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It was late when Techno finally left his room. The sun streamed lazily through the windows of the cabin, casting a faint, radiating warmth against the wood floors that would be sure to soak into the feet of anyone walking through them. A pleasant warmth of a late spring, drifting in through the still crisp and chilled air, taking its time to warm up the land for both day, and year.
Despite his late departure from his room, Techno had been awake for at least an hour prior. He’d let the curtains open at the sound of birdsong calling him from his sleep, but had promptly returned to the warmth of his bed. Curling up atop the piles of furs that made up the mattress, burrowing under the layers of wiry wools, and burying all but the tip of his nose under a thick bearskin blanket.
It was a rest day, he had decided.
It had taken him far too long to allow anyone else to do work around the cabins. Insisting he could do it himself, not out of pride, but rather he just couldn’t get used to the idea of others being there to help.
But that had been nearly a month ago. And, it was hard to argue with Philza for long. The old bastard was too good at arguing his case, until Techno had to admit defeat and allow the man to actually do things around the place. And for Wilbur, while the bard of a man still seemed to avoid most chores whenever he could, Techno still couldn’t help but notice the dogs not being nearly as needy or hungry as often.
As for Tommy, well, Techno had to admit that it’s a bit difficult to argue with something that’s constantly yelling back at you.
And so the great and mighty warrior had finally succumbed to the insistence of his family, and decided that for, at least once a week, he could afford to just rest. Do nothing. Or do whatever he felt like with no pressure to get it done before having to repair something or feed the dogs or check the hives.
And today was a good day for it.
He rose slowly, stretching out each limb with a satisfying crack, before changing into a comfortable set of old clothes. A loose tunic, trousers a size too big, both worn and frayed and covered in patches and shed dog hair. But flannel-soft and warm.
Rather than completing his ensemble with his usual cloak or furred cape, Techno merely dragged one of the wolf skin blankets from his bed, wrapping it about his shoulders and head, leaving his hair in its scraggly nighttime braid, before making his way barefoot down to the kitchen.
The floorboards, smooth and worn from the years of wear, had warmed gently in the rays of the sun, drifting softly through the windows of the cabin. The curtains were already drawn open some hours ago - Probably by Phil , Techno thought- leaving the pathway to the kitchen at a pleasant temperature on his bare feet.
He pattered sleepily down the stairs and across the living area, finally pausing at the kitchen to withdraw a series of dried herbs and eggs, setting about to cook some breakfast. A few minutes and a warm mug of tea later, saw him sitting at the table, wrapped tightly in the blanket and absently nibbling at the breakfast he had cooked for himself.
Diced white onions, seared to a crisp in butter and pepper, topped a thin layer of scrambled eggs and potato slivers, and a side of bread. Baked last night and sliced thin and toasted in the leftover grease of the pan. A wondrously savoury meal, with a block of cheese beside him to slice from as he chose, and paired with a warm, fragrant herbal tea. A perfect dish for a chill morning.
Techno spread a forkful of the eggs onto the slice of toast, relishing in the combined flavours and textures of the soft eggs and crisp bread, the caramelisation of the onions in contrast with the bite of the pepper.
He was by no means a good cook, anything too complex and he’d end up with a smoked up kitchen and barely edible meal. But what he lacked in expertise in the area of professionalism, he made up for in a perfect understanding of ‘what was good for the weather’.
Savoury and simple for snow. Sweet and spicy for rain. Fresh and light for a hot summer’s day. And hearty and wholesome for the crisp chill of autumn.
It wasn’t an exact science, but the basic ideas had yet to prove him wrong.
And often, simple was best. No need for fancy grilling or baking or complicated recipes being tossed in and out of the oven. Just a simple fry pan or a cauldron and a dash of salt or pepper tended to make anything taste good.
Baking though….he’d leave that to Phil. Or better yet, Niki.
Cookies would be nice for tea later… He reminded himself to invite her over sometime for an after dinner chat with the family. Some cookies or biscuits or fresh, sweet breads would certainly make for a lovely addition to the pantry.
In the meantime though, he still had a few tarts left over from her visit a few days ago. Laid out under a cloth on the kitchen countertop, they would keep just fine for some time. The cold weather meant no insects would get into them, and the lack of heat would keep them from going bad. Plus, there was that whole deal about sugar being a preservative, Techno reminded himself to look into that a bit more. Some jam preserves would be useful to have for next year. Or just in general. Jams were always a safe bet for gifting to people, particularly neighbours. And with Tubbo’s village -Snowchester was it?- growing larger each day, it would pay to have them on his good side.
Ah….whoops… there he was, planning and thinking too hard on a day when he was supposed to not be doing anything.
He’d file those thoughts away for later, he told himself as he finished up the breakfast and rinsed the dishes off in the sink. Shivering from the snow cold water, he quickly made his way to the hearth in the living room, kneeling down beside it and throwing on another log before rubbing his hands together before the flames. Working out the sharp cold that had seeped into his fingers from the washing, they stung for a few moments as feeling returned to them. But eventually, they returned to their normal temperature. And he found himself tucking his feet beneath him as he leaned back against the couch before the hearth.
Not bothering to sit in the couch directly -there really was no need, the thick bearskin rug on the floor was more than enough cushion- he used the base of it as a backrest and slumped against it. Digging his toes into the thick fur of the rug beneath him, dragging a pillow from the couch to prop up behind his head, and flipping the blanket out around him, he settled in to do a bit of reading.
With his glasses in place, and another warm mug of tea, Technoblade started on an old book he had picked up from the Snowchester library. An old one, by the looks of its jacket, worn edges and frayed pages, yellowed with age and smelling that scent that only books kept in a shelf for years seemed to accumulate. Illustrations of various scenes from within its writings, of monsters and men and strange creatures alike, some were fighting, some were civil, some simply existed to grace each page with the beauty of its linework and ink.
A history of the local area, from the time it had been settled by the villager folk who had come before the arrival of Snowchester and Techno’s cabin, documenting the various lords and kings and raids and uprisings throughout the hundreds or so years of its existence. Up until the final battles that left things empty, full of ruins and scattered villages, almost like how it had been originally.
A perfect circle of events.
By the time Techno had finished halfway through the tome -interrupted by the cold nose of a snow frosted Steve nuzzling against his side, having been let in by Philza who laughed at Techno’s brief chastising of letting the snow covered bear leave puddles of melting powder across the floor- it was noon. And after mopping up the melted snow from Steve, it was just about time for a nap.
Techno towel dried the outer layers of fur from the bear and gave him a quick cursory brushing, before curling up against the massive beast’s side, burrowing into the soft layers of fluff and tucking his feet and arms as best he could against the warmth of the white fur.
Finally, he settled himself in. And with the warmth of the crackling fire before him and blanket of fur from Steve at his back, Techno slowly drifted off to sleep to the sound of the bear’s chuffing snores and the pleasant snapping of the hearth.