Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey, Philza.”

Phil looked over from where he was sitting in the living area, a book left forgotten in his lap. With one hand, he had propped up his face, starting into the stretch of green and white that extended beyond the windows outside. It was still light out, for now, as the sun was beginning to set on the tundra. 

Technoblade was standing in the doorway. He had thrown his cloak over one shoulder as he leaned against the doorframe. With his hair pulled back and away from his face, he seemed to be headed out into the white expanse Phil had been observing. But without any armor on. Phil frowned.

“Hey, Techno, what is it?” He finally asked. He shut the book, setting it down beside him. Techno wrung his hands for a moment, a look of uncertainty passing over his face before he spoke. 

“I was thinkin’, since I finally have the time to get around to it, I was thinkin’ of showin’ Ranboo the ropes with the sword we just cast.” He paused, frowning. “Well, not just cast, but, I dunno, I feel like it’s gotten too quiet and I don’t want somethin’ happenin’ and him not be ready for it.”

Techno, at this point, had moved into the room. He sat in the armchair across from Phil, crossing one leg over the other. He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he leaned back, resting his head against the backpiece of the chair. There was an overwhelmingly tired aura that poured off him—Phil could tell he was on the edge of some internal precipice. But he certainly couldn’t tell what. He never was able to get inside of Techno’s head the way Techno got into everyone else’s. Maybe Phil was more of an open book than he thought. Leaning forward, Phil set his elbows on his knees, reaching over to pat Techno’s leg.

“Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

Techno shook his head, glancing away. “Nah, nah, nothing’s bothering me, Phil, I just...” he screwed up his face in thought, hands forming a steeple as he pressed them together, musing to himself. “I think I’m gettin’ attached.”

Philza couldn’t hold back a laugh. For that, Techno shot him a dirty look before he diverted, standing again in one fell swoop.

“Anyway!” he said as he righted himself. “I came to ask you to come practice. The boys need to practice somehow, figure you and I’d be the best to show them.”

Phil hesitated, then stood, but not without question.

“Me? Tech, you know it’s been ages since I’ve actually fought anyone, right?”

Techno shrugged, finally pulling his coat over his shoulders. It nearly doubled his breadth as it settled. Phil was surprised each time it happened. Surprised, a bit impressed even. 

“Sure, but you know me well enough. Plus, it’s not like I’m gonna be swingin’ at you with my enchanted axe or nothin’.”

Philza sighed. Techno stood in the doorway for a long moment, waiting on Phil’s response. No verbal one came, but Phil moved into the foyer of the cabin, collecting his coat and shoes and hat. Despite the sun still being out, it was likely to be quite cold outside. Settling his cloak around his shoulders, Phil looked back at Techno, who was observing him idly. He smiled—well, as much as the slight upturn of his mouth was considered a smile—at Phil. Phil shook his head, then, with a start, pushed open the oak front door. 

No rush of cold breeze met him, which he found surprising as he stepped out onto the porch and down the steps. As he looked out onto the yard, covered in a fine layer of frost, he could not find Ranboo, but he could hear Tubbo. Turning in a circle, he found him, standing just outside Ranboo’s cow pen. 

“Hey! Tubbo!”

Tubbo turned as Phil called him. He beamed, waving a fistfull of hay in greeting.

“Where’s Ranboo?” Phil said. From the distance, Tubbo gave a shrug. He spoke up as he fed the hay he’d been holding to one of the cows.

“He’s probably inside, I’ll get ‘em.”

Phil watched as Tubbo bounded across the field to Ranboo’s home—well, as home as he wanted it to be. Phil never wanted to push him to stay, considering Ranboo’s eagerness to explore further than the terrain of the tundra. And Philza didn’t blame him. But he was worried, sometimes. The anxiety about Tubbo, Ranboo, even Technoblade, got to him endlessly. 

Maybe Techno was right, maybe Ranboo was growing on him. 

“Oh,” he heard Tubbo say across the field. He stood, halfway between the cowpen and Ranboo’s house, facing the cabins with his face alight. “Wait, he’s over here! Ranboo, hey!”

Phil, now with Techno peering over him, looked into the backyard. From where he was standing, Phil could barely see the mop of white and black hair peeking over the bridge between the cabins. Phil began his way over to the bridge with Techno in towe. He heard Ranboo and Tubbo speaking as he crossed the yard and stepped up onto the bridge, the snow crunching under his shoes.

“Did you forget I was over here, Tubbo?”

“Wha—no, I just didn’t see you move!”

“I haven’t left!”

“I don’t believe you, Ranboo,”

“I...” Ranboo paused, looking up and over as Phil came down the other side of the steps to the bridge. 

Ranboo was standing very nearly in the dog pen, as much as his height and size would allow. He went back to idly petting the one that was currently sitting near his knee, scratching between the dog’s ears. It let out a huff as it set its head back down onto Ranboo’s knee. He spoke up as Techno and Phil grew closer.

“Hey, Philza, hey, Techno,” he managed, a grin splitting across his face. Phil snorted. 

“Having fun, Ranboo?”

“Oh, very much so. Very happy that this is my job now.”

Phil looked over his shoulder at Techno, who gave him a shrug in return. 

“I said he could feed the dogs in the morning, I never expected him to get in there with ‘em.”

Phil shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighed, waved his hand, and folded his arms across his chest, keeping the heat from escaping from inside his coat. 

“Anyway, Techno and I,” Techno gave him a nudge; Phil huffed. “ Techno , sorry, suggested that it might be a good idea for you boys to get some sparring practice in.”

“Sparring practice? What for?” Tubbo asked. He leaned against the fence post to the dog pen, letting one of the dogs lick his arm and sleeve as he pat its head. 

“Yeah,” Ranboo echoed. “Isn’t everything supposed to be...chill, now?” 

Techno spoke up. “Sure, but you never know when somethin’s gonna happen, and I’d rather you three be prepared for when that somethin’ does happen, rather than gettin’ your asses handed to you.”

As Techno swore, Tubbo snorted, restraining a grin. Techno rolled his eyes. With a whirl of his cloak, he turned, crushing the snow under his boots. He waved his hand, motioning Tubbo, Ranboo, and Phil to follow him back to the front. He spoke over one shoulder, throwing the words behind him.

“C’mon, we’re burning whatever daylight we have left.”

Clamoring out of the dog pen, Ranboo fixed his coat better around his shoulders. He followed Phil and Tubbo up the steps and across the bridge. He blinked as his eyes continued to adjust to the white expanse in front of him. The front yard was even more blindingly brilliant than the back, but most of the snow had been cleared away, leaving just a patchy haze of frost on the brown grass beneath. 

Techno had taken up a wooden staff, fashioned of bamboo, now brown with age. A similar one was not much further away, propped up in the frozen soil. He stood, leaning against it as the trio made their way over.

Tubbo and Ranboo moved to the step of Techno’s cabin, sitting beside each other. Ranboo stretched out his legs, leaning back against the steps. Techno watched them settle in, before he turned to Phil, who stood, arms crossed, a few feet away. Techno bobbed his head, trying to catch his attention. Phil pulled a face as they met eyes. Phil paused, scrunching up his face. 

“Technoblade,” he said, “You can’t be serious.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Techno spread his hands, voice questioning. “I’m totally legit.”

“No,” Phil waved his hand. “It’s just that it’s bloody cold out here, mate,” he pulled his cloak further around his shoulders.

“Maybe for you, old man,” Techno jeered, but the undertone was waveringly affectionate. Phil heard Tubbo gag and shot him a look. 

“The rest of us can handle the cold.” Techno continued. “Plus, that’s funny comin’ from one half of the Antarctic Empire.”

“The what?” Ranboo questioned, his ears perking up.

Phil waved his hand dismissively, sighing. “Nothing, it’s nothing.” 

He heard Techno chuckle to himself.

There was a long moment of silence before it was ultimately broken by Tubbo.

“Anyway,” he drawled. “So Techno, why’d you bring us out here anyway?”

“Right,” Techno straightened, moving away from where he was standing and back toward the other pole. He gathered them both, sticking one under his arm and tossing the other to Phil, who caught it, much to his own surprise. 

“I figured the best way to get some experience in hand to hand—”

“We have experience!” Tubbo interjected. Techno held up a hand.

“The best way to get more experience in hand to hand, not that you aren’t okay already, Hypixel and what-all,” he continued. He paced over to the far side of the clearing, away from the group, before he tested the weight of the staff in his hands. “is to watch. And practice, but ain’t no way you’re fightin’ me or Phil before you get some trainin’ in.”

Techno passed the staff back and forth in his hands. “So for that reason, Phil and I can go first.” He pointed the butt end of the staff toward Phil, who had made his way over so that he stood in front of Techno on the opposite side of the clearing. He had removed the heavy cloak, leaning heavily against the pole as he watched Techno stretch, up and over his head.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Tech,” he said. finally taking a moment to stretch out for himself. “You all keep saying I’m old, so, is it really a fair match?”

Techno hummed. “Well, I never mean it when I say it, but, if you’re that worried I can take it easy on ya.”

“Ah,” Phil took off his hat, setting it next to his coat. He paced back over, blinking in the mid-evening sun. Readying the staff in his hands, Phil set his stance. “That’s not what I said, mate.”

“Oh, I see,” Techno said. He twirled the staff in one hand idly, still feeling the weight in his palm. Finally, he stopped, holding it at the ready. He squared his shoulders. “Then bring it on, Philza.”

A cheer from Tubbo set them off. Techno surged forward, swinging his staff up and over his head. Phil only had a fraction of a second to block, the blow sounding off with a resounding clack. He stepped back as Techno swung again from his left, which was again blocked. Phil swung back, striking down. He missed, Techno dodging out of the way, moving back to sweep at his legs. Phil backpedaled again, swung, missed, ducked, tried to catch Techno with the short end of his staff, only to be blocked again. He grit his teeth. Techno pushed forward and Phil slid out of the way, just in time to miss a downward strike. Readying from the side, Phil swung again, parrying up as they smacked together. Techno ducked under Phil’s upward swing, forcing his staff between the two of them. With a jerk, he ripped Phil’s staff from his hands. The momentum pushed Phil over, who landed on the ground. His breath came hard and fast as he glanced up, peering at Techno who loomed above him. A borderline wicked grin split across his face.

“Good on you,” he said. Techno tucked the other staff under his arm, reaching down to offer Phil his hand. Phil took it, pulling himself off the grass. Taking his staff back, Phil exhaled, heavily.

“You alright, Phil?” Techno asked, his voice more than peppered with concern.

“Oh, sure,” Phil said through a sigh. “Caught me off guard.”

“Happens to the best of us, Phil,” Ranboo joked.

Phil shook his head, suppressing a smile. Walking over to the other side of the clearing once more, he righted himself, stretching out his arms and wings, ruffling out the feathers. He tried not to use them to fight, try if he may, that was, but he felt his balance improve significantly as he let them hang in the air, suspended. 

“Let’s go again,” he said, voice clearer. His breathing had returned to normal and there now lay a mischievous glint in his eye. Maybe it was the adrenaline. He had been right, it had been a long time since he’d fought, let alone sparred. It felt...nice.

Techno blinked, a surprised expression passing over his face for a moment, before he paced over to the other side of the clearing.

“Sure thing,” he said, “Same as last time, I—”

Techno was cut off as Phil dashed forward, swinging upward with the staff. Techno ducked, the pole barely missing his jaw as he did. He swung back, bracing the staff on both ends. Phil dodged, swung back to his left. He parried, pushing Phil away, but only for a moment. Phil swung down again, and when he missed, swung to his right, knocking Techno’s jaw with his elbow. Techno stumbled back, blinking through the strike of pain that washed over his face all at once. 

“Shit!” Phil cried. “Sorry, Tech, I—” 

Techno struck down on him with the staff, which Phil again blocked with his own staff. He gave Techno a shove, meeting his backpedal with a leftward swipe of the pole, then a rightward, He had begun to hold the staff not like a bo-staff, but more like a sword. And Techno followed suit, the length perfectly situated for his axe. He struck down, the sides of each staff meeting, another resounding clack of wood, Phil ducking away to force his own against the right side of Techno’s. It jostled the staff from his hand for a moment, a moment long enough for Phil to surge forward, wings outstretched. He caught Techno’s arm instead, pulling him down to the ground with his weight. Techno hit the grass with an audible oof , Philza, staff in both hands, down on one knee, pressing down on his chest. He grinned, reaching for Phil’s ankle. 

Phil felt the reach and his arm shot down, pinning his wrist to the ground.

“Good on you,” Techno echoed. As the rush of the fight left Phil, he made a surprised sound. Pulling himself up and off of Techno, he helped him stand. At once, he was checking Techno’s face, cradling his jaw in one hand. An angry, red welt had begun to form where Phil had hit him. Phil visibly winced. 

“I’m sorry, Techno, that was totally unintentional.”

“What?” Techno looked incredulous. “No, it’s fine, I expected somethin’ like that to happen, honestly. You always liked to mix it up.” 

The smallest of smiles formed again as Phil held Techno’s face for another moment. Phil didn’t hold back his own grin. They stood together, watching each other’s faces, Philza still searching for any hint of pain, and, really, he was just making sure that the welt wouldn’t immediately bruise as soon as Techno looked away. It was nothing a salve and some ice wouldn’t fix. 

“I was gonna say how cool that was but now you guys are just being affectionate .” Tubbo griped from where he sat, Ranboo’s legs stretched across his lap.

“Oh, and you’re one to talk?” Phil cracked. Tubbo opened his mouth to retort, but, finding nothing, promptly shut it. Ranboo snorted, which turned into a full on laugh as Tubbo glared in his general direction. 

“Yeah but it’s different when we do it,” Ranboo complained. He gestured widely to the air as he spoke. 

“Sure, sure, of course,” Phil said. He made his way over to the two, picking up his hat and coat in his hands. He leaned the staff against the banister of the steps, pulling the coat around his shoulders. He sniffed, the cold air making his nose and cheeks red. He wrung his hands, walking the short way back into the clearing more fully, halfway between the boys and Techno. He glanced between them, the two watching Techno, who was dusting off dirt and snow from his shirt.

Ranboo, finally peeking out from behind his hands, met Techno’s eye. 

“So when do we get to do all that?” he asked. Tubbo made a noise in agreement. 

Techno spun the staff lazily in one hand. “Now, if you want.” He held the staff out to the two, gesturing with one hand. “That was the plan.”

Ranboo blinked. “I...” he folded his hands. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Despite protest, however, he clambered up, ducking under the overhang of the roof, walking out into the clearing. He had left his coat on the step, folding his arms around himself. He watched Techno with a curious intensity as he stood in front of him, eyes wide. From his height, Ranboo stood just a few inches taller than Techno, which bothered him to no end, but he knew Ranboo hadn’t yet learned to use his height to his advantage, let alone harness anything else about his hybrid state. At least, Techno assumed he hadn’t.

Techno gestured with the staff, tossing it in Ranboo’s direction. Ranboo managed to catch it, the staff wobbling in his hands as he fumbled and held steady. From the steps, Tubbo snorted.

“It’s not funny, Tubbo,” Ranboo warned. 

Tubbo shrugged. From beside him, sitting with his legs crossed, Phil shook his head. 

“Go on, Ranboo,” he prompted. “You can take ‘em.”

Techno frowned. “Oh, no,” he corrected. “Ranboo’s not fightin’ me.” He pointed the staff to Tubbo, who let out an incredulous noise. “He’s gonna fight Tubbo.”

“What?” Ranboo said, voice bowing in concern. He shook his head. “I don’t want to fight Tubbo, he’s too small!”

“What?” Tubbo echoed. He stood, fiddling with the clasp on his cloak. “Small? Ranboo, I am an average height, I am not small ,”

“C’mon, Tubbo, it’s not fair to you!”

“Listen, bossman , this is starting to sound like a challenge,” Tubbo said. He came down the steps, stalking his way onto the field. Standing a few feet out from Techno, he folded his arms, squinting at Ranboo. Ranboo flicked his tail nervously.

“It’s not a challenge,” he tried.

“Oh, it’s a challenge, alright,” Techno said. He held out the staff to Tubbo. “Do your worst, bureaucrat.”

Tubbo took up the staff from Techno, throwing it back and forth in his hands. He held it at an odd angle, letting it wobble in his hands as he gestured around with it. Techno, now standing at the banister, folded his arms. He fought back a smile. Tubbo pointed the staff at Ranboo.

“Let’s go, Ranboo! Let’s get it going on!”

“I promise you those words have a totally different meaning than you think they do.” Ranboo managed, before Tubbo ran forward, swinging wildly with the staff. Ranboo sidestepped, blocking the first swing and dodging the second. As Tubbo came swinging at his legs, he swiped up with the staff. It was awkward to maneuver, almost too tall to hold comfortably, too odd to hold like a sword or an axe, weighted wrong. He barely managed to push back as Tubbo lunged forward, shifting Ranboo’s center of balance. He wobbled, shuffling to regain his footing as Tubbo swung again for his knees. This time, it collided. Ranboo yelped.

“Tubbo, ow !”

“You started this, bossman!”

Tubbo ducked under Ranboo’s uppercut, but failed to return a second swing to Ranboo’s other shin.

“Play nice, boys!” Phil called.

“No!” Techno interjected. “Play dirty! Hit ‘em, Ranboo!”

Phil made a disgruntled noise as Techno looked over, meeting his eye, face split in a grin.

Phil’s heart skipped a beat.

“I didn’t start anything!” Ranboo tried. He finally managed to use Tubbo’s momentum against him, throwing a backhand swing to the left. The push caused Tubbo to lose footing. He grabbed Ranboo’s arm as he fell sideways, jerking Ranboo forward. The two fell together, Tubbo half crushed by Ranboo’s torso. 

“Ha! I got ‘em!” Tubbo cheered. He beat against Ranboo’s shoulder with his fist. “That’s a win in my book, Ranboo.”

“I don’t think so,” Ranboo said, voice muffled. He rolled onto his back, freeing Tubbo, who scrambled up. Taking Ranboo’s arm in both hands, he pulled him to his feet, grinning up at him.

“I think it is,” he retorted. He looked over his shoulder at Techno. “What do you think, Technoblade?”

Techno hummed, tapping his chin. “Not sure, I’ll let you know once I figure it out.”

“Ugh,” Ranboo sighed. He held the staff loosely in his hands. “That hurt, Tubbo.”

“Good! I have to be good at something, you know,” Tubbo replied. He moved to step away from Ranboo, but paused for a moment. Tubbo looked up at him, frowning, eyebrows drawn together. He brushed his hair away from his face to get a better look at Ranboo, who looked down at him, head tilted to the side.

Tubbo lowered his voice. “Are you okay, Ranboo?” He reached over, taking Ranboo’s sleeve in one hand, giving it a tug.

Ranboo nodded. “I’m ok, I’m just messing with you.”

“Okay,” Tubbo’s face lit up again. He turned back to Phil and Techno. “That’s one: Tubbo, zero: bossman. Who’s next?”

“Was my defeat not enough for you?” Ranboo said, voice laced with mock hurt. Tubbo feigned with the staff, threatening to knock Ranboo’s knees again. Ranboo plucked the staff from Tubbo’s hands as he turned, holding them both in his arms, well above Tubbo’s head.

“Well, that’s not very fair, Ranboo,” Tubbo said, folding his arms.

“I never said I was fair, did I?”

It was still light when Philza and Techno made their way into Techno’s cabin. 

Techno watched as Phil shrugged off the heavy coat and draped it over the banister. He moved into the kitchen shortly after, too preoccupied with searching the cabinets to properly knock the snow off his shoes, or put his coat by the front door. Techno did for him, draping both side by side. 

By now, his jaw, just next to his ear, had begun to ache more steadily. He pressed down on it, against his better judgement, and winced. Phil must have heard him pull in a sharp breath, because he turned. He shut the cabinet and Techno realized he was holding a jar of salve in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. Techno sighed.

“Phil, I’m okay,” he protested. Phil shook his head.

“No, it’s going to bruise, especially if you keep messing with it.” He motioned for Techno to sit with him in the living area, moving past him and over to sit on the couch. He ruffled his wings as he got comfortable, crossing his legs under him. Techno sat, albeit hesitantly, right side facing Phil. 

“What about you?” Techno asked. He glanced over, trying to meet Phil’s eye. “I knocked you back pretty hard and you’ve got brittle bones.”

Phil frowned. He reached up, pushing back Techno’s hair behind his ear. Techno hummed, tilting his head into the touch.

“Stop,” Phil chastised. He took Techno’s chin in hand, moving his face closer and into the light. “And,” he finally added. “I don’t have brittle bones. I have hollow bones, there’s a very big difference.”

“Fine,” Techno agreed. “Hollow, not brittle. But still.”

Phil didn’t respond. From where Technoblade could see him, he was focused on unscrewing the tin he held. He worked silently, with his face locked in concentration, applying thin layers of cold salve and, honestly? Techno was glad. Philza knew what he was doing, of course, but the relief from the inconvenient throbbing that had just about taken over the right side of his face was undeniable. 

“They did a good job today,” Phil finally said. “I should’ve gone again to kick your ass.”

Techno snorted. “Like you could’ve.”

Phil turned Techno’s face in his hand, eyebrows furrowing. “Egomaniac,” he teased.

“ Your egomaniac,” Techno corrected. “And it’s really a God complex.”

“It’s not a complex if it’s true,” Phil said. He bit back a laugh and Techno’s mouth quirked up in a smile.

Satisfied with his work, or satisfied that Techno had stayed still for so long, Phil pushed the cold compress into Techno’s hand. Pressing it against his cheek, Techno nearly sighed with relief. He let his shoulders fall, relaxing his posture.

“I thought so,” Phil quipped. When Techno looked over at him, he was smiling.

“I can’t argue that you’re good at what you do,” Techno said.

Phil unfolded his legs, pushing himself up and off the couch. “I know,” he said. He screwed the tin of salve closed and after a moment of staring into his hands, he bent forward to kiss the crown of Techno’s head. As he pulled away, Techno grabbed his sleeve. Phil’s eyes scanned his face, the smile not fading from his own.

“What?” he asked, but Techno had made clear what his question was. With his free hand, Techno reached to cup Phil’s cheek, pulling him down to meet him. Phil’s hands settled on his shoulder and the back of his neck. Smiling, Phil knocked his forehead against Techno’s. Techno chuckled to himself as he did, scrunching his nose.

“You still alright?” Phil asked. 

“You worry too much,” Techno said. Phil laughed again and the sound made Techno’s stomach knot.

“You don’t worry enough, Tech,” Phil said. He stepped back, hands moving from Techno’s shoulders and down his arm and taking his free hand. He gave it a squeeze before he let go, which Techno returned. 

“I’m going to get ready for bed, yeah? We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

Techno nodded. 

“I wanna check in on the dogs before I do, but yeah, I should, too.”

“I know,” Phil said over his shoulder. His voice rang with amusement. “I love you, Tech.”

“Okay,” Techno said, trying to mask the softness in his voice with annoyance. He folded his arms as he rose from the couch. “Bye, g’night, Phil, love you, too.”

As Phil departed up the stairs and to bed, Techno took up his coat, laid the wet cloth out to dry. He pushed open the door to the cabin as he threw the coat around his shoulders, and stepped out onto the bridge. There, standing with his coat pulled tight around him, looking off into the tundra, was Ranboo. Techno cleared his throat and the sound caught Ranboo’s attention. He looked over, startled.

“Hey, Ranboo, uh, what’s up?” Techno said.

Ranboo fidgited with the clasp on his cloak, seemingly trying to find the words he wanted to say. His brow creased and he spoke, a fluster of words coming from him.

“Techno, I, I don’t know, I...was thinking, and uh, don’t think I’m prepared to do this,” he stuttered. “You saw what happened today. It’s been a long time since I’ve picked up a sword, and, you know, what if something happens? What if I can’t do what I’m supposed to do?”

Techno moved out onto the bridge from where he was standing in the doorway, leaned against the banister of the bridge, resting his arms over the railing. He nodded slowly, mulling Ranboo’s words over in his head.

“Yeah, I...” he nodded again. “I get your apprehension, you know, and that’s a real fair way of thinkin’ of that. But, you also gotta remember that I’m not gonna let you out there without you understandin’ what you’re doin’.” He pressed his hands together, turning his head to look at Ranboo. Ranboo had joined him at the banister, looking out onto the backyard. His eyes shone in the light, and Techno wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or something else, but his heart sank. Hesitating, he reached out, and put a hand on Ranboo’s shoulder. 

“I like to think that I know what I’m doin’ sometimes. And judgin’ from our respective heights there’s a lotta power you can put behind an axe.” 

Ranboo blinked, trying to grasp at Techno’s words. Techno turned to face him, fully now, hand still placed on his tense shoulder.

“Look,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I ain’t gonna let you do something stupid like die on my watch. That ain’t gonna happen, Ranboo.”

Ranboo’s shoulders sagged, as if a wave of relief had washed over him. He nodded.

“Thanks, Techno, I...appreciate it a lot. I guess I’m just worried.” He looked back out on the field, where Tubbo was waving his arm.

“Bossman!” he called over the yard. “Your potions are done!”

Ranboo dropped his head, laughing to himself. He gave Techno a half-hearted smile and a nod before he pulled away. But, he paused. In a quick turn, he rushed forward again, throwing his arms around Techno for the briefest hug Techno could imagine. And just as soon as the two had embraced, or, as soon as Ranboo had hugged him, he was gone, trotting down the steps and back to Tubbo. 

Mouth opened in surprise, Techno watched the two jostle each other back and forth. They walked side by side, shoving elbows and hands and each other before they made their way into Ranboo’s cabin. The door shut behind them, leaving Techno alone on the bridge in the tundra.

Chapter Text

The morning weather was just as clear as Techno could have hoped. Wiping off the dish he had used for breakfast, he stood observing the white expanse through the window. He heard the door open, and was greeted with Ranboo, coat pulled hastily on for the short trek across the field. 

“Mornin’,” Techno said, glancing over his shoulder.

“Phil’s not awake yet?” Ranboo said, peering around the corner to see into the living area and back down the hall they’d just passed through. Techno shook his head.

“Nah, not just yet.” He looked back again as he set the dish on the counter. “Where’s Tubbo?”

Ranboo blinked. “Oh, Tubbo went back to Snowchester this morning. Said he wanted to check in on some things before we went cave exploring later today.”

“You didn’t go with him?” Techno leaned against the counter.

Ranboo shook his head. “You said we’d be training this morning. I guess Tubbo assumed the invitation wasn’t open to him.” Ranboo glanced away for a moment, frowning. “I mean, I can guess why.”

Techno hummed. After a moment, he gathered the courage to speak. 

“Look...I know things weren’t great between Tubbo and I in the past, but,” Techno turned back to the sink, drying his hands on the tea towel sitting next to the faucet. “But I’m alive. And Phil trusts him. And I trust Phil. And I trust you to make good choices ‘bout the people you spend your time with.”

“So, what you’re saying is...”

“I don’t trust Tubbo as much as you do, but I trust him enough to let him be here.”

Ranboo smiled, just a fraction. “Yeah, that sounds like you saying ‘I like Tubbo’, to me.”

“Wait, hold on now,” Techno spluttered. “I never said, I—” he huffed, pulling a face. “Anyway, you need to eat, or get your gear, or whatever.”

Techno moved past Ranboo and to the living area, a frustrated frown still worn on his face. Ranboo laughed. When Techno looked back over, Ranboo noticed that the frown had faded.

“What’re you waitin’ for?” Techno asked. He bent, relighting the charred kindling in the fireplace. Watching the flames idly for a moment, Techno set the heavy metal grate around the fireplace.

“Nothing,” Ranboo said. He folded his hands. “I’ve already got everything. I brought the sword we cast. And I...” He paused, as if thinking. “I ate breakfast, too.” 

“Alright, fine,” Techno stood, resting his hands on his hips. “Then let’s get started.”

Ten minutes later, the two stood face to face outside, the grass brown beneath them. Techno had spent part of the morning earlier in the week clearing the snow away, likely with a build on his mind. But now, he stood bracing the wooden staff in both hands. Ranboo held his loosely, shoulders sloped and drawn in on himself. 

“Alright,” Techno said. He had pulled his hair up and away from his face, his heavy coat replaced with a woven shawl. Ranboo wore the same, Phil’s, actually, thrown over what he was already wearing. Techno had told him Phil was worried he would catch a cold. Ranboo had a feeling it wasn’t Phil who had originally suggested wearing a coat, but considering that the cloak he had would be too heavy to fight in...

“Now, Ranboo,” Techno said, snapping Ranboo out of his daze. Ranboo’s tail flicked back and forth as he stood idle, holding the staff in his hands, much like before. “The best defense is a good offense.”

“Well, I would hope so,” Ranboo replied.

“So that bein’ said,” Techno said. “Before I can get you swingin’ to do damage, you need to swing with purpose.”

Ranboo waved his hand. “Well, I...I think I swing just fine.”

“I trust that you do,” Techno said, splaying his hands. “But you gotta trust me if you want me to teach you.”

“Right,” Ranboo straightened, moving the staff from one hand to another. He glanced over to the steps of the cabin, where his sword, sheathed, rested on his coat. There was a knot in the pit of his stomach, but he took a long breath in, and set his shoulders. Techno met his gaze.

“Okay,” Ranboo said. “I trust you.”

Techno took a step forward, shifting his hands as he did. He held the bamboo ready like a blade, letting the natural weight settle before gesturing for Ranboo to do the same. He braced both hands at the imaginary hilt, watching Techno watching him. 

“Nobody fights clean anymore, but you don’t teach someone to fight dirty,” he said. He swung at Ranboo from the left, slow enough that Ranboo caught him with a clack . He nodded. “I’m really just tryna’ jog your muscle memory.”

Techno switched hands, sweeping the staff up and back down, quickening the pace. Another strike from the left. Ranboo tucked the blade down, switching hands in return. He took a step back, keeping an arms width from Techno as he watched him turn on one heel. 

“My muscle memory?” Ranboo asked. “I mean, if I wasn’t any good before, how would I be good now?”

Techno shrugged. Pausing for a moment, he resettled the staff in his hands. Absently, he had begun to fidget with it. After a beat, he paced forward, bringing the staff down, back around to the left, catching Ranboo just short of his shoulder. He had been halfway to a sidward block, much like before.

“You’re focusing on me instead of the blade.” Techno said. He turned sideways, feigning the movement Ranboo had just done, bringing the pole in front of his face, then to the side, tucking one hand under the other as the pole twisted in his hand, down, instead of to the right. 

“Don’t switch your hands for the block, you should be able to take the blow from one side and use the momentum.” Techno positioned the pole back in front of his face, instead twisting his arm to block the imaginary rightward blow. Pacing back to his own side, they reset positions.

“Do you know you weren’t any good?” Techno finally asked.

“I don’t know,” Ranboo shrugged. “You saw me yesterday.”

Techno stepped forward again, but motioned for Ranboo to swing first. He did, faking a left before swinging rightward. Techno ducked the swing, pushed back on the pole with his own. They met at an opposing swing, face to face. 

“Your performance yesterday doesn’t mean anythin’, really,” Techno said. He pulled away, turning to strike diagonally. Another opposing meet. Another pushback, this time, from Ranboo. Techno slid back several inches, boots slick in the snow.

“You really believe I can do this,” Ranboo dropped his stance for a moment. He held the pole tight in his hands.

“I wouldn’t’a agreed to train you if I didn’t think you could do it, Ranboo,” Techno said. He squared his shoulders, waving Ranboo back over. Ranboo stood for a moment, still hesitating, before he nodded. Righting himself, he moved forward again.

The half-paced spar continued until Ranboo’s hands felt raw. They sparred back and forth, ducking swings, parrying movements, Ranboo missing stalemates by half seconds each time. He faltered mid swing, letting Techno’s parry shirk the pole from his hand. Techno stood, squinting, his nose scrunched. 

“Heh?” He made a questioning noise.

“My fault, sorry,” Ranboo said. He knelt to pick up the pole, but found himself sitting on the brown grass, as he had fallen back onto his haunches. He looked up at Techno, who peered at him, strands of pink hair falling into his face. Ranboo wiped his face with his sleeve, pushing back his hair.

“You’re not givin’ up, are you?” Techno said. He prodded Ranboo with the bottom end of his staff, huffing.

“No, no, my hands hurt.”

“Oh,” Techno said. He took a step back, sinking down into a squat next to Ranboo in the grass. “Well why didn’t’cha say somethin’ sooner?”

“It’s okay,” Ranboo assured, bobbing his head. “I need to stop today, anyway. Tubbo should be back soon.”

After staring into his hands for a moment, Ranboo collected himself from off the ground. He wobbled as he stood, but made his way over to the stairs. There, he picked up the sword, strapping it to his hip, before he slung his cape over his shoulder and fixed the fastener. He stood on the step for a moment.

“You uh, did good today,” Techno said, looking to fill the silence. He tucked the pole under his arm, one hand on his hip. His face was warm and staring up where the sun was half in his peripheral wasn’t helping with it.

Ranboo managed a smile, showing off sharp teeth.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll get out of your hair for now, though, and I can come back tomorrow, if you want?”

Techno nodded slowly. “Yeah, as long as you’re not purposefully tryna bother me.”

Ranboo snorted, smiling. He turned, trekking up the steps and into the house. From the window, Techno watched him pause to talk to Phil, then duck out the door. He watched the mop of black and white hair bob across the bridge, down the steps, before it disappeared behind the oak fencing. 

Techno leaned against the bamboo pole still in his hand. As he stared into the cabin, he saw Phil exit through the door, watched one, two crows flutter down from the rafters of the cabin. They followed him until Techno lost sight of Philza’s hat against the snow. 

Protect Ranboo.

Keep Ranboo safe.

Is he leaving? Is he okay?

We’ll keep him safe.

Our boy, Ranboo! Our boy.

The voices overlapped, calling Ranboo’s name as they spoke. Techno shook his head. “C’mon, you know that’s not true.”

Yes! Our boy Ranboo! Our boy!

Protect our boy.

Techno sighed. He blinked hard, shaking his head again, trying to focus on his own internal monologue. 

“Phil?” He called. 

“Otherside!” Phil called. Trudging over through the snow, using the pole for support, Techno made his way up to the steps of the bridge, over them, and over to the opposite banister. He saw Phil, who had an armful of firewood, making his way back across the field from behind his own cabin. Phil stopped short of the stairs as he saw Techno.

“What’s happenin’?” Techno said, smiling. 

“Hm? Just firewood.” Phil gestured with the bundle in his arms. “What’s happening with you?”

“Just teaching Ranboo sword tricks.”

“Ah, sounds eventful.” Phil came up the stairs, moving past Techno to drop the bundle onto the small woodpile already present.

“More or less,” Techno said. “He’s doubting what he can do, though.”

“Mm,” Phil hummed in acknowledgement. He bumped Techno’s shoulder with his own. “He’s too humble, eh? Or is he holding back?”

“Maybe,” Techno folded his hands under his chin. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” Phil turned, looking through the cabin windows. “Maybe you won’t know.” 

“Heh?”

Phil stepped away from Techno, moving inside the cabin. As the door began to shut, he propped it open with one foot. Techno pulled away from the banister, moving to follow Phil through the door.

“What do you mean I won’t know?” Techno reiterated. “I’ll know if he’s any good once he’s done training.”

Phil shook his head. He had moved into the foyer, unclasping his coat and ruffling out his feathers as he did. He stretched, sighing in relief.

“I’m saying that the more faith in him you have the more faith he’ll have in himself.”

Techno huffed. “Well, I guess ,”

“Mm,” Phil nodded, smiling to himself. “And here I was getting shit from you for being worried.”

Techno gaped, floundering for a moment before he caught himself. “I am not worried , I’m fulfilling my duty as a teacher . A mentor , Philza.”

“A mentor?”

“Yes, Philza, a mentor.” 

Phil moved to put the kettle on, pushing around old embers and half burnt wood in the stove. He felt Techno’s eyes still on him, sharp and impatient, peering holes into the back of his skull, desperate to know his thoughts. That thought alone made Phil laugh to himself.

“Enjoy your mentor-training arc while it lasts, then,” he joked. He heard Techno grumble behind him and smiled.

The training continued sporadically for the next few weeks. Ranboo would trek over every other day, sword in hand. He met Techno, more often than not, already outside, sheepishly. Techno would pack up whatever he had been working on—lately, it was expanding the dog pen—and let Ranboo have at it with the wooden sword they’d fashioned. It was Phil’s idea. Better to get used to the feel of the sword now that he has the movements down , Phil had mentioned.  

Comparatively, Ranboo was lithe and tall and agile on his feet. Techno had assumed it was a byproduct of hybridization and general skittishness, but as they had fought, noticed that it had become deliberate. Ranboo was speed, not power, agility, not knockback. And Techno had changed his pace to suit it. Knowing well that Ranboo would likely favor a sword, even a trident, over the axe he himself preferred, he had worked to hone an element of quickness to Ranboo’s movement. They fought the same way, with the same calculated movement, until the patterns became clear. Then, training became a dance, rather than a strategic play-by-play. And quite frankly, it wasn’t until almost a month after, that Techno realized that he was training himself just as much as he was training Ranboo. 

Too long, he realized, had he been using brute force over the flexibility that a sword brought. Sure, the agility was applied in any case, but swordwork was an unexpected art and—

Techno blinked, watching Ranboo and Tubbo from the upstairs window. He had been comparing sword fighting to art, again, he thought, and pulled a face. Even if it were true in some senses, he was beginning to sound like an elitist. Phil had chastised him on that earlier, but he knew that both he and Phil fought the same way. It works, why change it ?

Ranboo and Tubbo had moved to a clear patch in the snow and Techno watched them stamp the fresh snow flat together. Hearing them laugh to themselves, he saw them ready matching wooden swords. Each hilt had a bit of cloth tied around the handle, both blades battered. They swung out at each other, laughing and name calling as they did. Techno smiled.

He noted, however, that, where Ranboo was agile, Tubbo was just...fast. He was smaller, swung shorter and quicker. Nothing was calculated, or, at least wasn’t calculated in the same way Techno would calculate anything. But the little bureaucrat was swinging quickly and swinging to break ankles. It was a little terrifying.

Today, satisfied with the furthered work on the fencing for the dog pen, Technoblade had decided Ranboo was trustworthy enough to spar with a real blade. Calling Ranboo over from across the field, Ranboo had wasted no time quickly made his way over. He had been reconstructing the outside panelling of his home, but had quickly departed at request. Cloak billowing behind him, Ranboo had shuffled to a halt in the snow in front of Techno. He unsheathed the netherite sword, blackened and etched in fine blue runes. Techno was almost impressed. The blade was enchanted several times over and served more than well in any night-time mob skirmish, Ranboo explained, bubbling with excitement. As he held it out for Techno to see, the blade cast off the faintest blue tint.

It reminded Techno of the blue blade he himself had cast, now purple with power and age. He had not brought that blade with him today. Instead, he had brought an older, heavier iron sword, a nicked blade, but sturdy, and formed a heavy point at the tip. It, too, glowed with age, but blue, rather than purple.

Both blades caught the morning light as they met with a resounding clang of metal.

Ranboo parried a downward slash delivered in the split seconds after and flung Techno’s sword into the snow. He pointed his blade, which glittered with sharpness, at Techno for a moment. Techno’s eyes were wide in surprise and he watched the sun off the blade, off the platemail chest plate Ranboo had pulled on. Then, Ranboo dropped his arms. He sighed, letting his body sag.

“I just caught you off guard, didn’t I?”

Techno bent to retrieve the old iron sword, brushing off the snow. Ranboo had moved back, ten paces away from him. He studied the blade in his hands, turning it over as he spoke to Techno. His voice was tight.

“I was doing so well, but the only reason I’m winning is because you’re not paying attention.” he said. Ranboo balled his fists at his sides, gripping the sword tightly.

“I know I haven’t been focused much lately,” Techno said. “But that doesn’t mean you haven’t gotten better. You’re gettin’ faster and more perceptive at the least, and you’ve got power and accuracy with the blade as a given.”

Ranboo readied himself, sword in both hands, before he dropped his stance again. He shook his head. Turning away from Techno, he tucked the sword back against his hip. He spoke over his shoulder, folding his arms.

“I just don’t see the point in training if I haven’t gotten any better.”

Techno stuck his sword into the snow, striking frozen soil. He pressed his palms together as he moved toward Ranboo. He lingered, stomach knotted uncomfortably, a foot or so away from Ranboo.

“Hey, c’mon, you know that’s not true.”

“It is true, I’m not seeing the point of any of this.”

“You’ve gotten faster,” Techno tried. “I saw you and Tubbo the other day out here, I’m not makin’ this up.” He spread his hands in defeat, taking in a long, bated breath. Ranboo waved his hands, back still turned.

“But it’s not working , I need to be good at what I do to protect people, and I can’t do that like this.”

“This isn’t all for not, it takes time.”

“I don’t have time!” Ranboo turned on his heel, whipping around to meet Techno. 

Techno flinched.

But Ranboo continued. He fisted his hands at his sides.

“I have to protect them. I have to! And I can’t! Not like this.” Ranboo turned away, his voice warbling. He took in a long, halted breath. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m done.”

“Ranboo...” Techno protested, finally reaching out to touch his arm.

But Ranboo had already begun to walk away. Techno watched him square his shoulders, arms folding around himself as he stepped over and through the gates. He did not turn around to meet Techno’s gaze as he entered his home across the field.

Techno stood alone in the snow, his throat raw, and his eyes burning.

Chapter Text

Technoblade sunk down in a heap by the fireplace. The flames licked the stone arch, festering around the charred wood, giving off the familiar scent of oak smoke and charcoal. He sat for a long moment, letting the numb feeling pool in him. It was physical at first. He had stayed in the snow, watching, hoping Ranboo would reemerge from his cabin, hoping he would come back to the clearing despite knowing he wouldn’t. Not for days, weeks, who knew how long. But as his fingers regained feeling and color, the numbness manifested elsewhere. The burning sensations in his throat and eyes faded to a painful throb at his temples. So he stared into the flames, listening to the crackling it gave off as it ate at the wood.

Philza’s voice caught his attention, but did not divert it.

“Hey, Tech,” Phil said softly. Techno heard him walk to the armchair in the living area, but no further. Techno hummed in acknowledgement. 

“You alright?”

Another hum.

“If something’s on your mind, it’s better to say it than not. You know I do.”

“He’s done with my help.” Techno finally said. Phil made a questioning sound, but cut himself off halfway with a small oh , just audible over the fire.

“I’m sorry, Techno.”

“‘s fine,” Techno managed. He barely hid the crack of his voice. In fact, he must not have hid it at all, because he heard Phil’s footsteps move into the room, until he was beside him, a hand resting on the crown of his head. Where his crown would be. He had left it, his cloak, his sword, his shoes, everything from outside, in a heap by the stairs. He hurt too much to move any further.

“Remember when I said I was gettin’ attached?”

Phil hummed in acknowledgement. “Yeah.”

“Does that get any easier?”

Briefly, he felt Phil’s hand leave his head, before he saw Phil crouch down to sit beside him. He watched him shift in his peripheral, hand moving to take Techno’s instead. Phil sat quiet for a moment, watching the flames with an uncharacteristic somberness. 

“Not really,” Phil said. “It’s not a bad thing, though.”

Techno’s eyes drifted to him.

“He’s worried about somethin’, Phil,” Techno said, his voice low and heavy. “I don’t know what it is, I don’t know how to help him.” 

Phil turned after a moment, tucking the hair falling into Techno’s face behind his ear. He watched Techno’s expression as he spoke.

“And you’re worried about him.”

“I...” Techno shut his eyes. “I’m worried he’s gonna do somethin’ stupid.”

“Ranboo’s capable,” Phil said, but the sentence faltered as Techno shook his head.

“‘s not that,” Techno said. “I don’t want somethin’ happenin’ to him. He’s afraid of somethin’ and I don’t want whatever that is to hurt him. I can’t let the same thing that happened to me happen to him. He needs protection, Phil, he—” 

Techno stopped short, drawing in a quick breath. He ducked his head, looking away from Phil and away from the fire. He sat for a moment, holding Phil’s hand tightly in his own. When he turned back to speak, he blinked, hard and fast. His voice bowed.

“I don’t know what to do, Phil, I’m scared .”

Phil’s heart plummeted. 

All at once, he gathered Techno into his arms, pulling him down and to him. Techno sank into him, head tucked in the curve of his neck. Techno took a shaky breath in, hands braced against Phil’s shoulder blades, Phil’s hands making smooth movements down his spine. He felt his insides shatter and nearly break into a million pieces in Phil’s hands. Each breath was short and incomplete, and the sound he made was compressed. He could not bring himself to crack completely. And it hurt, to hold back the sobs in his chest, to know that he was doing no more than clutching to Phil like a lifeline. Even now, the facade remained.

Philza cradled him, speaking softly as he did. A mantra against Technoblade’s shoulder that he felt more than heard. Phil held him in this embrace until he felt the numbness overtake him again, his head spinning. He fell slack against Phil.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, Phil.”

“No, Tech, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Techno screwed his eyes shut as another roll of panic overtook him. He held steady and prayed to whoever was listening that Phil wouldn’t let go. Not yet.

“I don’t know what to do, Phil,” Techno managed, voice tearful.

“I don’t know either. But he’s going to be okay.”

Ranboo sat in the cabin on the border of Snowchester. Now clear of snow, from his shoes and coat and hair, he sat near the fireplace, desperate to warm his hands. Nearby, Tubbo was amusing Michael, a box of crayons sat between them. Ranboo sighed, watching the fireplace, mesmerized by the flames. It was almost a moment of deja vu, but Tubbo’s voice snapped him out of it.

“What’re you thinking about, bossman?” he said. “You’ve been staring at the fire for, like, twenty minutes now.”

“I’m still trying to warm up my hands,” Ranboo supplied. He stuck his hands in front of him, wriggling his fingers. “It’s not the most efficient way, I’ll say.”

Tubbo shook his head, snorting in amusement. After a moment, he put down his crayons, satisfied with his portion of the drawing. Ranboo couldn’t see from where he was sitting, but Michael continued diligently. 

“I can tell you’re thinking about something,” Tubbo said. He moved over from where he was standing. He plopped down next to Ranboo by the fire, crossing his legs. He tapped Ranboo’s temple. “You’ve got gears turning up here.”

“I do?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.” Ranboo smiled. “Yeah, I trust you on that.”

They sat together, watching a log turn over itself in the fireplace. The heat was finally beginning to seep through Ranboo’s hands more readily. He rubbed them together in vain.

“So, what’re you thinking about?” Tubbo asked. 

Ranboo sighed. Gesturing to Ranboo, Tubbo took both his hands, pressing them between his own.

“Techno and I had a fight.”

“What, like a spar?”

“No, no,” Ranboo frowned, shaking his head to dismiss the comment. “An actual fight. And I hate it. I hate that I...and, I couldn’t tell him it was because I’m afraid I’ll never be strong enough to protect you and Michael but,” Ranboo laughed, but the sound was forced. “I guess that’s true.”

“Ranboo!” Tubbo said, taken aback. “Ranboo Beloved, that is the worst lie I’ve ever heard, you know that, right?”

“Tubbo, come on, you know I’m not lying here.”

Tubbo gave his hands a squeeze, his confused expression still written across his face.

“You are the only person I trust to take care of me and Michael, besides myself,” he said, a surety ringing strong in his voice. “Obviously Technoblade saw that, too.” Ranboo glanced away, heat rising to his face.

“Except he doesn’t know about Michael,” Ranboo corrected, grimacing.

“Besides that,” Tubbo said. 

“I guess,” Ranboo said. “I guess I just don’t understand why he did it in the first place.”

Tubbo hummed. For a moment, they sat, hands conjoined. 

“Ranboo do you remember when you and Blade first started working together? You went out and you gave him that axe, and then you built a house on his land, and went totem hunting, and...”

“I remember all of those vaguely, a little bit,” Ranboo feigned. He tried to recall in which book he would’ve written his adventures out with Techno. Or if Techno had seen him scribbling in the first place. He dismissed the thought with a shake of his head.

“Do you think he would just do that with anyone?” Tubbo asked.

Ranboo looked at Tubbo. Through his bangs, Tubbo stared at him inquisitively, eyes glinting—he already knew the answer to that question.

“No,” Ranboo said.

“And why do you think that is?”

“Because he doesn’t trust anyone else? Tubbo, I don’t know.” Ranboo exhaled heavily, setting his jaw. 

“Because he cares about you, maybe? You got the world’s most uncaring man to care about you?”

“I wouldn’t say uncaring,” Ranboo said. 

“That doesn’t matter, if he cares enough about you to train you, which I’ve never seen him do with anyone else, that means something, Ranboo.”

Tubbo let go of Ranboo’s hands, which Ranboo pulled into his lap, fidgeting with the end of his tail. He flicked it back and forth as the pit in his stomach grew more and more unbearable. He shut his eyes.

“Ranboo, can you look at me for a second?” 

Ranboo felt Tubbo’s hands, two very warm hands, against his face, holding his cheeks and he could not help but smile reflexively. He opened his eyes. Tubbo was staring up at him, eyes darting across his face.

“I know that you don’t think you can help people, even though you say it’s your duty to,” Tubbo began. He paused to take in a breath, worrying his cheek as he chose his words. “But I have never met someone so dedicated to helping people, to checking in on his friends, to caring so much that he was willing to train for weeks ,” Tubbo shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “I mean, Ranboo, come on , that’s impressive!”

Taking a moment to let the words settle over Ranboo, Tubbo stared over Ranboo’s shoulder. He felt Ranboo lean into one palm, and spoke again, looking back over.

“You, of all people, are the most qualified to train with Blade. Obviously he thinks the same thing. And I mean what I said.”

Ranboo sighed. Shutting his eyes, he tried with difficulty to swallow the lump in his throat.

“Thanks, Tubbo,” he said and his voice wobbled ever so as he spoke. Tubbo must have noticed, because he squeezed Ranboo’s face in his hands, snickering at the expression he made. He pulled Ranboo down, knocking their foreheads together.

“Would I lie to you, bossman?”

“Maybe,” Ranboo said. He smiled.

Tubbo shook his head.

“Never, never ever would I.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

Tubbo matched his grin, patting his cheeks before he let go.

“You should.”

As the two separated, knees still touching, Ranboo sighed. He cast a glance into the fire, tilting his head as he ran through his thoughts. The knot in his stomach had dissipated ever so, but he still turned over and over the proposition of returning. Of facing whatever consequence his words had made. His fear had done more than overtake him at that moment. He winced.

“I think I should apologize to him,” he said after a moment, speaking into the fire. Tubbo hummed.

“If it’ll make you feel better.”

“It would.” Ranboo turned back to Tubbo. “I don’t know if I could live with myself if I didn’t.”

“Are you going to go back to train?”

Ranboo frowned. “Maybe. Maybe one more. Maybe.”

Tubbo shrugged. “One more couldn’t hurt.” He smiled as a thought came to him. “One last Technoblade-Ranboo showdown.”

Ranboo shook his head, laughing to himself. “Yeah, yeah, something like that.” His smile faded as he continued to think. “I think I just want to show him that I can. And myself, I guess.” He looked down at his hands before he looked back over at Tubbo. “I’m afraid to, but I have to. Techno’s right, I can’t just let it all be for not.”

“Yeah,” Tubbo agreed. He met Ranboo’s eye for a moment before he watched the flames in the fireplace.  “I think that’s a good idea.”

Halfway across the arctic, stewing over a cup of tea, Techno decided his approach. An apology was the first priority. And, after, if Ranboo felt up for it, once last spar. His last, if he so chose. It was a show of honor, a living testament that his work wasn’t for nothing. Techno knew Ranboo could prove himself, if only he could gather the faith to do it.

Chapter Text

Ranboo met Philza outside his cabin not long after Ranboo had arrived from Snowchester. He had his coat pulled tight around him and a plate in both hands. He seemed startled as Ranboo opened the door, likely much quicker than he had expected and smiled as Ranboo stepped out to meet him.

“Hey, mate, I didn’t know if you’d be home or not.”

“I ah, I just got back, actually,” Ranboo explained. “What’s going on?” He gestured to the plate, which Phil passed to him

“Made some bread,” Phil said proudly. He beamed as Ranboo inspected, eyebrows raised. “And,” he continued. “I wanted to check in and see how you were feeling. I know it’s been a few days, but...” Phil trailed off, glancing off into the tundra.

Ranboo glanced across the yard, then down at the plate, before he spoke. 

“I’m alright,” he said, then corrected himself. “I’m better.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Is...” Ranboo paused. He wanted so desperately to ask, but the words stuck in his throat. He fussed with the plate in his hands as Phil looked back at him.

“He’s alright, Ranboo, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” Ranboo said, voice coming much softer than expected. Phil reached out to place a hand on Ranboo’s shoulder, patting down the fur of his coat. 

“Look, if you...” Phil hesitated, looking down. “If you want to stop by, you’re still welcome to. Just because you’ve had a little bit of a disagreement doesn’t mean you’re not welcome.” He gave Ranboo’s shoulder a squeeze before he let go. “It’s my house, too.”

Ranboo’s ears perked up as Phil spoke.

“Yeah,” Ranboo agreed. “I also think I should apologize.”

Phil shook his head.

“Ranboo, I’m sure he—”

Ranboo put up a hand to stop Phil. “No, I...It’s my fault, and it’s what I should do regardless.”

Phil shrugged.

“You’re welcome to stop by this afternoon, if you like?”

“That would be nice, thank you, Phil.”

“Of course.”

As Philza turned back toward his and Technoblade’s cabin, Ranboo swore he saw a flit of red against the snow. When he blinked, squinting against the breeze that had picked up, it was gone. He frowned, made a confused sound, before he turned. 

As he stepped into his house, he slipped the coat from his shoulders. Ranboo settled the plate in the main space, on a stack of books propped up as a makeshift table. No matter how delicately he organized the room, it would no doubt turn into a wreckage sight, knowing him. So every item had many homes. Musing over a slice of bread, Ranboo wandered upstairs and into his room.

Beside his bed was another stack of books, these neatly tucked away in their chest, soft brown leather covers and glued bookmarks. He had spent many a day punching pages with Phil, who had been working on expanding a rather large library of his own. Opening the chest, Ranboo rifled through the stacks, finally coming across a worn, slightly bent book. The book was thick with added pages, nearly coming undone at the seam and unlikely to snap back shut if he opened it. Unwinding the fastener, Ranboo sank to a seat on the bed, letting the book fall open in his lap.

Technoblade and I decided to hunt blazes for sport . A brief image of Techno and him in the Nether flashed in front of Ranboo’s eyes, Techno brandishing the largest battle axe Ranboo had ever seen. The Axe of Peace . We stopped to trade with some of the Piglin, Techno mentioned it was lucky we had gold, otherwise he would have had to employ some forceful diplomacy . Again, the image, but of Techno chatting idly with another Piglin, a handful of gold in one palm. He gestured to a set of ender eyes the Piglin was carrying and spoke in a sharp, guttural language that faded from Ranboo’s memory as soon as it arrived.

He blinked.

He knew Tubbo had been telling the truth, but he felt a pang of anxiety pass over him. He knew Technoblade as his mentor, as someone he could trust, and subsequently, had wanted to be trained by him, trusted that it would make him stronger. If Techno said it, couldn’t he take his word as law? When Techno said he had understood Ranboo, did he?

Ranboo shut the book. 

As with most things he knew Techno for, he knew he was one to trust the process.

Techno watched as Phil walked back to the cabins empty handed, reaching to hold his hat firmly on his head as a breeze picked up. He met eyes with Ranboo briefly from his vantage on the bridge, where he ducked back behind the panelling.

Boo. Coward .

Techno gritted his teeth, feeling the bubbling of doubt build in his stomach. He swallowed as it grew painful. Peeking out, he saw Phil, again, closer now, but no Ranboo. 

“Trust the process,” Technoblade told himself. He wondered how much that was true.

Phil spoke as he mounted the stairs and moved up to the bridge.

“He wants to stop by.”

Techno nodded. “Okay, yeah, I don’t see why not.”

“He wants to come and apologize,” Phil continued.

“What?” Techno spluttered. He blinked several times, shaking his head. “No, it’s not his fault. I’m not even mad at him, I know he didn’t...I know he’s not a man of conflict.”

Phil bowed his head, spreading his hands in a placading gesture. “I know, I told him that, but he’s adamant, Tech.”

“I...” Techno sighed through his nose. “Alright, if he wants to.”

“In the meantime,” Phil began, stepping down the stairs on the other side and out onto the front yard. Techno watched as he tred onto the field, shoes sinking slightly into the fresh, white snow. “Might be good for us to clear the rest of this ice, especially if you still want that extension. It looks like it might snow again.”

Wearily, Techno came down the stairs after him, picking up a wide brimmed shovel that he had left from two days prior.

“Already on my way,” he said, and struck down into the snow.

Not more than twenty minutes had passed before Technoblade and Philza, overcoats now forgotten as they worked to clear snow from the northeast corner of the cabin, saw Ranboo. He stood at the banister of the bridge, facing the front. Beside him, at his shoulder, stood Tubbo. He waved as Phil saw him and Phil lifted a hand in response. Both were dressed in heavy coats and Ranboo held a black sheath in both hands. When he caught Phil’s eye, he nodded.

Phil spoke over his shoulder at Techno, who had plunged his shovel into the ice with a puff of fresh snow billowing up.

“He’s stopped by early.”
“Heh?”

Techno turned, furrowing his brow. He saw Ranboo, who was looking down at Tubbo. He turned back to Phil with a start.

“Philza, I...” he said. He looked pained.

Phil leaned toward him. “Mate, he came over here to see you, I know he’s not upset.”

“Yeah, okay.” Techno unstuck his shovel, carrying it with him as he moved to take up his coat. He swung it around his shoulders, holding the shovel aloft as he moved over to the bridge, Phil in towe. Phil spoke for them as they stopped at the bridge, looking up at Tubbo and Ranboo.

“Good timing, boys, we just finished clearing out some snow.”

“I wanted to come later but Ranboo insisted we come early,” said Tubbo, giving Ranboo a nudge. Ranboo winced, his tail waving in long, nervous arcs. 

When Phil smiled, the arc slowed. “No worries, we pretty much expected it.”

As Phil was talking, Techno had made his way up the bridge and into his cabin. There, he rifled through a standing chest for a moment, picking up the heavy, iron blade he had been using before with Ranboo. He looked it over, the short stack of runes, a reminder of a time long since past, looking up at him. He met his own eyes in his reflection and lowered the blade. He sheathed it. Stepping back out onto the bridge, Ranboo saw the sword in his hands.

“You don’t have to use that one,” Ranboo said, turning to him. 

Technoblade stuck the blade-in-sheath under his arm, moving to unhook the one already knotted at his waist “Whaddaya mean? I was usin’ it before.”

“I know, but I want this to be fair.”

“Fair?”

Ranboo gestured with his blade, the netherite sword.

“Netherite for netherite. The speed on your iron sword is lower. I want it to be fair.” The hint of a smile entered Ranboo’s voice. Techno snorted.

“Alright,” he set the iron sword against the banister, retying the leather fastener of the netherite sword. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” 

Ranboo followed as Techno went down the steps and out into the front yard. He again pulled his cloak from his shoulders, sure that he had dressed appropriately, or enough to placate Phil. Philza and Tubbo sat, where they had a few times before, on the cabin steps, watching as the two readied themselves.

“Ranboo,” Techno said, pulling his arms back and around to stretch them. Ranboo paused mid stretch, arms out in front of him and fingers laced together. He tilted his head in question, a more excitable demeanor about him, but Techno had watched as his tail continued to flick back and forth.

Techno continued. “I’m not mad. You don’t have to prove yourself to me, you know that, yeah?”

Ranboo finished stretching over his head, giving his head a shake as he did. “You were right when you said things take time,” he said. “I just...I have to know I can do this, at least once, fair and square.”

“God I wish you didn’t sound like me,” Techno said.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s a double edged sword.”

Ranboo stood at attention, the black blade in his hand reflecting the light. It glittered, casting the dark purple sheen from its body. In the same way, Techno’s blue enchantments glowed back at him, calling out the name of the near deadly blade. 

“You’re sure about this?” Techno asked.

“I’m sure.”

“Alright,” he squared his shoulders. “Match set point, then.”

Techno sped forward, pulling his blade in a sharp, upward arc. Ranboo blocked with the near hilt of his blade, doing the same as Techno spun, bringing the blade back around to the left. Ranboo sidestepped to sweep his sword in a backhand swing, which Techno nearly missed all together. He caught it at the last second, a resounding clang echoing through the front yard. They met at a stalemate, blades in a sharp X.

Ranboo stepped back to break it, watching the sword in Technoblade’s hands. Ranboo moved to swipe up, and when their blades bounced off each other, he pushed back. Techno stumbled, but stood fast. He swept a foot out, knocking into Ranboo’s shins. Ranboo stuttered his movement, falling back onto one knee. As he did, Techno swung overhead, a large, shining arc, which Ranboo barely blocked. He pressed back against the blade with one arm. Using the momentum, he locked the blades in an X again, trying to parry. Neither blade fell, but both dislodged—another stalemate. As the two circled each other, Techno spoke.

“You’re reacting instead of predicting.”

“I’m doing both,” Ranboo retorted. 

He spun, slashing a backhanded, rightward swing, reinforcing the hilt with his other hand as he hit the side of Techno’s blade. Techno shifted down, dislodging Ranboo’s stance, but Ranboo swung again, a diagonal, and again, in the same pattern.

“You’ve got the speed to win, Ranboo,” Techno said, arcing a downward strike. Ranboo sidestepped away from the blade. “Use it!”

Twirling the blade once over, Ranboo struck again, and again, from the left, again from the right. He pushed back hard as Techno blocked and followed in pursuit, nearly swinging out an arm to force him away. 

Ranboo was quick to disengage as Techno swung again, ducking under the blades as they met in a T shape. But Ranboo did not expect another quick slash to the left. Techno spun, disconnecting the two blades, swinging with all intention to force Ranboo’s hand. He arced the blade, and the sun glinted off the Obliterator as it cut through the air.

As the blade sliced through the space in front of him, Ranboo was not standing there. Instead, a handful of small, shimmering, purple particles were. 

“Checkmate.”

Techno looked over one shoulder, turning slowly as he saw the sharp point of Ranbalt at eye level. Ranboo stood, breathing heavily, staring Techno down from the other side of the sword. 

“Yeah,” Techno echoed. “Checkmate.”

He held up a hand, sheathing his blade. Ranboo waited until he had done so to lower the point of the blade and sheath it at his hip. As soon as he did, he wobbled. Techno reached out instinctually, holding fast to Ranboo’s shoulders. Ranboo grabbed his arm, steadying himself. He lowered his head, swaying as Techno held him up.

Philza and Tubbo, halfway through a cheer, halted as they saw Ranboo stumble. Phil rose, Tubbo close in towe, jogging the short distance over to the two. 

Ranboo shook his head slowly, holding up his hand.

“I’m alright.”

Ranboo glanced up as Phil and Tubbo joined him. His face contorted and he shut his eyes, lowering his head again. Phil placed a hand on his back and Tubbo took residence at his other side. He also held fast to Ranboo’s arm.

“Ranboo,” he said. “Did you just...”

“I don’t know what I just did.”

Techno glanced back to where Ranboo once was, the small puff of purple particles dissipating rapidly. From Ranboo, his clothes, his hair, several particles drifted away. Ranboo still clutched to Technoblade, bracing himself. 

“Ranboo, you...” Techno began.

“You teleported, mate.” Phil finished, voice matching the same awe that rang through Techno’s.

Ranboo brough his head up slowly, looking over the group.

“Huh?”

“Ranboo!” Tubbo patted his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Ranboo blinked slowly. One of his hands unclasped from Techno’s arm as he straightened slightly. He pressed the back of it against his forehead.

“I didn’t know,” he said, dumbfounded.

“Do you know what this means?” Techno said. He inclined his head, helping Ranboo to a full stand. When he was there, he smoothed the shoulders of his jacket, patting it down. Ranboo finally let go of Techno’s arm with a pronounced hesitance. The three stayed huddled for a moment as Ranboo collected his thoughts.

“Uhh, what?”

Techno clapped his shoulder.

“We have to capitalize on this immediately! This is total ‘main character’ energy, Ranboo!”

Ranboo smiled.

“Uhh, I don’t know about that.”

“No, it totally is,” Techno said. “No pearls, just you teleportin’ like a true enderman.”

Ranboo’s smile stayed as he looked over at Techno. For a brief moment, however, it was replaced with a pained expression. 

“That would be cool, but I think I might be sick.”

Ranboo faltered again, reaching out both hands to whoever would catch him. It was Techno. Bracing his arms against Techno’s for the second time, Techno moved to wrap one arm around Ranboo’s back. Tubbo found his other side, Ranboo’s hand clasped in both of his.

“Alright, alright, let’s get you inside,” Techno chided. 

Ranboo nodded, hand now braced on Technoblade’s shoulder. He shuffled up the steps, taking in a long deep breath as he reached the landing.

“We’ll get you sat and I’ll put the kettle on, the cold’s no good for you.” Phil said, looking the three of them over. Techno patted Ranboo’s back absently as they wandered in. After a moment of standing together, Ranboo detached himself.

“I think I’m okay,” he said, letting out a shaky sigh. 

“You think so?” Tubbo said. He was still at Ranboo’s side, looking up at him, arms crossed.

“Yeah, I just need to sit down. I...I still don’t know how that happened.”

Stepping away from Techno, Ranboo, with Tubbo following, moved into the kitchen.

Techno watched the two converse with Phil. He smiled, hearing only the faint murmur of conversation from the three of them. He saw Phil laugh, saw him smile as he passed over a cup to Ranboo. Techno took a moment to collect his things from beside the door, trekking up the stairs to store them. As he returned to the first floor, Phil met him at the stair, cup in hand—tea. Techno took it, the smile still playing on his face.

Ranboo was still nursing a cup of cocoa when Techno settled next to him at the hearth. Ranboo watched Techno from his peripheral, instead studying the room around him, as if he had not been there hundreds of times.

“I should tell Phil thanks for the drink,” Ranboo said, gesturing with the cup, holding it in both hands. He was staring down into it as he sat. Techno did the same. He knew it better than to push Ranboo into eye contact, especially when he himself found it difficult to maintain, even with Philza.

Techno hummed.

The two sat together in the living area, holding hot drinks, in silence. In the background, they could hear Phil and Tubbo in the kitchen, presumably reheating milk and water. Techno overheard the sound of dishes, of plates being rearranged. He smiled to himself. The two stayed quiet together until Techno spoke. Until Ranboo and Techno spoke at the same time.

“Ranboo—”

“Techno—”

Ranboo looked up, startled. Techno gestured to him, go ahead .

Ranboo cleared his throat and took a long sip.

“Techno I...know you probably don’t think I have to do this. But I wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said. For shouting. And, thank you. You were right.”

Techno sighed. “You don’t have anythin’ to apologize for, Ranboo. I...” Techno looked away from his cup, up through the window. Anything to not see Ranboo’s face from the corner of his eye. “I put a lot on you, tryin’ to make sure you were safe. I was tryin’ to protect you, I could tell you were scared of somethin’, I just didn’t know what.” 

Finally turning back to his drink and taking a sip, Technoblade noticed that Ranboo was looking at him. He met his eyes briefly. Ranboo’s gaze wavered.

“I think I was afraid I wouldn’t be good enough for you to train me.”

“Wha—” Techno scoffed. “Ranboo, I wouldn’t’ve offered it if I thought that.”

“I know, I just...I have to protect people, too,” Ranboo swallowed, taking another sip. Techno watched him, noticing him blinking hard and fast. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get there in time.”

“Ranboo,” Techno reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. Ranboo looked up. “You will, and you can, and—”

Techno was cut off as Ranboo moved forward, wrapping his arms around Techno. He hunched forward, chin resting on Techno’s shoulder. 

“Thank you, Techno.” Ranboo said, his voice strained.

Techno felt his heart sink. He put his arms around Ranboo’s torso, patting his back. 

“Thank you , Ranboo.” Techno said. “I understand if you don’t wanna keep doin’ this, but I’m not leaving you out to dry. I made you that promise, and I intend to keep it.”

“No, I...” Ranboo sighed, and Techno felt just a little tension leave him. “I do.”

“Plus,” Techno added. “I think the thing you’re tryin’ to protect can pretty much shatter ankles on impact.”

Techno felt Ranboo laugh.

“Well,” Ranboo said. “One of them anyway.”

Techno frowned, pulling back a fraction. “Huh?”

Before Techno could get an answer to his question, he saw Tubbo at the entryway to the living area. He began to pull back from Ranboo as he saw Tubbo enter. 

“Hey, Ranboo, I was thinking—aww!” 

Techno held Ranboo at arm's length, face immediately sour. Ranboo laughed. He reached up to wipe under his eyes, which shone in the firelight. 

“Sorry,” Tubbo said sheepishly. “Did I interrupt a bonding moment?”

“What?” Techno looked incredulous. “No, not even close.”

“Ehh, I don’t know about that one, Blade.”

Techno folded his arms as the two boys exchanged glances, still giggling to themselves. Tubbo made his way over to the couch and sat. Ranboo reached out, offering his hand, which Tubbo took. He smiled, and Ranboo matched it. 

Philza wandered in behind Tubbo, holding a cup in his hands. Techno squinted at him as he sat in the armchair.

“Bonding moment?” Phil asked, eyebrows raising. He lifted his cup, taking a drink, watching Techno over the lip.

“What about it?” Techno said. Phil barely restrained a smile. Techno’s face felt hot, even as he moved back from the fireplace.

“Not still worried about gettin’ attached, eh, Technoblade?”

“You’re one to talk, Philza Minecraft.”

From the couch, Tubbo snorted. The sound morphed into a full on laugh. Ranboo followed suit, until the two were nearly doubled over, giggling to themselves. Phil watched, a smile still playing on his face. Techno looked over at Ranboo as he laughed. A warm sensation filled his chest.

As Phil and Techno met eyes, Techno blinked.

Ah .

Now he knew. Every time Phil had watched Wilbur and Tommy battle it out. Every time their arctic home was covered in flowers and shiny rocks. Every time they had found a book to read or a meal to cook or a cave to explore together, even at 15, 16, 17. Each story Phil had told him of these moments, a mournful tone in his voice, and what he himself had witnessed, Techno understood why. But now he really understood. As he watched Ranboo lean against the couch arm, batting at Tubbo as their laughter petered out, he knew.

He would do anything to keep that smile safe.