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An ornate chandelier fixated on the ceiling, lights glaring down on the ballroom. Women were battling like lions', corsets tighter with each duchess or countess who waltzed in, intricate embroidery adorning the berthe of their gowns.
The men clumped together in groups, developing political partners and participating in more front-on warfare instead of psychological like their wives. The alcohol was gripped between their fingers, laughing like the fake sycophants they were.
Music wafted through the air, nobles waltzing around through the middle of the room. Dazzling furniture was displayed for everybody to gawk at, the critics of the crowd muttering about the royal family's picturesque decor.
Technoblade leaned up against the throne his associate was seated. A vermillion cloak was draped around Technoblade's shoulders, falling down and barely above the ground as it swayed with each breath he took.
"Your son seems to be enjoying himself." Technoblade hummed, the glass of red liquid that people who glanced over desperately hoped was just wine hitting his lips.
"I'm sorry about leaving him with you for so long, but it's quite entertaining to see you babysit him." Phil replied with a chuckle, leaning his arm against the rest of the throne. He was gazing at something with warm eyes, and Technoblade didn't have to guess what or who it was.
Phil's eyes were drawn to the brunette mingling with a laugh on her face, friends of hers messing around and giggling like they had no cares in the world. Her dress stood out the most, jewelry glistening in the lights as a crown embroidered with the finest emeralds rested against her head. Queen Kristin, only recently married into the royal family, the stepmother to Wilbur, and had the blood of a commoner running through her veins.
So many people had been against the marriage of the two, but their love prevailed and they got married with the approval of the empire in the end. Quite a stunning story, and one that Technoblade got to witness first hand.
Phil always insisted it was Technoblade's turn to find love, be it romantic or domestic. Technoblade had grown up with the man, raised his child alongside him, seen him fall in love.
Technoblade would never admit that he did crave the feeling of affection, to have somebody to embrace during the long nights and run his hands through their hair. Somebody who was just his, who kept him awake at night and made his mind nag him, begging him to see their bright smile.
He wanted to feel the tender touch of fingertips against his cheek, the laugh of the one he loves as they wipe the sweat off of him with a handkerchief after a lengthy day of training. It didn't even need to be a wife, possibly a son or daughter.
Technoblade dismissed the last part, back when he played around with women for entertainment during his adolescence, he had to face the grueling reality that he could not have a child carrying his own blood.
He remembers sobbing in Phil's arms that night, he would never have a family of his own. Never live that life that so many nobles craved, never have an heir nor somebody to continue his legacy. Two teenagers sitting in the night, stars shining down and glistening, finding comfort in each other. That was the day where Phil, the prince, had promised that they'd make a family together.
A family they did make. Wilbur and Kristin and Phil and Technoblade, all a big royal family. Sure, Technoblade may not be their family in name and instead just known as their warrior, but even commoners could not deny how close-knit they were.
Was Technoblade greedy for wanting more?
"Phil, Kristin is your literal wife, just invite her to dance already you wimp." Technoblade teased the king who had been gawking at the queen's figure, the way she tossed her luscious tresses back behind her looking like he'd practically devour her. "I am one hundred percent sure she knows you're staring. She's gonna find it weird."
Phil let out a sigh, a smirk tugging on his face as he stood and careened through the ballroom, heading toward Kristin with a smug expression.
Technoblade's fingers gripped tighter against the stem of the wine glass like he was crushing the skull of an enemy. He headed away from the thrones and placed the glass on a plate a servant held in their hand that already housed multiple full glasses of wine as he passed by.
He walked through a large, open door that led to the gardens of the palace. He crossed many couples relishing in the aroma of roses and children running in blind joy and ecstasy around the fields nearby. Many adults halted when they saw him, nervously glancing the other way as to not lock eyes with him.
The wind flowed through his locks of hair as he undid the ribbon hurriedly, wrapping the ribbon around his wrist and allowing the flurry to blow wisps of hair out of its well-groomed form.
He leaned up against the railing of an overhang that was positioned on a cliff, the rough waters of the sea crashing into each other. Many bushes of flowers led up to where he stood, the piquant scent of buttercups gliding through the air like how a ballerina would glide on air during a routine.
The stars radiated just as brightly as they did the night he and Phil were teenagers, Technoblade spending a few moments to just admire the different patterns they made up. Constellations stretched through the sky, putting the warrior in a trance as he simply admired the night.
Technoblade didn't ignore how people distanced themselves from the man though, distanced themself from the sea, and scurried their children away from where he stood. They took themselves to different parts of the garden, in fear of provoking a rage in him.
Technoblade had grown used to that, how children quaked even being in the presence of him, wanting to faint and never get up. How adults whispered things behind hand fans, about how they both respected and feared him.
It wasn't discouraging to know people were scared of him, that was what he based his image upon after all, but as he stood there he wondered if this was the reason he couldn't have what Phil had.
Phil was the king nobody wanted dead, even the greediest of nobles did not plan on assassinating him anytime soon. He held festivals for his people, took down corruption, and helped the lands prosper. People talked about how Phil would most likely be marked down in history as the most esteemed and loved king in all of their land's history.
Nobody dared want him assassinated, he was a saint. The church cherished him as well, since he did not fight against their beliefs but also did not let them control him to an extent.
It was peaceful. The war was over, people were settling down, and more festivals and celebrations were being held with the riches they had amassed. Large amounts of land were acquired, slaves were taken in but not treated poorly, it was peaceful.
Those were the thoughts Technoblade had when looking up at the stars, how grateful he was for all the peace. How he wished he could be like Phil... Admired by the people. Sure, aspiring warriors worshipped him but it was different from how they worshipped Phil.
A small gasp broke him out of his thoughts, turning his head, puzzled by who dared to be so close to him.
A boy who looked to still be a teenager, a child, around fifteen at maximum. He was dressed in muted black servant attire with short sleeves, starry-eyed and adoring the view. The colors of the clothing he displayed conflicted with Technoblade's own cloak and blouse, his hair resembling the finest golden jewels one could ask for, messily cut to his shoulders.
Candles lit on surrounding garden tables illuminated his skin, blue eyes glistening and gleaming. Another rush of cold air passed the two, the boy practically shuddering as he held his arms close to him.
"Hello." Technoblade said, the boy immediately whipping his head toward him. The servant profiled him, going tense as he recognized Technoblade's iconic pink hair and cape.
Mutters sounded from all around them, ladies' faces shrouded by their hands as they whispered and pointed at the blonde. The men of the garden who were much less interested in gossip simply turned away, obviously praying for the boy.
They truly thought he'd kill a child, huh?
"Oh! Am I not supposed to be up here, fuck... I mean, sorry!" He blurted quickly, bowing. The boy had a vulgar mouth, Technoblade had to admit.
"Your job is to be attending to the guests. Don't waste your time having a nice field trip to the gardens, understood?" Technoblade reprimanded, arms crossed as he saw the boy nod multiple times. He was nervous, Technoblade could tell. "What's your name?"
"Tommy." The blonde stated, Technoblade clenching his teeth together as he remembered that servants most of the time were orphans. Unbearable orphan servants who begged for sympathy, trying to get in with the nobles and start affairs like the gold-diggers they were. Not all were like that of course, but the majority.
Technoblade wouldn't fall for that facade, it was obvious why this Tommy was here. To make Technoblade feel sympathetic and give him money or riches. His sparring partner, Jschlatt, might have fallen for that facade- taking in a commoner boy, but he wouldn't.
He saw how the boy shuddered as the breeze hit him though, the way his leg bounced impatiently as he glanced around, looking for someone it seemed.
"What's your favourite constelletion?" Technoblade asked, regretting the question as soon as it came out. How was an orphan to know anything about stars? A topic that was only really taught to nobles.
"What's a conse... Consetation?" Tommy inquired, tilting his head in curiosity. Now that Technoblade could see him clearer, the boy reminded Technoblade of buttercups in some strange way. Compared to the flowers around him, they really were quite similar.
"Stars, patterns of stars..." Technoblade explained, facing up to see the stars once more. "You see, if you look at those stars and imagine a line connecting them... That's a constelletion."
"Uh... Right..." Tommy replied awkwardly, stumbling back as he pointed towards the giant door leading to the ballroom down the path Technoblade had walked down previously. "I'm just gonna go..."
The boy scurried off as quickly as he came, and Technoblade couldn't help but wonder what the warm feeling plaguing his heart was. It devoured him, consumed him as it begged him to chase the boy down.
It demanded he serves a role as a protector, demanded that he dedicate his life to this boy he had just met. The feeling spoke in hushed whispers, covering all corners of his mind as his fingertips longed for a touch.
Everything seemed so much clearer, he could hear everything in so much more clarity. The way the trees swayed, leaves bustling, and water flowing down below. The laughter of noble children rang out, giggles of adults playing and repeating.
A gasp looped in his head, the gasp of the boy which had caught his attention in the first place.
Sometime later, people started to file back into the ballroom. It was getting late after all, hours since midnight had hit. All festivities must come to an end.
Technoblade entered the ballroom with them, eyes locking onto the figure of a familiar man, curls bouncing as he rushed toward Technoblade. For an adult, twenty years old for XD's sake, he ran so childishly. He had to be babysat too, not because he was dumb but because he was... Reckless.
"Where were you? I was going to introduce you to Nikki and Eret and you just... Poofed!" Wilbur exaggerated with his hands out, glasses resting against his face and a crown decorating his head. "You can't have spent the whole night in the gardens alone!"
"For the first few hours, I was inside. You just missed me." Technoblade grinned, the prince letting out a long and heavy groan.
Technoblade listened to Wilbur blabber on about how his evening went, the recent drama with the nobles, his social circles, while Technoblade tied up his hair into a messy ponytail with the ribbon on his wrist.
"How was Kristin and Phil? Last time I saw Phil, he was ogling your step-mother." Technoblade teased and laughed seeing how Wilbur's face flushed red.
"Don't remind me, it was disgusting. They came up to my group after dancing and were just all lovey dovey. I love Kristin, but jeez my dad acts too..."
"Obsessed?" Technoblade finished, raising an eyebrow.
"Obsessed." Wilbur repeated back, a long and heavy exhale escaping. "He's so sappy, like oooh Kristin you look so pretty in that dress! Ooho Kristin the sweet cherry of my eye please just take me to bed and-"
"That's a pretty good impression." A voice said from behind them, making Wilbur freeze on the spot. Phil stood there, amused.
"Dad!" Wilbur sputtered out, face going even more red as he nervously laughed.
"No, please Wilbur, continue. I want to hear all about what you were saying." Phil urged with Kristin by his side.
Such a warm family they were.
Technoblade's mind wanded elsewhere though during the entertaining situation, locking eyes with a familiar servant who was helping the head butler clean up the room.
Tommy squirmed under Technoblade's heavy glare.
Technoblade had to calm down over this kid, it was just a temporary fascination anyway, simply prompted by the fact he dared come over to where Technoblade stood and nothing more.
Just a fascination...
A familiar boy stood in front of him, hair tied down in a small ponytail with a black ribbon topping it off. Technoblade furrowed his eyebrows, turning toward the head butler who cleared his throat.
"There has been an unfortunate accident involving your last assistant, I'd like to introduce you to Tommy." The butler motioned a hand out to the blonde, who bowed. "He'll be filling the role until Jamie recovers from his injuries."
"Why wasn't I informed of this sooner?" Technoblade asked, shuffling through documents lounged all over the rosewood desk. He picked up his quill, dipping it in ink and scrawling his signature on one of the documents.
"It was quite last minute. I apologise, sir." The butler said, turning to dismiss himself and leaving the room.
The clock on the wall ticked, the suffocating air of the room one you could faint in. The only sounds you could hear were the quill touching paper, breaths of the boy standing by the door, and the clock.
The curtains were draped open, the sun chasing away the clouds as the light poured into the office through the windows. Particles of dust floated around, Technoblade glancing up occasionally to meet the eyes of the boy who gazed at him with an expression indefinable.
Technoblade stuffed the files into the drawers of his desk, standing up from his chair.
"Fetch me my vest." He commanded, the servant doing just that as he scampered over to a stand with multiple pieces of clothing propped on.
He stood with his arms out, Tommy slipping the vest onto the man. Technoblade did up the buttons of the vest as he marched out of the room.
Technoblade could hear the footsteps of the servant behind him, light like the boy was practically gliding on air. It was a nice change compared to his previous assistant, Jamie, whose footsteps roared and boomed.
"I know it's not my place to ask, but where are we heading?" Tommy called out, practically sprinting to catch up with the long strides Technoblade took.
"Exactly, it's not your place to ask." Technoblade snapped, heading forward as maids attending to the washing or cleaning the halls rapidly made way for him.
Technoblade saw how Tommy gawked at the paintings on the wall and felt a proud feeling bubble in his heart. Phil had let Technoblade decorate the hallway his office resided in however he pleased, so Technoblade made sure it was top-notch with only the most esteemed painters making it onto the walls. He specially commissioned the painters and artists across the country, circling it around the mythology he had grown up to adore.
"Oi, Techno. Where are you off to?"
Technoblade groaned, seeing Wilbur leaning at the turn of the hall with crossed arms and a sword fastened on his baldric.
"Off to fight a dragon." Technoblade said sarcastically. "Where do you think I'm going? I need to talk over some papers with Phil."
Wilbur hummed, turning to face Tommy with fascination glimmering in his eyes. "You're quite a handsome young thing, aren't you?"
"This is why everyone around the castle thinks your gay..." Technoblade muttered, snorting at how the boy he had practically whipped his head toward Technoblade with a scowl.
"That is not funny! That is not funny!"
"You sound like Jschlatt now, shut up." Technoblade replied.
"Eh!? You can't tell me to shut up, I'm a prince!"
Technoblade laid back, expression unimpressed as the servant straddled him, dagger in hand with the tip directly pointed to his heart. Moonlight seeped in, window open as the drapes swayed in the wind.
Crickets could be heard chirping outside, and the moonlight made the boy's face practically glow, tears quite visible rimming around his eyes.
"You do realise, there are a million better ways to assassinate someone. Poison would do wonders." Technoblade drawled, eyelids heavy as he let out a yawn.
Tommy seemed to be bewildered, hands trembling as his eyes went wider. "You.... How can you be so calm?!" His voice shook with each breath he took. "And you're immune to poison!"
"At least you're informed." Technoblade complimented, large hand gripping onto the dagger and flinging it out of the boy's hand like it was a feather. Tommy's bottom lip was trembling, reminding Technoblade this was a mere child.
"Get off me please, I was trying to sleep and this was not a pleasant surprise to wake up to." He complained, shuffling around and trying to move the boy off of him.
Tommy did as he said, seemingly out of it as he got off of Technoblade and just stood by the bed in a daze. Techno stretched his arms, sitting up as he glanced over at the servant who had just tried to pierce his heart open.
"You're a literal child. The only person I know psycho enough to employ a child to work for him is... The green bastard..." Technoblade tittered. "Always looking for a fight... Huh..."
He yanked the quilt cover off of himself, Tommy stumbling back toward the door of the bedroom. He clutched onto the dagger that was slouched on the floor nearby, throwing it and barely missing the teenager's face as a warning to stop trying to run.
The boy took it, of course.
Technoblade loved that door, the intricate design of it, a true shame it had to be dented by the blade. He marched forward, grabbing the boy's chin and pointing it up to face his eyes. Technoblade was significantly taller than Tommy, practically looming over him.
"You smell like buttercups." Technoblade uttered, voice groggy and low. "Let me smell your hair."
"What the fuck!?" Tommy slapped his hand away, throwing himself toward the door to which Technoblade pulled him back with no hesitation by the arm.
"Listen, I'm too tired for this shit. Where is Dream?" He demanded, fingernails digging into the boy's arm.
"I dunno! Okay!? He just told me to kill you and said that once you were dead, I'd get the money." Tommy cried out, Techno putting a palm to his mouth and fluttering his eyes shut.
"Shut up... A guard might hear you, and then imagine what would happen. I'm sure you'd be sentenced to prison, no... Executed." Technoblade sighed, letting go of Tommy's arm and placing his palm off.
The effulgent, pregnant moon brightened the room up. An elegant display was painted in Technoblade's opinion, a scene that could only be described as meaningful. Two people just enjoying the silence of the night... Maybe only one, the other one practically sobbing behind him.
Was this what affection was? What he had seen Phil feel all this time toward Wilbur and Kristen.
"Who are your parents? You have good poise, one that can not be taught but only developed throughout the years in a noble household." Technoblade commented, tugging the knife out of the door. "You're illegitimate, aren't you?"
"How the hell can you tell all that by just how I stand!?"
"Well, you have the poise of a nobleboy. Obviously, you would not have to be an assassin if you were the heir of a noble. The dagger you use looks pricey, I doubt Dream would supply weapons for you." Technoblade whispered, praising the intricately carved design in the handle of the blade. "You come from a background of money."
"What the actual fuck." Tommy gaped. "So the rumors are true... You are a monster."
"I'm observant." Technoblade smiled, finally facing the assassin again. "Who are your parents? I'm fascinated by you."
"Countess and Count Innitere..." Tommy muttered.
The leaves of the trees close by the window susurrated, rustling and dancing together just like the first night they met.
"Tommy Innitere, doesn't exactly suit you..." Technoblade replied, walking up to Tommy and putting a hand on his shoulder. He saw how the boy's eyes darted nervously to the knife in his other hand. "Listen, Buttercup."
"Do not call me Buttercup." The boy spat out bitterly.
"How would you feel about the name Tommy Technoblade Innitere?" Technoblade asked.
"Don't only the sons of a person get their name as a middle name?" Tommy raised an eyebrow, face suddenly struck with a realization. "No. You are not, no."
"I think it suits you." Technoblade chuckled, the boy under his grip protesting like crazy. He started saying some vulgar things under his breath. Dear XD this kid could be quite mature and poised when he wanted to be, but also obscene and bitter.
Technoblade was allowed to have this kid because he wasn't an orphan technically, he was still in the clear.
The boy's shoulder felt so brittle, Technoblade felt like he could crush it if he held it the wrong way.
His Bitter Brittle Buttercup suited him quite well.