. He is the breeze and the grass and the future king of the Antarctic Empire. 

Phil looks like he has tears in his eyes and he makes this noise, another bird noise. 

Two days later, Phil wakes Techno up with a shake and he happily exclaims, “come on, pack. We’re going to the castle today.”

Techno takes it as well as he can, packing without hesitation and returning every smile that is sent his way. Phil chatters away about what he thinks the castle looks like, is appalled when Techno mentions that he’s never even seen the castle before, and then uses half the trip to the castle talking about said castle. The other half he spends worrying about what Wilbur and Kristin will think of him. 

“They’ll love you,” Techno says. 

“How do you know? What if I make a fool of myself? Or say something rude?”

“Phil, calm down. They’re going to love you.”

I love you, he doesn’t say, because he cannot ruin this for Phil. He won’t ruin this for Phil, this golden, shining opportunity. A family, full of wings and chirping and- oh, god, do they eat bird seed at the castle? Are they gonna serve Techno bird seed?

The castle they arrive at is massive, somehow looking even more gorgeous than Phil described. It looks like something out of Techno’s imagination, towering over him with more balconies than he can even count. It has intricate designs and, even if it is rather bland with its color palette, the flags of the empire make it stand out. 

Phil’s wings ruffle up before flattening again. 

The carriage they’re in rides through the gates and stops right at the front steps. There are many steps, enough to wind even them, the top soldiers of the empire. A defense mechanism, Techno thinks, but Phil laughs when he says it. 

They step inside to light blue carpet over polished wooden floor. Cold, but that’s to be expected, and yet homey in a way that Techno has never seen before. Warm with evidence that someone actually lives in, a direct contrast to the show home Techno had been expecting to see. 

The queen is sitting at a dining table with no food set out, a high chair set up next to her with a baby that looks strikingly similar to her. Not biological, Techno is forced to remind himself, seeing the brown with white speckled wings on the baby’s back. 

Phil looks instantly enamored, smiling at the sight of them and dropping his bags at the door so that he can sit at the table with them. Techno lingers by the door and catches the hard look of the queen while Phil coos over Wilbur. 

“Guards, why don’t you show Phil’s friend to his room?” the queen asks, harsh words caked with a false softness. Phil doesn’t seem to notice her words nor their departure, too busy making actual, bird cooing noises at Wilbur, who responds with his own baby version. 

Techno nods at her, dipping his head low enough to constitute a small bow and leaving with the guards who grab Phil’s bags with them. One last glance back reveals this look on Kristin's face, directed towards Phil. A darkness, a love that is all consuming. 

Phil may regard Techno as his best friend now, but Techno is sure that their last true moments of friendship were a confession in the late hours of night. 

Late that night - because Techno does not go to dinner that he knows the royal family, which Phil is in now, will want to be eating alone - Phil sneaks into his room. 

“Techno?” he asks in the dark. “Are you awake?”

“Phil?”

“Techno, they’re… they’re amazing.”

Techno blinks and hopes it’s dark enough that Phil can’t see the tears starting to gather in his eyes. Phil talks about how Kristin is such a delightful conversation partner and about how Wilbur is so cute and absolutely adores him. Techno swallows his sadness, swallows the betrayal that infests his heart, and smiles with all his might at Phil. 

“I’m glad, Phil,” Techno says, with such genuineness he’s sure that it could be believable no matter who he was saying it to. “The world, Phil.”

“Aw, Techno.”

They hug, and Phil makes this odd chirping sound. He stays the night, the two of them sleeping next to each other as if they were at war, struggling for warmth on a cold night. 

In the morning, Phil drags Techno to eat breakfast with them all. 

“This is my best friend,” Phil says to the queen. “We met at a tavern before the fighting started.”

“A tavern?” the queen asks. 

“Not drinking, neither of us. Two sober men surrounded by drunks.”

Phil nudges Techno with his shoulder. 

“A city boy,” Techno says, teasing because this is a joke they have made many times before.

“A country kid.”

“Hardly a fighter.”

“Worst crops you’ll ever taste.”

“A shoemaker.”

“A farmer.”

Phil laughs, and Techno chuckles along with him. The queen is looking at Phil adoringly and Wilbur, even small and young, seems to be glaring at Techno. Young and feisty, which Techno respects a little bit.

“You two seem close,” the queen says. 

“Best friends,” Phil says, looking at Techno with such kindness in his eyes. 

So much kindness that Techno forgets about the queen’s black hole gaze and says, “the world, Phil.”

“Hmm,” the queen hums, a sharp look in her eyes as she regards Techno now. “The world.”

Techno eats quickly after that, finishing before Phil is even halfway through his plate. He doesn’t particularly want to speak to the queen, feeling judged and oddly weak in her presence. Phil might be falling in love with her, might already be in love with her, but Techno gets this unfamiliar itch under his skin that screams danger. 

Techno goes out to the soldiers fields instead, watches guard fights and gives pointers. They invite him to duel and he does, beating them easily. 

“How did you get so good?” asks one, a young man with short brown hair and wide eyes. 

“The war,” Techno states easily.

“The one that just ended?”

“No, the other war, Schlatt,” another soldier says, smacking Schlatt on the back. 

Schlatt glares at the boy, mumbling something underneath his breath and then smirking when the man asks what he said. 

After lunch, which Techno eats with some of the older guards, he finds himself called out by the queen. He meets her in a room with a small desk, a comfortable looking chair on one side and a basic one on the other. Techno isn’t surprised when the queen takes the comfortable one. 

“I hear your name is Technoblade,” she starts. 

“That it is, my queen.”

“Phil thinks very highly of you. He says you’re a good fighter and I saw that today, when the guards were training.”

There is a moment of silence Techno is sure he is supposed to fill so he says, “I taught Phil everything he knows.” Then, he amends it, “everything that’ll help him actually win a fight.”

The queen hums again, and her eyes don’t soften but her lips turn up into a small smile.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Evening rolls around and again Phil comes into his room to sleep. 

“I barely saw you today,” Phil laments. “Where did you go?”

“I was teaching the guards better moves.”

Phil laughs. “Of course. The first steps to owning a fighting school.”

“We all must have a beginning.” Phil laughs again. 

“Have dinner with us tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

He has dinner with them the next day, and Phil smiles at him and makes this chirping noise that has the queen’s head snapping up. There’s a shine in his eyes, something has changed since they came to the castle. Something in Phil has changed, even if the man hasn’t realized it yet. 

Techno leaves quickly again, this time not even finishing the food on his plate before he gets up to leave. Phil looks at him, but doesn’t seem to finish registering his departure when Wilbur starts chirping, loudly and in rapid succession. 

That night, Phil tells him about Wilbur. How he likes carrots in the morning but despises them at night. How he has this face he makes every time he’s about to cry, like he’s constipated. How Phil loves him wholeheartedly.

The next day goes much the same, with Techno hiding himself away with the guards training in the field. He eats with them and they prove to be good company. At night, Phil pouts but he doesn’t invite him to eat with them the next day.

This pattern continues for a while, with only some days having a short, awkward lunch together and a stunted conversation with the queen about her proposal. A proposal he can’t even consider. 

A week into his stay, he has barely seen Phil, he discovers the library. Vast reading material, more than he has ever seen in his life. 

He has never been the strongest reader. It was his favorite pastime, yes, but he didn’t have books growing up and he never had much down time until the war ended. Now, he has access to the largest library, probably in the entire empire, and he will not let this opportunity go to waste. 

He reads The Art of War, he reads Frankenstein. He reads romance novels and fantasies, witches and dragons next to lessons on the human body and philosophy. Part of him mellows out, reading calming a raging storm he didn’t realize he had in him. 

At one point, he sees Phil in passing. They cross paths in the hallway, and Techno attempts to say something but Phil apologizes quickly and moves on, walking down the hallway quickly. Techno stares at the man’s retreating back and thinks that maybe, maybe if he had put in more of an effort. 

A month passes. Sometime in the middle of it, Phil stopped sleeping in his room at night. Sometime after that, Techno stopped seeing him altogether. The change isn’t gradual, it’s as jarring as getting run over by a horse. Yet still, Techno pretends it doesn’t happen and he stays in the castle, reading and reading until the truth is undeniable. 

Reading until he loses Phil, and all of his goodness, to the queen and a baby. To a family. To the family Phil has always wanted. 

He passes by the dining hall. It’s, maybe, one last cry for attention. It’s, maybe, a goodbye to Phil. 

“Hey,” he says when he pokes his head in. Phil turns to him but there’s the unseeing eyes again, and a small clipped sound leaves his mouth. Ah , Techno realizes, with striking clarity. Birdbrain. Wings, birds. Birdbrain. 

A birdbrain that Techno doesn’t have, not with a bare back and a selfishness that has never truly left. He does not have wings, and thus he does not have a place in the castle with Phil, perfect Phil, and who will eventually be his wife, the queen, and their baby. 

He doesn’t smile, he can’t, but he nods and leaves with a soft goodbye. 

That evening, he packs his stuff up. He says a goodnight to the guards that are still at the castle and ignores the weird looks they give him. He goes to wear the queen always in the late evenings, at her office. 

“Hello,” he starts. “I’ll take you up on your proposal.”

He gets a plot of land on the furthest outskirts of the kingdom. He gets a month of food and a broken down house. He gets a map of the surrounding area and a tight smile, a pat on the back from Schlatt. 

“I don’t know why you would want to do this, man,” Schlatt says, staring at the house with disgust. 

“I used to be a farmer,” Techno says, lying through his teeth. His parents were farmers, and Techno was far from it. 

“Ah, well, good luck. You’ll need it with all,” he gestures to the house, “this.”

He leaves eventually though, gone before the sun starts to set.

The silence sets in quickly, but Techno’s own emotions set in faster. 

He is mad at first, thinking if he’d done more or if Phil actually cared or- or-

He tears down the house, he pulls apart all the planks and leaves nothing but the rotting foundation. By the time he finishes and is exhausted of all his angry energy, there is no house to spend the night in and the cold is eating at his skin. 

He sleeps in a particularly large tree with large, flat branches. It isn’t comfortable and he wakes with a crick in his neck but it’s better than freezing to death in an empty field. It’s his own fault anyway. 

The anger lowers to a shimmer after that, but it’s still present. He’s angry at himself some days, angry at the world on others, and angry at his world sometimes. There is never a correct person to be angry at, and his loyalty was nothing but a paper house, a strawman. 

He rebuilds part of the house, a small part. Enough to sleep in, but definitely not enough to live in forever. He mines for rocks, makes a fireplace for the colder nights. He goes into town at one point, gets overwhelmed with the people and the sounds and the animals. He sees a horse, and he flees faster than he’s ever fled a place. 

A week later, with a mildly functioning house and a bunch of farmland but nothing to plant, he goes back into town. He’s more prepared this time, and he buys three sheep and the horse. He brings them home but, lacking an actual place to put them, he allows them into his barebones house. 

The next week is spent building places for animals. A sheep pen, a horse stable, a chicken coop. 

He has enough money from his army days to buy two cows and four chickens. He buys some potato seeds and a bunch of wheat seeds. He buys a proper hoe and a watering can. 

One morning, a month into his farm - there is no correspondence from Phil, he isn’t even sure if the queen told him Techno left - he discovers some crows picking at his just sprouting seeds. 

“Aye!” he yells at them, running at them. They fly off and back into the trees. Techno has no doubt they will come back. He spends all of that night making a scarecrow, stuffing it with some wool from his sheeps. 

He ties a cloth around the scarecrow, making sure it’s loose enough to flow in the wind. He makes a plan of where to move it in a few days, so the crows don’t catch onto his little scheme. 

The sight of the crows remind him of Phil and instead of anger, which he knows, which he is used to, he gets filled with this deep sadness. A sorrow, a loss. If he had just done more. If he has just tried harder or didn’t suggest it or-

He brings wool to sell at the village and buys a book with the few coins someone buys it for. 

Techno builds a bookshelf, a small one, and places it into his slowly expanding house. 

A few months pass. His horse, still unnamed, gets unofficially called Carl. He uses a lot of energy on training the horse rather than the memory of the one he lost, but he swallows and sucks it up and Carl becomes his new best friend. 

He buys strawberry seeds and discovers that the crows will attack that plant regardless if a fake man is there. They also don’t care if a real man is there, Techno having had crows land right next to him to eat out the seeds that he just planted. 

He puts a mesh frame around them to keep the crows away. 

It rains, and Techno learns that his simple roof won’t do as well as he thought it would. 

A year passes. He has gone through one potato harvest and has discovered that he can probably fit two harvests a year, three of the wheat, if he tries really hard. The potatoes earn him more at the village and he discovers that he is woefully unprepared to grow wheat. 

He becomes a potato farmer. He builds a separate room for his bed, a second fireplace too. He gets another horse and becomes friends with some of the foxes in the forest near his house. The crows don’t lay off, but moving the scarecrow becomes one of the more fun activities that Techno does. 

He survives winter. 

Two years have passed. He has an upstairs, where he keeps his bed and his valuables. The room his bedroom used to be is filled with chests and bookshelves. The foxes have a pen on his farm, he has enough cows to switch which field he plants crops on, letting the cows help the other one recover over the year. 

There is no word from Phil and Techno tries not to be hurt by it. They were friends, they were the best of friends. Yet here Techno is, in a field of crops with nothing but passing conversations with the villagers and where is Phil? With his family in the castle. 

It doesn’t work, but Techno has been ignoring his emotions valiantly since he was a kid and he pretends he isn’t hurt. 

Three years pass, then four, then five. 

He has a pretty good amount of sheep, enough to make all the clothes he could ever want and sell the extra. He has two horses, one his beloved Carl and the other a lesser, meaner Carl. He sells some of his cows sometimes, afraid of getting too many and being unable to take care of them. 

One day, six years after he started his farm, he has pushed Phil far out of his memory. He goes into the village, bringing two sacks of potatoes to sell. There’s a few posters around the village. Techno doesn’t bother to check the first few, thinking it’s just a lost pig or something. 

There’s one near where he normally sets up his potato stand and, after waiting an hour, curiosity gets the better of him. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel like selling potatoes anymore. He doesn’t feel like being in the village or anything. 

He doesn’t feel like doing anything because King Phil and Queen Kristin have recently found a new child, blond with golden wings, just like the queen. A miracle, the poster says, to have two winged children within the same decade. To have three new wings in the royal family. 

Techno packs his stuff up just before lunch, claiming headache when one of the villagers asks.

He cries that night, sniffling his way through the moonlit flames. When morning comes, he closes his eyes and forgives Phil. He is happy for Phil, he is. His universe and his world. 

Slowly, over the next three years, he comes to terms with himself. 

He and Phil were friends, yes, but Techno is his own person too. He is a man within his own right. He loves Phil, yes, but he is his own person. He does not need to hinge his entire view of himself onto Phil, because the man was only human. Chosen by the gods, yes, but his quills still needed to be replaced and he still fought in a war like the rest of them. 

Phil is not an angel, Techno is not the devil. 

Techno is not some true evil. He is a man, different from Phil yes, but still just a man. He is not evil. He is not bad. A young soldier, through no fault of his own, a fighter till the very end, but not evil. Not mean and selfish and bad. 

One morning, a whole decade since he left the castle, he wakes up late. He’s tired, wiping his eyes and groaning at the bright sun. His first thought is I need to check on the strawberries. His second is what is on my back?

Chapter Text

There’s an adjustment period to everything. 

For the war, it was nothing more than the second it took for Techno to register the announcement. For the victory, it was all the time it took for him to read the letter. For Phil’s wings, it was sleepless nights and long days. For the farm, it was a decade. 

For wings of his own…

Yet again, the pair fluffed up and hit the doorframe he was going through. He huffed aloud, cursing silently in his head. He didn’t bother to close the door behind him when he noticed how his wings hung out of the door, him being unable to figure out how to rein them in. How did Phil- no.

Techno looked into the mirror of his bathroom. He had bags under his eyes and, something his mind understood and yet was bewildered by, huge wings on his back. They were sleek and sharp. The edges of the feathers, contrary to what Phil’s had been, were more edged and definitely looked like they’d hurt to get cut by. 

They were pink, going from a dark, almost red at the base to a light, dusty pink at the edges. They were beautiful, colorful and bright in a way that Technoblade had never been. Visible, imposing. They were like the sun rising. They were like fighting for a guaranteed win.

Techno blinked. He squinted at himself in the mirror, tilted his head for nothing more than dramatics and let out a breath. 

“Heh?!” 

He had- he had pink hair. Similar to his wings, but a constant pink all the way through. Not even a nice ombre, no. Just solid pink. His wings, maybe, could fit underneath a cloak or a particularly large jacket but this? Pink hair? 

Phil’s hair didn’t change color when he got wings, so why does Techno get the whole universe deal? Why is Techno the only one who- he lets out another breath, this one harsher than the last. 

It doesn’t matter why he’s got pink hair. He doesn’t need to leave his house anytime soon, not for another month if he really pushes it. Techno shivers, his wings spasming and hitting the cramped bathroom walls around him. 

Oh, god, he’s going to have to expand his house, isn’t he?

Despite how his wings ached from continuously hitting the walls and door frame, Techno stayed in the bathroom far longer than he needed to, just breathing. Eventually, he pushed himself off from gripping the counter to stand. Strawberries. He had strawberries to check. 

There had never, even since the beginning of his farm, been any visitors to his farm. He assumes the village people realized he likes his solitude and his space, but it could’ve as easily been anything else. Regardless, he still puts a cloak on.

It’s late october, the chill settling in but still not fully there. Not enough time has passed for the strawberries to ripen, but enough that he has to watch out for the crows that come to try and eat them through the wire. 

Today there are no crows, just some weeding and watering. He checks on his fields of potatoes, glad to see they’re doing well enough to survive till harvest. The animals are all well, the cows grazing at their normal schedule and the sheep joining them. The horses are chilling in their small pasture, happy by themselves. 

By the time he has finished checking on everything, the sun is only just starting to set. The rest of the day is spent reading, Techno laid on his stomach so that his wings don’t get squished under him. 

The following days follow much the same schedule, with some small detours, like riding the nicer Carl for a few hours, or shearing the sheep one that time before the cold settles in fully. By the time the month finishes up, his farm has been harvested one last time and the only way he’ll get through all the extra potatoes is if he only eats them over the winter. 

Still, he prolongs his trip to town for a few days. Part of him hopes it’ll snow and he can’t go to the village at all, even if he knows he needs to sell these potatoes eventually. 

While he’s procrastinating leaving for the village, something odd happens. There’s a knock on his door, sometime before the sun sets yet late enough for the sky to be colored in a soft orange. 

He pulls his cloak over his shoulders before going to the door. He’s gotten better control of his wings. He has yet to figure out how to fly but he knows how to pull them close to his body and keep them there. His cloaks have become much more effective at hiding away his wings when it isn’t obvious something is wriggling beneath it. 

Techno opens up the door, seeing one of the villagers there. 

“Hey,” says the villager. His name is Squid, something strange and yet Techno has never asked him about it. “You haven’t been at the village in a while.” He looks almost sheepish at the door, shrugging at his own words. 

“Uh, yeah, I-.”

Before Techno can even finish his sentence, Squid asks, “did you dye your hair?” Thinking it a more logical explanation than the truth, Techno agrees with his assumption. “Oh, dude! Are you just embarrassed to show us cause…”

Squid gestures to his own hair, which is a deep blue. It’s something straight off the color wheel, with no consideration for hue and brightness. Next to Techno’s bright pink, it looks almost dull. 

“Yeah,” Techno agrees, speaking slowly. He hopes Squid doesn’t catch his hesitance and, for once, the universe is on his side, because Squid barrels right through. 

“Well, no need. I will say this once, and only once, Technoblade,” he says his name oddly seriously. “The potato competition isn’t much fun without my greatest rival there to fight.”

Techno smirks, falling into the repeated conversation easily. “Aw, admitting I’m the better potato farmer?”

“What?!” Squid sputters. “That’s not what I said at all!” He huffs. “See if I ever give you a compliment again!”

“I’ll just go tomorrow to the village to sell all my potatoes then. I’m sure your regulars want some actual vegetables to eat.”

“I give them perfectly respectable potatoes! I’d even go so far as to say that your potatoes are the bad ones! And that I’m the one stealing your customers because you’re gone all the time so- so- HA!”

Squid turns on his heel, marching away in anger. Techno laughs from behind him, mocking but genuine all the same. 

“See you tomorrow, loser!” Techno calls out to Squid’s retreating back, only getting the middle finger in return. 

True to his word, he goes into town the next day. He does it partially to keep any other villagers from showing up on his doorstep and partially because he… admittedly, he misses the noise of the village sometimes. 

He sells the majority of his potatoes and laughs at Squid when the man still has a full stand. Squid only huffs in return, mumbling something under his breath that Techno is sure was very creative. Techno only smirks at the man. 

Once winter sets in, Techno gets to work making the last of his wool into the warmest clothes he has. He adds fluff to his cloak hood and makes some odd looking clothing items to keep the base of his wings warm. 

While his whole wing gets cold, the base tends to be the part that regulates the temperature for the rest of the feathers. With it warm, the wings feel at least a little better. 

He starts using his cloak as a second blanket when he realizes that he himself gets much colder than he used to. Techno starts keeping the fire on during the night, adding some extra stones around it so that nothing happens during the night. 

About a week after it starts snowing, there’s another knock on Techno’s door. It’s early in the morning when it happens this time, and Techno assumes that it’s Squid again. He has a smirk on his lips as he pulls on his cloak, ready to taunt about potato sales as he turns the knob. 

“Come to see my- oh.”

The person at the door isn’t Squid. The person at the door is so far from Squid that Techno closes the door - slams it being a more accurate term - right on the person’s face. He takes a second to recalibrate. A second knock sounds in the time he takes, the person as patient as ever. 

Techno opens the door again after the knocking pauses.

Phil stands at the door, looking nearly the same as the last time Techno saw him. Minus some new wrinkles, a show of his fatherhood, the man still has his straw blond hair and bright blue eyes. His wings, his gorgeous wings, look exactly the same. Still dark and captivating and beautiful. 

Techno has spent a decade away from Phil though. He has spent nights battling his own guilt and his anger. His self deprecation and his overconfidence. Memories of his youth and doubt about the future. Everything under the sun and over the moon. 

“Hello, mate,” Phil says, smiling and tilting his head in a friendly gesture. He adds this chirp to the end of his greeting. There is no recognition in his words, though, which makes a little bit of sense. 

Last Phil had seen him, Techno had short brown hair and eyes that could cut deeper than any blade. Now, he had long, bright pink hair, comfy pajama clothing on, and a whole farm to prove his retirement. His swords aren’t even visible, hidden in a shoddily made box beneath his bed. 

“Hullo,” Techno says in return, reminding himself forcefully that it doesn’t really matter if Phil recognizes him or not, Techno doesn’t want him there anyway. He has a farm and animals and some of the villagers are his friends. He is a newly formed star and Phil, the previous sun, doesn’t yet know of his light. 

“I should introduce myself,” Phil says, beaming. 

“Oh, please don-.”

“I am King Philza of the Antarctic Empire. You are?”

Techno doesn’t even bow, even if it is technically the proper response to meeting the king. Phil was his friend in the beginning, was nothing more than a fellow soldier. Techno does not bow to his equals, even if he would’ve bowed a thousand times over for Phil during their time in the war. 

“Tired.”

Techno gives a tight nod, getting ready to close the door again. Phil put his foot in the door quickly, blocking it from closing. 

“Could I come in? I’ve traveled a long time to get here, and it is awfully cold.”

Techno sighs heavily, just barely holding back the need to roll his eyes. As sarcastically as he can, he opens the door again and says, “please, do come in, King Philza of the Antarctic Empire.”

Something flashes in Phil’s eyes, dark and dangerous. It’s there and gone in less than the blink of an eye, but Phil’s presence here has sent alarm bells ringing through Techno’s head enough that he spots it. 

“You don’t seem to have much respect for the crown,” the man points out as he steps into the home. It’s a careful comment and Techno can feel the dangerous power behind it. Anger, carefully concealed behind a kind smile. 

“I haven’t had great experiences so far with the crown,” Techno chooses to reply. He hopes Phil takes it as it is, a story untold. Unfortunately, the man doesn’t seem to take the hint. Being king must’ve gotten to his head, at least a little bit. 

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Phil sits down on the couch, which all blankets have already been removed from and added to Techno’s bed. They were used to form, and part of Techno still refuses to believe it, a makeshift nest. Like a bird. Like an actual bird. 

“Just childhood difficulties.”

“Ah. Surely before Kristin’s reign then. She is working to fix the problems formed by previous rulers.”

Techno looks away, setting his jaw for a moment while Phil rubs his hand together near the fire. A little squeaky, he hums something that falls just short of an agreement. Then, he clears his throat to ask, “want some coffee?”

“Aw, mate, do you have tea?”

Techno nods from behind Phil, walking into the kitchen with near silent steps. The coffee and tea take some time to make, but still they seem to be done way too early. Techno toys with the idea of running away now, hopping out of the window and making a mad dash for the woods. Phil can fly though, and that travel is significantly faster than any running Techno will ever be able to do. 

He will hear Phil out. He will allow the man to talk and then he will kick the man out. King or not, he is not welcome in Techno’s home. Not without some sort of excessive groveling for forgiveness after a decade of silence. Even with that, there was no way Techno would be going anywhere with Phil. 

Techno walks back into the living room with two mugs, one of tea and one of coffee. He hands the tea to Phil and then sits on the complete opposite side of the coach than him. Phil makes this chirping sound again, looking expectantly at Techno and then looking confused for a moment when nothing happens. 

“You never introduced yourself,” Phil starts. 

“I’m… Ssssquid Kid.”

“Squid Kid?” Phil asks, looking very confused for a second. “Are you a kid?”

Techno remembers asking Squid the very same thing, though he was more mocking than genuinely confused when he asked. “No, that’s just my last name.”

“Oh,” Phil sounded a little disappointed at this news, and Techno’s alarms were going batshit again. “You’ve got a very nice farm here. What are the horses' names?”

“Carl. I’m going to go use the restroom.” 

He stands, setting his mug of coffee on the table in front of him. He gives Phil a short nod before leaving, nothing more than an acknowledgment. He walks past his bathroom though, going straight to his room and pulling out his sword box. He doesn’t know how this conversation will end but he doesn’t trust that it’ll end diplomatically. 

When he finishes, he leaves the room again. He sits at the same place on the couch and Phil takes this as a sign to keep questioning him. Frankly, Techno doesn’t want to be questioned. It’s clear that Phil does not plan on leaving anytime soon, which means Techno needs to figure out how to get him to leave. 

“Did you grow up here?” Phil asks, smiling politely before taking a sip of his tea. 

“Nope. Why are you here?”

Phil looked taken aback for a second. He smirks. “I’m sure you know the answer to that.”

“Phil,” Techno starts, waiting until the man finishes sipping his tea before finishing his sentence. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Immediately, Phil’s head snaps up to look at him. There’s a dark possessiveness in his eyes that lingers far longer than it should. “What?”

Slowly, Techno repeats, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re-.”

Phil makes this low crooning sound, sounding disappointed. Techno has dealt with the strawberry eating crows enough to hear that sound nearly daily. He almost wants to laugh at the way Phil seems surprised when Techno doesn’t make any baby chirping noises back. 

“I’m not actually Squid Kid, Phil.” Techno stands, putting his mug in the kitchen sink and standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room before continuing. “I’m Technoblade.”

Phil goes rigid. He sits completely still. Even his wings stop moving. He looks like a statue, sitting on Techno’s couch with a cup of tea in his hands. Techno doesn’t say anything to ruin the moment, letting the man process the words. 

Slowly, Phil puts the cup down on the table and turns to look at Techno. Pink hair, pajama clothes, a farmhouse that he crafted with his own two hands, and a retirement that settles something in his chest firmly. 

“Techno?” Phil asks, sounding impossibly small. For a second, Techno thinks this will lead to the aforementioned groveling but instead, Phil gets this relieved look on his face. “Techno! You have wings!”

“Yeah,” Techno says hesitantly. 

“This is amazing! Are they pink like your hair? You should really take off that cloak and,” Phil kept rambling, asking questions. He stood from the couch, walking closer with arms outstretched. He looked like he was gettin ready to take the cloak off of Techno forcefully. “I’m sure they’re beautiful and-.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Phil,” Techno repeated, because it seemed as if Phil needed the reminder. “Nowhere. I’m not leaving this farm.”

Phil pauses in his tracks. “But,” he starts, confused, “you have wings! You’re family!”

“No, Phil.” There’s a hurt now, deep and scabbed over, that has reopened. It bleeds sluggishly, infecting Techno with his old anger again. “No, Phil. I’m not family and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh,” Phil breathes out. Then, he squares his shoulders and sets his jaw. “Well, then…”

Phil’s wings spread wide and Techno resists the urge to spread his own wings in response. Phil lunges forward, arms reaching for Techno. 

Techno dodges right, stumble-running his way into his room and grabbing his sword. He hates that his hunch was right, hates the way that he can see the queen’s deadly actions in the way Phil turns the corner in a hurt, clawed fingers ready to grab Techno. 

“Phil,” Techno warns. He is out of fighting practice, sure. He hasn’t fought in a decade, sure. Yet he is confident in his abilities. Since he was young, since he was a babe, since he fought in a war, since he lost his world and since he realized he was the world. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Techno, you have wings now.” Phil’s voice is now overlaid with a series of clicks and whistles, classic bird sounds that Techno has no trouble ignoring. “You’re a part of the family.”

“If you kidnap me, Phil, I’ll never be a part of your family. Leave me and my farm here.”

Techno goes to take a step to the side, but Phil lunges before he can. He ducks down, avoiding Phil’s body narrowly. Something crashes behind him and his feet move before his mind does, carrying him down the hall in a hurry. 

He gets tackled down to the floor before he can make it to the door, to the beautiful outside. Claws dig into his shoulders. Techno yells, struggling back. His wings beat back against his will, but Phil is sitting on them, the wings aching with uncomfort. 

“Get off me!” Techno yells, grunting when Phil pushes him further into the ground. Techno struggles some more, eventually managing to spin himself around, throwing Phil off of him. 

He swings the sword blindly towards Phil, the sword being grabbed out of his arm. He doesn’t bother to try and fight for it back, too busy scrambling back and falling out of his front door. The sword gets stabbed through his cloak, pulling the clothing item off as he throws himself out the front door. 

Techno runs quickly, his wings naturally puffing up and spreading behind him despite how much it slows him down. If he can get to the trees he can do his best to roll in mud and hide from Phil, but there is a lot of space between him and the trees right now and not a lot of time to get there. 

There’s a loud noise from behind him and a slam as the door to his house is opened as harshly as possible. Phil emerges from the house and pushes himself forward, beating his wings to get to Techno faster. 

The sword isn’t in his hand, likely forgotten back at the house, meaning Techno will have to go back if he wants to have a weapon advantage on Phil. He doesn’t think he would be able to evade Phil enough to get back to his house. 

With his wings spread, Techno tries something out of pure desperation. He still hasn’t managed to fly but everyday he gets closer to succeeding. There’s no chance he’s going to get it today, but he is certainly going to try if it means getting away from Phil. 

He beats his wings once, twice. His feet lift off the ground and he goes a bit forward before he gets grabbed from behind. Phil’s grip is like iron, unbreakable where he holds onto Techno. They fly high, and further away from Techno’s farm. 

As they pass over the potato farms, Techno yells as loud as possible and makes the most baby-help-scared sounding bird noise as possible. Phil pauses for a second, which is more than enough time for Techno to free himself. 

He starts freefalling through the air, spinning and tumbling through the wind while his wings remain useless on his back. It isn’t until he manages to right himself in the air that he flares his wings out, drifting down to the ground. 

Phil dives from above, approaching techno rapidly, but the modicum amount of success he had fills him with enough confidence to pull his wings close and do his own dive to the ground. He flares right before touching the ground, rolling a few times on the ground so that he doesn’t break anything. 

He doesn’t manage to avoid it all, scratching his head on a rock and bleeding sluggishly from the wound. 

Phil lands gracefully behind him, looking at Techno with eyes that scream of possessiveness and a plan to kidnap. “Do you not want family, Techno? Do you not want to stay with me? In the castle?”

Techno grunts, staggering upward. He is breathing heavily, glaring as much as his bleeding head will allow. His whole body aches, he’s out of fighting practice. But farming is a taxing job and he has enough fight in him to make sure Phil doesn’t take him anywhere.

“No, I think I’m good where I am.”

Phil glares this time too, all that dark possessiveness taking over his eyes. It clouds his brain and floods his eyes with this hazy sort of anger. Something about holding the crown definitely changed him. 

“We’re friends, Techno! Come with me, be family with me!” He gestures his hands a little widely, not looking fully himself. He makes a bunch of bird noises and yet Techno remains completely unmoved. 

He is not some baby bird, he is a grown man.

“Nope,” Techno says plainly, stepping back once and then again. He continues until he’s leaving Phil there, in the dirt of his potato fields. “Don’t come back here, Phil. Even your strongest guards, your largest army, wouldn't be able to drag me to that haunted castle of yours!”

“We’re friends, Technoblade!” Phil calls, one last time. He is slowly getting to his feet but he is making no attempt to get to Techno. He seems to know that he’ll need more than just himself to even attempt to bring Techno to the castle. “We could be family!”

Techno only bothers with one final sentence before he takes off, flying back home. Before he leaves all this behind, flying out of a black hole and the worm hole connected to it. He is himself, he is a star and the world and the planets. He has wings but that is not what makes him special. 

He is his own worth. He is the potatoes he grows and the animals he raises and the friends he has made. He is his past and his future. Phil does not dictate his life, does not dictate what he wants and what he is. Only Techno does that.

He says, “and yet… here we are.”