Archive of Our Own ^beta

Technoblade's parents died before they could teach him a lot of important things.

He never properly learned how to fly, his wings too small for it yet. They didn't show him how to hunt, always bringing food back for him to the cave. Techno doesn't know how to control his fire-breathing, unable to create more than a few withering flames, quickly snuffed out by the breeze. And sometimes when he tries to warp his shape, he still ends up doing it wrong.

But he knows how important the hoard is.

His parents were very clear about that one. And even if they hadn't been, Techno kind of thinks that he would still know. He can feel it deep inside him - singing to him. Looking at the gold makes him happy, and the thought of losing it is more unbearable than anything, almost as unbearable as his parents leaving forever.

And they did leave forever. So the gold is all he has left.

Techno guards it fiercely. Day and night, he tries to stay awake as much as he can, and only sleeps when he's so exhausted his vision literally gets blurry with it. Then he curls up near his entrance to the cave, where no intruders can sneak past him. He can't leave the hoard to go hunt. Thankfully, his parents stocked a lot of food too. And sometimes Techno catches rats or bats that scurry around the dark caverns. He lies and he waits.

For what? Techno isn't certain. Maybe waiting and guarding are the same thing.

The drip-drip-drip of stalactites wakes him up. Techno scrunches up his face, flinching when a small drop of water hits him on the tip of his snout. Somehow, the tickle of it almost makes him sneeze, but then a harsh snort of his nostrils chases it away. He blinks his eyes open.

A shiver runs through him. Coldness has been creeping in, the hardened ground blankets the mountain with snow. It doesn't quite melt, but some of it seems to seep into the soil, and then the cave leaks. Techno has collected as much moss as he could and stuffed it against the ceiling. He wants to keep the hoard safe. Water can't harm gold, of course. Just in case, though…

Slowly, he stretches, wings flaring out behind him and nails scratching against rock. Techno yawns widely. The action leaves all of his sharp teeth on display for a brief moment. Then he shakes his head, and transforms back into his human form.

Sleeping is more comfortable when he can curl up and not fear getting cold. But for a lot of other stuff, thumbs and walking upright make his life a lot easier. Techno pushes some coins back against the pile of his hoard, before picking one up and holding it in his hand.

He rubs the gold between his fingers as he makes his way around.

The simple action brings Techno a lot of comfort. Especially when he has to go to the front of the cave, away from his hoard. Every step that puts more distance between him and his treasures makes his heart skip another beat, makes his throat feel too tight and his skin itch. It feels wrong. But he has to.

The narrow tunnel slants slightly upward, the end of it an almost vertical drop where Techno has to dig his heels into the footholds and clamber to the top. He stays on his elbows and knees for a moment when he's there, panting. Techno rubs his upper arms and looks up, blinking thickly. He's tired, even though he only woke up a couple of minutes ago. His parents said this is normal for a dragon of his age, but that was back when they could do all the guarding. Techno has to pick up the slack now, so he has no time for lazing and slumbering.

He squeezes himself the last few feet through the crevice, until he emerges into the thick undergrowth of the woods. As he stands, Techno rubs off the dirt, and holds the gold tighter. He turns and starts trudging up the mountain.

The entrance that his parents used to get in and out of the cave is up there. Techno can't reach it from the inside, the walls of the cavern are too concave to climb up. But he knows that's the best vantage point for overlooking the territory.

Rhythmically, he squeezes the gold in his grip, the metal warmed by the heat of his own palm. Techno knows his hoard is right beneath his feet. Several protective layers of packed dirt are the only thing between him and his treasures. Nothing to worry about. If anything, they're more secure down there.

And yet, his head swims with a longing to be down there too. To curl up again next to their comforting shine, and never get up, and wait for his parents to bring him food. Silly impulses, Techno shakes his head against them harder, his hair getting in his face until he roughly shoves it away again. His mother used to braid it for him, but Techno's fingers are too clumsy. They keep shaking. Everything does, from head to toe. Sometimes, it feels as if even his brain is shaking within his skull.

Techno clutches at the gold harder, until the grooved side leaves an indent in the skin of his hand.

After much too long if you consider the shortness of the journey, Techno finds the trees around him thinning out and the ground getting more rocky. He sighs, lungs pinching together at the frigid quality of the air this high up. Techno finds the little ledge where there is a huge hole in the side of the mountain. Despite trying to push down on the urge to get a peek, he finds himself walking into the gaping tear between the rocks, larger than him so many times over. Techno shuffles his feet, not wanting to trip in the pitch darkness. He can see the slope, and then, barely visible, the pile of gold below. Right there where he left it, safe and sound.

He exhales with relief and turns around again. Back out on the ledge, Techno has a very good view of the woods and the lands that surround the mountain. On the left, if he really strains himself, a small stripe of the sea is visible, blanketed by rolling dunes of sand. There are a few human towns, but all of them are so far away they can hardly pose a threat. If they'd even dare approach, which humans usually don't.

Or-

Techno gasps.

Right there, between the thick tops of speckled green and brown, he can see a long, meandering trail of smoke. Not too nearby, but not too far away either. Somebody has lit a fire.

Techno's jaw aches as he grinds his teeth, instinctively biting down on a growl.

How dare they - whoever they are - step foot in his forest? How dare they come close to his mountain, his hoard!? The sudden realization that there are people nearby fills him with a rage he barely recognizes.

Quickly, Techno turns to run back down the mountain. The time has come for him to protect the hoard.

---

"Stay safe," Kristin says, both hands pressed to his cheeks. Her skin is soft, the touch warm. Phil basks in it, and selfishly wishes it would last a little longer. He's been so stressed lately. Being near his mate is the only thing that can bring him peace.

But then Tommy whines, soft and discontented. And Phil gently grabs her wrists to pull her hands away.

"I won't be long," he promises. "I'll find us something."

"I know." Kristin gives a nod as she turns around, back towards their little one fussing in the makeshift nest. A pathetic attempt made of blankets and pillows, unpacked from their supplies. Kristin hurries over to it, bending to pull Tommy closer to her body. The child burrows against her, face hiding in the crook of his mother's neck. Phil frowns.

Tommy is too young to travel.

He was hatched only a few months ago, flesh tender and without scales, fragile. Taking him away from home goes against every instinct Kristin and Phil possess. Except… they have no home. Not anymore. Leaving was the only option to ensure all of their safety.

A small distance away from the clearing where they made their temporary camp, Phil stretches his arms above his head. He shifts, landing his forelegs on the ground with a heavy thud as the center of his gravity tilts and his tail extends behind him. Phil has his eye on a mountain nearby. He's been watching it for days as they walked, and hasn't noticed any significant hurdle that should prevent them from making it their new home. It's nice and remote, doesn't seem to have anybody around. That's what they need. Phil can't risk his family being disturbed again, forcing them to uproot. All he wants is some damn peace and quiet.

He gives his body a moment to adjust to the changed form, then beats his giant wings into taking flight. His lithe shape rises above the treetops quickly, watching the forest become a green, muddled mess of scenery. Phil circles the mountain once, looking at it closely. Near the top, the terrain sort of flattens out, and it should be possible for him to land. He sees several cracks in the ground that could lead into the caverns that are common in mountains such as this. Phil picks one out at random and dives towards it.

The air rushes past, a dizzying swirl as he picks up speed. Only at the last moment do his wings snap out and bring him to a sharp halt.

Once landed, Phil decides to remain in his dragon form for the moment. His sensitive hearing can't pick up anything, his sharp sight can't discern the slightest movement. But Phil knows that looks can be deceiving. He crawls closer to one of the fissures that leads into the mountain's cave network.

And then sees the enormous pile of gold that lies within.

Phil's claws pierce the rock with a single, automatic twitch at seeing the hoard. Small gleaming trinkets, countless coins, silver cups with gem inlays, all haphazardly thrown together. Quite a collection. But extremely strange to see lying in a place he assumed uninhabited. Only one creature could make a hoard like this. But Phil thinks he would have noticed if a dragon had settled here. If he'd known, he'd never have brought his family to this mountain. Dragons are rare enough and the world big enough, that they have no need to venture into each other's territory. Unless they want to start a fight.

Abandoned then, maybe? Or whoever made this their lair has died, and nobody else has come by to claim it.

Phil considers for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of venturing forth. If the dragon that used to live here is truly gone, it would be an ideal place for him and his family to settle. The free treasures are a nice bonus, since Phil and Kristin had to leave everything behind when they fled. Painful as that was, the life of their hatchling obviously is worth more to them than any gold ever could be. But it'd be good to have a new hoard without needing to collect things from scratch.

On the other hand, the dragon that used to live here might have left for good reason. Or if they died, who knows what the cause was. Phil hates the thought of bringing his family from one precarious situation into another.

In the end, he decides the risk is worth at least a bit of a closer examination.

Phil descends into the gaping hole, powerful beats of his wings disturbing the pile of gold, which shifts as he lands on it, causing a rain of coins to scatter along the floor. A significant amount of dust is blown up by the action too, making Phil shake his scaled head. Dirt and debris are a constant of life in caves such as this, but the comings and goings of another dragon would have prevented it from accumulating on the hoard. Definitely abandoned then.

Beyond that, the cave reeks of rot and decay. Phil spots a few piles of animal bones, and smells the putrid scent of something hidden in the darker corners. Nothing dangerous, probably prey gone bad with time. It's hard to estimate, but whatever dragon resided here must have left or died months ago, if not years. The entire cave has an unpleasant air to it as a result, though Phil supposes they'll have to clean up before moving in anyway. The size is perfect, there is some soft bedding left on the floor that hasn't gone bad, and the walls are packed with squishy material that will keep out the wind. A great find, really. A new home for them to thrive.

With one last look around, Phil takes off again up towards the mouth of the cave, excited to share the good news with his mate.

---

Techno had planned to fight for his hoard.

He'd often thought about it, or dreamed about it - nightmares, really - on fretful days not long after his parents died. He knew that it was possible somebody would find the hoard, and try to steal it. And Techno's job was to prevent that, to die for it if need be.

But when he saw the adult dragon that descended from up above, he cowered and hid.

He's not proud of it. Techno spent all that time worrying about what he would do and when the moment arrived, then all he could do was scurry to the darkest corner he could find, beneath some old ratty blankets his parents got forever ago, and will his body to stay as still as possible, limbs wound tight, tail tucked between his legs. The dragon he saw was smaller than his parents, but with a sleek body of glistening forest green scales. Large black horns angled back from its head, its wings as huge as clouds. Techno hasn't seen any other dragons ever before - only his mother and father.

He never wants to again after being so terrified.

But fate is not that merciful. Because he knows the dragon will return. It looked at the hoard, and Techno suspects it'll come back either to take it or maybe to come live in the cave. Techno will have to fight.

He stays up waiting for it. He's too wired to eat or drink or sleep. He sits. He stares.

The hole up above… Techno wonders if he could reach it after all? He tries once, attempting to flap his wings like he used to see his parents do. All it does is make his shoulders ache. If he could fly, would he fly far away from here? No. Definitely not. He'd have to leave the hoard behind.

Something heavy settles on the rock outside. Techno tenses, and then he quickly buries himself in the pile of gold, slithering and wiggling his body until he's covered by coins and treasure. Techno is a light pinkish color, but his scales still have a distinct golden gleam to them. A trademark of hatchlings, to help them blend in.

The pressure is nice, even if it feels as if it's squeezing all the air out of his lungs. He can't really breathe. But he wants to be the first to strike. If the prey is bigger or faster than you, having the advantage of surprise is the best tactic. His dad told him that once.

The heavy thing descends, and Techno feels a light tremor in the rocks as it lands on the ground next to the hoard. Some coins slide off, and Techno strains in an effort not to shake too. Hopefully, any movement he makes will be chalked up to the hoard settling. He can hear the dragon move, a huge lumbering thing.

Techno can't see much, so he has to rely on his gut feeling to know when the dragon has shifted to stand over the hoard properly, hind legs on one side and front legs on the other, the tender meat of the belly hovering mere feet above Techno's hiding spot.

He winds up, every muscle prepared. Then he lunges.

His teeth sink into any flesh it can reach, grinding against scales to force their way through. With his claws, he tries to tear deep gashes. Even his tail lashes out, beating against the adult dragon's side.

The dragon roars loudly, and falls onto its side to crush Techno under it. He releases his bite and rolls away, sending the hoard flying. Then Techno jumps up again, going for a second chomp.

He probably won't be able to kill the adult dragon. But all Techno really needs is to chase it away.

Something hard collides with his side and sends him flying. Techno yelps as his back hits the cave wall. He falls to the ground, coughing.

And then he can't seem to stop.

His insides burn, his lungs are on fire. There are all these sharp bits in the air, and Techno tries to hack them up, to keep them away, but he's gasping and that only forces them in deeper. He coughs and coughs until the taste of blood lies at the back of his throat.

Then something scorching nudges into him.

Techno recoils, and raises his hands - hands? Did he transform back without noticing it? - to shield his face. A whimper pours out of his throat, unbidden. He takes a step back, but his leg instantly buckles under the slightest pressure. It hurts. Everything hurts. He doesn't want it to hurt.

He wants his parents.

The unbearable heat pulls away, and Techno blinks through his lashes to see that it was the adult dragon, tilting its head now, looking somewhat confused. Concerned.

Techno hunches up more, arms fully covering his head, waiting for it to kill him. It's going to take his hoard anyway, so would it even matter? His parents gone, his treasure gone, his breath gone. Techno next.

Except, nothing happens.

"Fuck," a voice says instead, sounding mildly frazzled. "Fuck, are you- Shit, no, hold on." When a hand touches him, another weaker flinch runs through Techno. But the man holds him firm. "I didn't mean to-"

Techno sobs.

He's not proud of that either. Ever since his parents left, Techno has needed to be strong. He can't rely on them to protect him anymore, to take care of him. He has to do it all himself. But being strong feels terrible. He doesn't know if he can do it anymore.

The man, no longer a dragon, pulls him close and settles a hand on his chest. Techno feels something warm, not unpleasant.

Despite his better judgment, he leans into it.

---

In the many centuries that Phil has been alive, he's never felt a shame as great as having to admit to his mate that he hurt a child.

He didn't mean to. When he is attacked, is it not expected that he would lash out? He feels absolutely terrible that it resulted in this.

"Don't move," he says, holding the boy who is shaking in his arms with wheezy little breaths. He's so young, too young. Phil has needed to reassess his entire conclusion. There is absolutely no way in hell this lair and hoard were abandoned after all. No dragon would ever abandon their hatchling.

"I need to go back," the boy says. "Please."

"I know," Phil soothes. "You can't go back yet. It's not safe."

"It was safe until you came here." The words sting, but Phil has no retort to them.

"He's settled," Kristin says as she kneels beside them. Phil glances over at Tommy, all wrapped up in the nest again, blond hair of his human form peeking out over the blankets while he's fast asleep. Phil can't help but wonder at how much older this boy is compared to his own son. It seems barely anything. "What do you need?"

"Help me keep him still," Phil says. "We need to put a splint on his leg."

Kristin nods, moving herself behind the boy so she can brace her arms around his body and pull him to her chest. Phil uses the moment to take the boy's ankle and stretch out his leg, attempting to ignore the pained whimper he earns from this. They're lucky the boy shifted back into his human form when he was hurt. For hatchlings, it can be a bit of a toss-up where their instincts lead them. But his injuries are easier to treat like this.

"What's your name?" Kristin asks the boy. Probably an attempt to distract him from Phil's busy hands.

The boy won't have it at first, heaving at the dust in his lungs, staring wide-eyed at Phil trying to help. But Kristin cups his cheek and makes him look at her.

"I'm Kristin," she says. "What's your name?"

The boy stares at her for a few blinks, bottom lip trembling. Then he pushes it down, trying to look resolute and brave. Not entirely successful, though a commendable effort. "Techno."

"Where are your parents, Techno?"

"Died," Techno manages with a hitched exhale.

"Oh, sweetheart." Kristin rubs his cheek a few times. "I'm so sorry."

Techno hisses sharply as Phil restrains the leg so it will keep in place. "I need to go back," he repeats. "They left me the hoard, I need to protect it."

"That's what you were doing when you attacked Phil?" Kristin guesses. Techno nods tightly.

"Didn't want you to steal it," he says.

"We weren't-" Phil starts, before glancing away. "I mean, if we'd known about you, we wouldn't have tried to take it. We're not thieves."

"I'm sorry if we scared you," Kristin says, petting slightly at the crown of Techno's head.

"I wasn't scared," Techno says. Neither of them has the heart to deny him.

"This should help with the leg," Phil says when he's done putting the splint in place.

"I need to-" Techno starts, wiggling to stand, an attempt to get up so pathetic it tugs at Phil's guilt all over again. He did this. Even if he didn't mean to.

"You need to rest," he says. "For a little while, and then we'll bring you back to your hoard."

"Promise?" Techno asks suspiciously.

"Promise," Kristin says, still petting him. "And I promise nobody will ever try to take it from you again."

Such a simple thing seems to sap whatever energy remained in the boy, and he nods again, slumping against Kristin's body more. He's weak - malnourishment and exhaustion prey on hatchlings easily - and the coughing fit wouldn't have helped. He already struggles to keep his eyes open.

As Techno sinks into sleep completely, Kristin meets Phil's gaze.

"You do realize what that means, don't you?" he asks with a half-hearted chuckle.

"We need a safe place to live," Kristin says, "and he needs somebody to look after him. Sounds pretty straightforward to me."

Phil shifts back, looking at Tommy again. Hatchlings need to be taken care of, it's true. Still… "Anything but," he says.

"Well, it's the least you can do to make it up to him after body slamming him into a rock wall and breaking his bones," Kristin adds offhandedly.

It makes Phil splutter in embarrassment. "I didn't fucking mean to!"

"I know," Kristin laughs. Her other hand - the one not busy petting Techno absentmindedly still - reaches out for his wrist. "You know what I mean. He needs us."

Phil shifts, but doesn't pull away. Looking with both reluctance and acceptance at the boy lying in his mate's arms, too small to be alone.

"He does," Phil agrees.

They did leave all their treasures behind when they fled their home. A good thing, then, that they so easily found new ones.