Work Text:
He could hear the whispers from down below, the muttering on both sides of the divide and the quite thrum of nerves and anticipation almost tangible in the air, even at the height of his perch, even after the number of times he’d felt it. After so long it had begun to feel like a welcome home.
The battlefield below looked sterile. An untouched blanket of white between two admittedly large forces. Only one among them all stood out to him though, the same as always. Bright as the morning sun Technoblade’s golden crown shone brilliantly among the muted colours of his fellow warriors, blood red cape around his shoulders a sign of things to come as he paced back and forth, more feverish than practically any other for the fighting to begin.
His friend, the only reason Philza was here at all, was among the army on the left, the ones clothed in green as opposed to their enemies in blue. That was the extent of what he knew about the conflict, green was fighting blue. He had seen this exact thing play out so many times before it hardly seemed worth it to bother learning their countries, their names or whatever cause they were fighting and dying for. He was sure he’d learn more if Techno felt in the mood to talk after all was said and done but it was possible he’d just be provided with the specifics of the fight, not that he wouldn’t be watching intently the whole time anyway.
His presence here made them nervous. That fact entertained him much more than he thought it ought to. There were a few variations on what had become his legend by now. Some told that he was an angel, watching and deciding who was a worthy warrior, others were more specific, claiming him to be the angel of death sent to the human world by Death herself to ensure as many as possible would return with him to her realm. He liked that one. Some even thought him an omen, sat high above their conflicts simply watching and ensuring they all knew that as much bloodshed would come from the battle as possible. More than once there’d been talk of calling off fights all together if he was seen. It had never happened.
In truth, the carnage that had been attributed to his presence was very rarely, if ever, actually his. No, the real source of the excess amount of bloodshed was Technoblade. The voices demanded blood so frequently and in such quantity that there really was no better way to satisfy them than to join a war, pick a side and kill until he was given a reprieve from the noise, even if it was only for a moment. Of course, if it looked as though Technoblade were in any real danger he’d jump in without hesitation but he could count on one hand the number of times it had come to that.
Philza himself had never heard the voices but he knew they were real. Real in the way that the stranger would withdraw for days, sometimes even weeks, at a time in the name of keeping him safe. Real in the way that his ally would attempt to hide the fact that when they reached their peak his own ears would bleed from the noise of it all. Real in the way that his closest friend would wake in the dead of the night clutching his head and screaming for relief. If the fighting was what it took to give him peace even for a moment than Philza couldn’t have been more for it. In his view, anything that helped his friend was worth it.
It was the feeling of familiar eyes on him that drew Philza from his thoughts and refocused him on the scene below. Techno was grinning up at him, bouncing on his heels as he drew his weapon. He had so many but of course there were his favourites, his sword, his axe, his trident, his crossbow. It was his sword he was wielding today. The sword was the most versatile of his weapons, allowing him the opportunity to get in close and stab, slash or hack at his enemies at his discretion. The more he could do the more the voices would be sated.
“Blood for the Blood God.” Technoblade grinned up at him, the wind carrying the words to his ears even at their distance. He nodded back silently, an act of reassurance the other man would never admit to needing.
Techno’s eyes left him then as the beating of the drums began in earnest. It was starting. His friend pushed to the front of the masses, standing a few paces ahead of his fellow soldiers, alone even now with an entire army backing him. The sounding of a lone horn cut through the air to join with the drums as it began. Techno was leading the charge of course, bounding almost gleefully towards his enemies, practically a blur of movement. To most, he would be lost soon, engulfed by the fighting but Philza’s sharp gaze wouldn’t lose him for even a second nor would he want to look away for even the briefest of moments.
Being able to bear witness to Technoblade, the Blood God himself, in battle was a sight like no other. He had never had a teacher or a mentor, in the beginning fighting simply for the privilege to survive before finding his home in the heat of the battlefield. His movements were somehow filled with grace and stiffness alike as he danced among his enemies like it was the most natural thing in the world before curtly striking them down at what would seem to anyone else the most inopportune times. It was fascinating to watch and he was certain that there had never been another like him or would be again.
Of the innumerable battles Philza had played observer to in his seemingly infinite years it was by no means the bloodiest or even deadliest he had witnessed, not even the worst he’d seen at Techno’s hand. That did not mean it wasn’t bad. The carnage didn’t scare him, in truth he barely batted an eye at the gore but it was blatantly clear to see that Techno had been more vicious than usual, drawing out kills that he could’ve made more efficient, targeting weak spots that would cause the most pain instead of granting the mercy of a swift death, going after the already wounded.
The voices must be howling.
At least it was quick. Well, at least from his outsiders point of view. Philza knew all too well that what felt like the blink of the eye to an onlooker could very well feel like a whole lifetime when you were fighting in the eye of the storm. Technoblade’s favourite place to be. Sometimes he wondered if that’s where the man’s immortality came from, a hundred or more lifetimes spent in the heart of battle given back to him to spend as he so pleased.
It was over now. They were in the aftermath. What he would consider the trickiest part. There were barely a handful of the opposition left alive, wounded and scarred but alive at least. He wondered if that was of any consolation to them. They were already retreating, clinging to each other desperately in an attempt to at the very least stay on their feet as they made what could only be called an escape. Technoblade was once again stood alone, even his own comrades backing away from him warily. Despite the fact that he had fought for them, despite the fact that they were practically all still alive thanks to his efforts, despite the fact that they had all but demanded he join their cause, they backed away. Content to leave him behind in the bloodied, barren wasteland.
It was cruelly predictable by this point. Whenever Technoblade got himself involved in these situations he would make it clear what he was, what he would do and most of all what he was capable of. In all the time they had been together Philza had never once known the other to hide the fact that he was there for blood and that little else was of value to him. They accepted it, some welcomed it with open arms even but when it was over, when all was said and done and they were forced to reckon with the destruction and death that lay in his wake they would turn on him.
Monster, horror, beast, abomination.
They were all things he knew had been screamed at Techno many times before. This lot at least seemed smart enough to keep whatever thoughts or comments they may have had contained until they were a safe distance away where they could no longer be seen or heard. A wise choice for Phil would not have hesitated to slaughter them all over a misplaced word. Some looked up to him as they began the long trek home. They looked to him for absolution. They would not find it. What had happened here today was just as much their fault as it was Technoblade’s. You cannot provoke a starving bear then act surprised when it attacks.
It took barely half of an hour for the army to clear out and disappear from sight, much faster than most. They must have sensed something was going to happen, whether that something involved the Blood God who was still stood stoically amongst the destruction or the Angel of Death who had risen from his perch, shouldered his bag and looked ready to take flight they did not know. All they knew was that they would prefer to be long gone before it happened.
Even from a distance he could see it but as Philza launched himself from the mountain ledge with a practised ease and allowed his wings to carry him to the blood soaked ground below it became all the more apparent just what a mess Technoblade really was. Once pristine clothes were now torn and ragged, the brilliantly golden crown tarnished and crooked, his blade dulled by just how much it had been used and not a spot on him was devoid of blood. Truly, the man was soaked head to toe in red and even though Philza was certain of the fact that none of it was actually his and that he remained perfectly unharmed that didn’t mean it would’ve felt good to be covered in the quickly drying liquid.
“Hi mate,” he said softly as he touched down a few feet away. Empty eyes locked onto his as Techno emotionlessly raised his now dull blade, levelling it at his chest as he charged forward intent to pierce his heart. Ah, so it was one of those days. Phil’s wings lifted him from his place in the snow with ease only moments before he would’ve been run through and that’s where he remained, hovering in the air just out of reach while his friend tried fruitlessly to get to him. When he landed again he was forced into dodging another barrage of attacks. It wouldn’t have been quite so easy if Techno wasn’t so drained from the fighting.
This happened sometimes. Technoblade would give in to the voices during a battle, letting them guide him during the fight and then they would refuse to give up control once it was over. Philza just had to make sure he didn’t get stabbed while he waited for them to subside and Techno to come back to himself. That would just be an inconvenience. He had no doubts that everything would be okay but he wasn’t sure for how long this was going to go on for. Sometimes it didn’t happen at all, others only for a few minutes and at its worst Techno was trapped in his own head for days. He hoped that for Techno’s sake it wouldn’t be that bad this time around.
To his relief it looked as though it was already letting up only twenty minutes in. The force of Techno’s swings was slowly lightening up and his movements were becoming more sluggish. Eventually he dropped his sword and began swaying on his feet before pitching forward, Phil at once reaching out to catch him under his arms, Techno’s head dropping tiredly to his shoulder as he gently lowered him to the ground, “It’s okay mate I’ve got you.” With Techno practically passed out in his lap, a sign of extreme trust all on its own, he shrugged the bag from his shoulder and pulled out a rag and container of lukewarm water, setting to work cleaning the blood from his face and arms.
It didn’t seem like he would be waking for a while now but that was alright. Philza was more than content to pull a blanket from the bag and drape it over his friend while he waited for him to stir, he knew he needed the rest. It also happened to give him a chance to get him at least a little more cleaned up. The crown was carefully removed from his head, tucked away safely amongst his other possessions, and a comb was gently pulled through his hair, carefully teasing out the tangles, grime and knots. Phil was practically now an expert at redoing Techno’s favourite braid.
Sometime later a grunt came from his friend, a sure sign he would be up soon. True to prediction mere minutes later Techno was pushing himself up into a sitting position, pressing his palms to his eyes tiredly. Phil watched silently, waiting for him to make the first move so he could see what headspace he was in and what he needed.
“Hello…”
“Hi mate, how you doin’?”
A look of contemplation settled on Techno’s face as he tried to formulate an answer before nodding slightly and tapping a finger to his temple, “Quiet,” he muttered, nodding to himself again. That was good, quiet was always good. Looking down at his hands then back up to Philza he searched the man’s face, glancing between him and the sword discarded nearby. “Did I hurt you?” He asked quietly before realising that wouldn’t give him a full answer and shaking his head, “Did I attack you?”
Philza was almost hesitant to answer, not wanting Techno to feel guilty over things that were both not his fault and inconsequential but there were no secrets between them, no reason to start now. “Nothing I couldn’t handle, don’t worry about it.” He tried to reassure but he could already see Techno starting to close himself off. His arms crossed defensively over his chest as he nodded curtly, forcing himself to stand though it was obvious he was still unsteady, turning away and leaving to retrieve his sword all while avoiding looking at him. This wouldn’t do at all.
You attacked your only friend! You’re going to kill him! Why would he stay with someone who would try to hurt him?! He’s going to abandon you! You’ll be alone again! He’s going to leave, he’s going to leave, he’s going to leave!
A firm hand on his shoulder jolted the voices to a standstill, grounding him in the moment. Looking down he was met with Philza staring up at him evenly. He even waited patiently for Techno to meet his eyes before he raised himself from the ground, hovering around eye level before pulling Techno in and hugging him tightly. It calmed him immensely.
“I know they want me to be afraid. I know you know that I love you.” Philza stated as plainly as possible. He had found that in these situations clear, concise language helped the most. Simple statements reaffirming things Techno already knew let him keep a dampener on the voices when they were lying to him. Besides, Technoblade was his best friend he would never be afraid of him, could never be.
Technoblade had told him, however long ago it was now, that the voices often tried to convince him that he would leave or that he should hurt him. Techno had listened in the beginning, trying to scare him off before he was able to hurt him but it had very quickly become apparent that that wouldn’t be happening. Philza knew that the voices only wanted him gone so that they could have more control, preying on Technoblade’s isolation so that they could cause the most amount of damage. He wasn’t opposed to the violence itself but he would be damned if he ever let the voices force him into it again.
Techno tensed briefly as Phil’s arms came around him, fighting back the urge to push him away or attack him on instinct. After a hesitant moment though, he inhaled a shuddering breath and slumped against him, trusting Phil to not let him fall as he wrapped his own arms around the other, conscious not to get in the way of his wings. He hummed in response, he did know those things. Philza had made sure of that.
“Time to head home now, yeah?” Phil asked after what could have been five minutes or thirty of doing nothing but standing in the snow holding tightly onto one another. They had both needed it more than either was willing to admit. For Technoblade it was the reassurance that Phil was real, that he was here with him and he wasn’t going to leave. For Philza it was proof that his friend was really okay, that he had left yet another battle unharmed by both the other soldiers and the voices constantly vying for control.
Techno nodded and cleared his throat as he finally let go, taking a step back and allowing Phil to return his feet to the ground. He retrieved his sword which lay forgotten in the snow before looking towards the path they would need to take to return home, dusk was already approaching and he knew they wouldn’t get back by the time darkness fell. They could either travel through the night, find a place to stay if there even was one along the way or maybe they’d end up sleeping under the stars again like they used to do so long ago. That would be nice. He was just about to start walking when Philza called out to him.
“I brought you a change of clothes.”
“Heh? Is that really necessary, I mean c’mon-”
“What do you mean?! ‘Course it is! You’re covered in blood it’s gonna get stale! It’s gonna stink!”
Philza huffed a laugh as Techno finally relented and he was able to toss him the bag with the fresh set of clothes and the water and cloth along with some apples and potatoes he’d packed to make sure Techno could get his strength back up for the long journey ahead of them. He would make sure he ate something more substantial once they were home but this would do for now. “There’s a cave over there, go clean yourself up.” He directed, gesturing to the small almost hidden entrance tucked away in the side of the mountain. He had checked it out earlier as well as left something for Techno to find inside.
Patiently he found himself a rock to sit on as he waited for Techno to make it to the cave, grinning to himself as he heard the exclamation of joy at what he found waiting for him inside. Phil had thought it a good idea for multiple reasons to bring Carl along with him when he’d made the trip to the battlefield. Techno would be cheered up by just the sight of him as well as be able to ride him home and give himself a rest.
The man was still beaming as he emerged from the cave in fresh clothes and a thick cloak, crown firmly back on his head and all traces of blood gone from his body as he lead the horse behind him with a length of rope. “You brought Carl!” Techno yelled excitedly as Philza stood once more, nodding happily as he approached. He was relieved that Carl had had the intended effect, looking up as his already taller friend hoisted himself up onto the horse and now towered over him.
Phil shook his head as Techno offered him his hand to pull him up, intent on having him ride with him. He could easily walk and in fact preferred it right now. The ability to walk alongside his friend as they returned safely to their home was all he could ask for or want. Looking up at the quickly darkening sky he could see the stars beginning to shine, perhaps they would sleep under them tonight.