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.”