Chapter Text
"It's time to sleep, Tommy," Philza said, softly brushing a hand through his son's blonde hair.
Tommy grumbled, "I'm not tired, though." The young boy huffed, crossing his arms defiantly.
Philza's eyes crinkled at the corners as he gazed fondly down at his son. He fluffed his feathered wings as he sat on the side of Tommy's bed, "How about a bedtime story then? To get you feeling tired."
Tommy hummed under his covers, considering it, "Okay. It has to be a good one, though."
"Of course," Philzaagreed easily. Th old man thought for a while, searching the depths of his very long memory for a story to tell his son, "Ah, I have one for you. Have I told you the story of Dream and Technoblade?"
"No. Technoblade is a wicked cool name, though."
"It is, isn't it?" Philza chucked, clearing his throat, "It began like this, you see..."
//
"Wilbur, what even is this?" Technoblade asked, barely sixteen years of age.
Wilbur fluttered around his back, examining the instrument he had gifted the boy with a giddy smile, "I thought it only fair, of course, to give you an instrument for your sixteenth birthday. Seeing that I am the god of music and your mother was the muse of music. Very fitting, in my humble opinion."
"I don't even know how to play this, though." Techno turned the instrument in his hands, fingers delicate on the gentle neck of the instrument.
"Its a violin!" Wilbur chattered on easily, undisturbed by Techno's hesitance, "It's easy to play." With deft fingers, Wilbur took the instrument from Techno's pale fingers and began to play.
The sound was beautiful, of course. Most things that Wilbur did were beautiful, especially music.
Wilbur handed the violin back with a pleased smile, "You try."
Gently, Technoblade positioned the violin, copying Wilbur. He drew the bow across the strings carefully, getting a feel for the instrument. He did it again, slowly working out the notes to one of his favorite songs.
Wilbur stood by quietly, watching with a small smile on his face. Quiet applause filled the air as Techno finished, "See, I knew you'd be an expert at it."
Techno snorted, removing the violin from his neck, "Expert is a strong word, Wilbur. It does sound nice, though," Techno admitted, tilting the instrument so that the wooden bits shone in the sun.
"I knew you'd like it! You should practice more with it, I think you'd do well."
Techno hummed, the noise low in his chest, "Maybe."
//
Technoblade practiced the violin, of course. Even he did not have the confidence to disobey a god, no matter if that god was Wilbur.
He practiced and practiced until his shoulders ached and his fingers trembled.
He practiced until the music he played made even the birds hush so that they may listen to him.
He often played as he walked through forests, relishing in the sweet sounds of nature as they harmonized with his violin. With his newfound fame, the solitude was refreshing. Technoblade enjoyed the acclaim that came with his musical skill, of course, he just did not enjoy the attention.
Perhaps if people learned to listen to his music and leave, all would be well. Alas, people always attempted to speak to him after his performances, and Technoblade, ever anti-social, did not appreciate it.
He smiled lightly as the long, high note he played echoed through the trees. The quiet shuffling of leaves was the only sound to greet him. Until-
A quiet humming sound filled the air.
Techno's bow paused on his strings.
The humming stopped.
A small sound came from a nearby tree. Slowly, Techno's hand traveled from his bow to the hilt of his sword.
A boy swung down from the tree he was seated in, hooking his knees on a low hanging branch and hanging upsidedown, "I'm sorry, did I frighten you?" the boy asked, impish grin on his face.
"No," Techno grunted, eyes cautious.
The boy - a dryad, Techno's mind supplied - lept from the tree completely. His smirk widened and moved their faces closer together.
"That's not true, is it? It's not nice to lie." His young voice was teasing and dangerous all at once.
Techno studied the dryad cautiously. From what he had heard, nature spirits were rather finicky creatures, "Apologies, Dryad..." he said, testing the words in his mouth.
The dryad giggled, covering his cheeky smile with a delicate hand, "Dryad," he mocked in a poor imitation of Technoblade's voice, "That isn't my name, little musician. My name is Dream," thin fingers extended themselves in front of him, "It's nice to meet you."
Techno nodded in acknowledgment, taking the slim hand in his own. Dream's skin was soft, nearly unnaturally smooth against his own, "Technoblade."
"I know. The leaves have been whispering about you."
"I see..."
Dream laughed again, unnaturally green eyes lighting up with amusement, "No need to be so scared, little musician. I won't hurt you. I fact-" In a single leap, Dream reached up and swung himself onto one of the branches of his tree, "Play for me. I was enjoying myself."
Mentally, Techno considered the prospect. There was no reason for him to refuse. He returned the violin to his shoulder and began to draw the bow against the string. The sound of music filled the air once more.
After a moment, Dream resumed humming along.
The two sat together for over an hour. At some point, Dream had transitioned from humming to singing, his voice taking on a strong lulling aspect as he sang in an unknown language.
Dream smiled softly, kicking his feet in time to the music. It had been many years since he had heard a musician as talented as this Technoblade.
Eventually, Techno's skilled hands grew tired from the constant bowing, and he rested the violin on his seated lap.
Dream's long note simpered off as well, "You'll return?" he asked, rather than demanded.
Techno thought for a moment, "If you wish it."
Dream turned his soft smile to Techno, "Good."