Chapter Text
The halls of Tommy’s house were cold. It was a given, in a castle that size, that the wings were bound to be a bit chilly, especially since he wasn’t in one of the personal chambers, but as of late, less and less effort was being given into keeping the castle warm.
The resources were needed elsewhere, after all.
Not that the royal family didn’t still live in luxury, because his family did, just a few things had been cut in order to fuel the war effort. It kept their kingdom safe, Tommy knew, and it helped their soldiers win. Sacrifices were necessary and getting cold in the hallway was hardly a sacrifice anyway.
If the war dragged on, things would get worse, but Tommy’s father wouldn’t let it get to that.
Surely not.
The halls were lined with tapestries. They showed his family’s history-of ships and totems and living, breathing gods. Duels and treaties and everything else that had been deemed important. As a bonus, they also insulated the walls a bit. Which, while Tommy had no right to complain, would be even worse otherwise. Tommy didn’t do well in the cold.
Tommy tried to straighten up his hair, just a little, before he had to go in to see him, but it was useless. No one had ever been successful in fully getting Tommy’s hair to tame, and believe him when he said they had had the most talented professionals try. And fail.
Eventually, Tommy gave up. This was the neatest that Tommy was going to look. He could not keep his father waiting.
Dream didn’t like to be kept waiting.
Tommy stood alone, with no escort or guards.
Normally, when a guest appeared in front of the court, it was a … bigger affair. But this was Tommy’s home, he didn’t need to be escorted to the towering doors of the throne room. Formalities would be followed in the throne room, nothing, not even Tommy’s brothers were more important than following formality in the throne room. Outside of it however, was Tommy’s house, he lived here, and how awkward would it be to lead someone around their own home.
Even so, standing at the doors to the throne room made Tommy’s heart thud heavily. But he wasn’t … afraid. No, Tommy was a big man, just, well, anyone would be intimidated by what was inside.
He could hear the echo of a courier announcing Tommy’s entry to the king, he could hear the scuffle of boots and the creak of the towering doors opening. Light flooded through, and Tommy took a step onto the red carpet that led towards the three thrones of the SMP. He had stepped foot in this room before, but never as an outsider. He did his best to keep calm. Nothing bad was going to happen.
This was his dad. Just because he was in ruler mode (and to be honest, he was pretty much always in ruler mode when he was talking to Tommy), didn’t change that.
Gathering his nerves, Tommy continued to walk, before kneeling at the appropriate place and waiting. And waiting. Decorum was everything in this room, formality, a mainstay of being in the presence of the throne.
Tommy was a prince. Even if he wasn’t in his father’s court very often, this was his domain. He knew what he was doing. He wasn’t afraid.
He couldn’t be afraid.
Fear was to nobles what blood was to sharks.
“You may rise,” someone finally said, their voice echoing off of the high ceilings and stones. It wasn’t Dream speaking.
There were three people allowed to say that. The king himself, and the two people sitting at his sides.
Tubbo had raised their voice in Dream’s stead, either in pity or just because he didn’t want to see Tommy suffer. Ranboo probably would have spoken, but he wasn’t on the king’s good side at the moment and being around him always knit Ranboo’s lips together
Tommy couldn't blame him. Enough of running his own mouth around Dream had made him silent around the man, rare as it was.
Dream did not like foolish words.
Tommy stood, keeping his eyes drawn to the floor. Decorum, Tommy reminded himself, even though he knew neither of his brothers would mind. Tubbo could care less for the rules of court, only maintaining them because he didn’t want to suffer the wrath of his father if he didn’t. And Ranboo, much the same.
Tommy was rarely on the receiving end of such formalities, and was rarely called to court. Either throne on his father’s side could be his, if the situation called for it (though situations rarely called for the third son, the youngest, the furthest from the throne. What were the chances that two princes would fall in succession, once they survived the trials of early childhood?). Either way, he disliked them.
Tubbo and Ranboo were his brothers, it felt wrong to be separated from them like this.
He wanted to be beside them, not have judgement passed by them.
“Come closer, please,” Tubbo requested, but it sounded almost like a plea. Huh. Tubbo didn’t usually speak this much in the throne room. As the heir, Tubbo had the most right to speak in the room anyway, but didn’t usually do it. But for whatever reason, it seemed that Dream was being lenient today. It probably had to do with the odd circumstances that led to this whole thing in the first place. It wasn’t often that one of the members of the royal family was called in front of court as if they were a commoner.
Tommy could feel everyone’s eyes on him, although he wasn't sure if Dream was really watching the proceedings or not. The nobles in court today had their eyes glued to Tommy. It was unsettling.
A hushed word rose from the throne, and although Tommy couldn’t hear what was spoken (no one, but the three seated at the thrones could), it was Dream. It was his father. It was the king.
He wasn’t known for speaking quietly, and it made Tommy tremble.
“We cannot have a conversation from there, your highness. At least let him get close enough to hear us.” Ah, good old Tubbo.
“Very well. Prince Theseus, come forward.” And finally, Tommy saw his brothers. Tubbo looked like he was about to cry for some reason, although he was holding it at bay by a string, probably only by his resolve and the strict training Dream had his heir under. Ranboo was actually crying, face burning where his tears fell and he attempted to keep them off of him but also not dirty his clothes.
Oh god.
What had happened? If his brothers were crying, it was so much worse than anything Tommy had been imagining before. A far off thread, a possibility, an unknown was scary, but something that made his brothers cry? Tommy wanted to make it go away, whatever it was.
Tommy still didn't look at Dream. He really couldn’t stand to see his father’s face yet. It would hurt, what if he was crying as well. What if he wasn’t.
Desperately, Tommy wanted to run to each of them and shout and make them smile and make whatever was making them cry go away, but there was a small distance and centuries of tradition standing in the way.
“Prince Theseus, I’m sure that you are aware of our ongoing war with the badlands.” Dream continued on without waiting for an answer from Tommy. He was a king, and he didn’t need one. “You are aware that we cannot take another war. The economy would collapse. Simply speaking, Theseus, we cannot afford to be on bad terms with our neighbors.”
Oh, this was bad, much worse than Tommy had expected. Dream did not like to admit when his country was failing, when he was failing. If Dream was openingly admitting that in front of his own court, then Tommy was not going to hear good news. Not that he was expecting it anyways.
“Yes your highness,” Tommy said, realizing that Dream expected an answer this time.
“Our relations with the Antarctic Empire have been … strained for a while, as I assume you are aware.” Tommy was. While he may not be very important in the line of the kingdom, he was still a prince, with all the responsibilities and privileges of one. Besides, it wasn’t like Tubbo or Ranboo were going to keep secrets from him.
Not even Dream could tear them apart.
Relations with the empire had been strained in the past years and had gradually grown worse.
“Part of my attempt in this war with country has been to keep all three of my princes at home, as you are all too young and inexperienced in battle to be much use, regardless.” Tommy nodded, before thinking through whether or not that was a disrespectful response. It was customary to go to war with your subjects, to lead them, but they hadn’t yet. Most chalked it up to their age, and of course, it would be unreasonable for everyone to go and leave no one left to reign as heir if all others were to perish.
“However, Theseus, I’m sure you are also aware that war and peace both require sacrifice.” Although the throne room was one of the places that the castle was actually keeping heated at the moment, Tommy felt cold everywhere.
Tommy wished he was still in the hallway. Dream kept talking, and Tommy did his best to listen, because this conversation was going to spell out his life from now on.
A sick pit grew in his stomach. He really really didn’t like the way this conversion was turning.
“The Antarctic Empire has graciously agreed to host you,” Dream said, as if this whole thing were a good thing, and really, for the sake of the country, wasn’t it? This was the best solution. This is the best case scenario. I- sacrifices are important to the country. This is little more than a sacrifice like stopping the heating in the grand scheme of things. I will be alright. Somehow, it didn’t sound convincing even in his own head. “A show of goodwill, if you will. Security. You will be safe, and they will see to your education and training as a prince from the time you arrive until our peace is secured.” Tommy hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time with his father, but he knew him well.
Peace would never be secured.
Tommy knew his father. Dream was keeping war at bay for now, because he was still fighting the badlands. But that war would end, and Dream would … Dream was very interested in expanding his empire. Peace was a means to an end for Dream.
And Tommy may not know the king of the Antarctic Empire, but he knew of the legends surrounding him. They called him the Angel of Death, in some lands, and although the name might sound overly pompous, it was from a very, very terrifying origin. His sons were no better. After all, one did not simply get the title of Blood God without any violence. In fact, it was said by some that King Philza was married to death more than just symbolically.
Tommy didn’t know where he stood on religion and gods, but either way, the idea was terrifying. Either way, one thing was sure.
Tommy was never going to see home again.
His knees felt unsteady, and it was a struggle to stay upright, even though he knew the consequences for failing in court. Besides what consequences could touch him now? He was already humiliated beyond belief. He was nothing more than a bargaining chip, passing hands between countries, more of a formality than a promise.
No wonder his brothers were crying. He would be too, if it were one of his brothers (and to all the stars in heaven and Prime Herself, Tommy sent his thanks that his brothers weren’t chosen instead). Tommy was too much in shock for it to really process, but he had no doubt that when it really went through that he’d never be home again, that he’d never get to see Ranboo or Tubbo again, except maybe if the Antarctic Empire had diplomatic meetings and allowed Tommy to attend. Even then, with such a low chance of that even happening, he’d only be able to see them like this, formal and in court.
“You understand your duties then, Prince Theseus?” Dream said finally, and although Tommy missed the last half of what Dream said, he agreed.
Leaving the room, escorted this time (was it not his home any longer?) felt like a goodbye to everything he had ever known. They led him to his room, because Tommy needed to prepare for his journey, which was to happen in the morning. As an affair keeping two countries from war, it was necessary that it be as smoothly done as possible, as quickly as possible. It wouldn’t do to screw it up.
It was Tommy’s duty. It sucked and it was terrible, but the system of hostages was proven to work as long as Kings actually cared about the sons that they sent over. Tommy prayed that everything he had ever known about his father was wrong.
At least he was allowed to pack his own attire.
He packed away some of his court wear, although he highly doubted that he would need it much, unless the king wanted to parade him or something. Tommy wasn’t a trophy of war, but he was a trophy, of a sort. He was a bargaining chip to the Empire, and nothing more. Tommy packed away his daily clothes, and far more of them. He wasn’t sure how he’d be treated in the empire or even where he would be staying, but he knew that it would be smart to have things that brought him comfort.
Tommy looked around his room.
His room was spacious, warm, as a personal room of the royal family rather than one of the halls or outer rooms, but it wouldn’t be his much longer.
He was leaving the SMP. Maybe someday he’d come home, but probably … probably not. In the small corner of the castle that had been Tommy’s kingdom, Tommy sobbed. He’d be alone, from now on. No familiar traditions, except perhaps, the feeling of being beneath several people. No familiar faces, except perhaps, people he had seen once or twice at diplomatic meetings, of people who could care less for Tommy except as a token or a way to get political gain.
He packed his clothes, mostly everyday clothes, because how much need would he really have for court appearances? A few of those kinds would probably be enough. Besides, Tommy was rarely called for appearances at home (not home anymore), he probably wouldn’t need to in a foreign country.
He tucked Henry, a small plush cow away as well. He had had it since he had arrived in the castle, and the staff needed a way to calm him down. Tommy had not parted with it since. He … he really liked cows. There were some around the castle, and when he was allowed, he’d go into the fields and spend time with them. Cows were far better and holier than the king, although Tommy could never voice that.
At some point, there was a knock at the door, so Tommy forced himself up. Before he could get even halfway, the door burst open, revealing Tubbo and Ranboo. Thank god.
“Tommy,” Tubbo said, crashing into him and landing on the bed, to which Ranboo promptly sprawled on them. Normally, Tubbo wasn’t much for physical affection, but Tommy was and well … this was the last time Tubbo would see his younger brother in quite a while so he was going to make the fucking most of it.
“Tubbo,” Tommy said, his voice rough from crying (all of their voices were rough from crying), “Ranboo.”
“I’m going to miss you,” Tubbo said, “and then I am going to break out of this castle and sneak into your transport and come with you. And if that fails, I’ll help Ranboo learn transportation and follow along.” Ranboo nodded, as if this was a possibility they had discussed at length and not a theoretical power Ranboo might have, as an End Hybrid.
“Tubbo you can’t leave,” Tommy said, once he got rid of the traitorous feeling that very much wanted his brothers to come after him, “who’s going to take over the throne when dear old dad kicks the bucket.”
“Who’s going to kick his bucket for him,” Tubbo asked. Ranboo started choking.
“That’s literally traitorous, Tubbo,” Ranboo said when he could breathe, “You can’t-you can’t just do that.”
“Well you laughed at literal treason, apparently, your high ground is made of mud, Ranboo.”
Small giggles echoed for only a moment before the room fell silent.
“Tubbo. Ranboo.” Tommy said, finally, “I-we probably aren’t going to see each other. For a while. I-or ever again I-could you keep this safe for me?” Tommy tossed one of his prized possessions on the bed between Ranboo and Tubbo. “To remember me. And since the Antarctic Empire is in the north, it should point in my general direction. Kind of.” The compass was expensive, gifted to Tommy at some point and had become inexplicably important to young Tommy, enough that he had carved his name into the once smooth metal of its covering.
“I’d give you the disks, but I don’t think I’d be allowed to get them out of their display,” Tommy said, “I-I’ll miss you.”
“Tommy,” Ranboo said, “We don’t-heck, you need something from us, to remember, uh-”
“Ranboo,” Tommy said, interrupting his brother’s anxious rambling, “I don’t think I could ever forget either of you.”
All three of them slept in a tangle, Tommy’s chosen belongings packed and ready for when he would depart in the morning.
Goodbyes were bitter and in private, because Ranboo and Tubbo really couldn't be seen doing them in public, as their official goodbyes were technically negligible and had been done when Dream announced to the court what the plan was.
Tubbo was still hung up on murdering his father, and then snatching Tommy back, to hell with the consequences.
“You can’t do that Tubbo,” TOmmy said, half seriously, although he knew Tubbo couldn’t be (he couldn’t be), “Tubbo, people would die.”
“Dad sure would,” Tubbo agreed disagreeably. This wasn’t something they would be able to settle before Tommy left.
“Well boys,” Tommy said, “this is the end.”
“Maybe they’ll let you send letters?”
“Maybe Dream will let us receive letters?”
“Yeah,” Tommy said, “I’ll um.” Tommy wasn’t really sure how to say it, but neither of his brothers seemed to be able to either. They cried a little more, hugged a bit, and then people came to collect Tommy and his things. Ranboo and Tubbo’s lives and studies and responsibilities would carry on as if nothing happened, because in the grand scheme of things, had anything really changed?
The royal family had one less son wandering in the halls, but no one had died. It was just a strategic move. It was simple strategy.
Nothing was wrong.
Everything was normal.
Just Tommy was going to be ages from home in an unfamiliar place. His transport began without a hitch. Dream didn’t see him off. Tommy would probably never see his father again for a very long time.
Dream was probably okay with that.
The ride was painful. Not because of the lack of comfort, the transport carrying Tommy wasn’t exactly built for luxury, but it worked well enough. No, Tommy couldn't stand to see his home, his country pass by his. He’d never fucking see it again. They passed through the city, Tommy’s city . He had little claim to it as the third prince, but every bit as much claim as anyone living between the streets. This was his city, he was part of its lifeblood.
Losing a little bit of blood never really hurt anything anyway, though.
The roads went from paved to stone to dirt and Tommy’s head didn’t move. He just stared. He stared so much that the people attending to him grew worried, but Tommy waved them off as politely as he could, as distracted as he was. The journey was long, but not painfully so. They only had to each the border, where he would be picked up by another onvoy, this time a group from the Antarctic Empire, and then, he’d end up wherever King Philza decided was the best place for him.
When they reached the border, Tommy only felt drained. He should probably be more concerned with what was going on around him at this point, but really, nothing that Tommy did would change anything. He couldn’t change anything.
Acting was useless. Talking was useless. Tommy was useless. He should just … wait. Wait for the fate that awaited him, what else could he do?
Being his usual asshole self would mess up the proceedings possibly. Tommy could be stupid, but he wasn’t so stupid that he would lead to countries to war just because he wanted to take his anger out on someone else. There was no world where Tommy felt right changing this.
It felt like it had been no time and all time since Tommy had gotten in the transport. He hardly remembered the passage of time, he just knew that it was enough apparently, to bring him to the border between the SMP and the Antarctic. He knew that he had felt the air get colder as they moved north away from the capital. He knew that it would only be getting colder.
He knew this was where he would take his leave.
Tommy was called from his transport calmly, by attendants who clearly just wanted the send off to go smoothly. Hopefully, this wasn’t a ploy that would get Tommy murdered on the spot. That would suck (would it suck more than being sent away from home for the rest of his life? Tommy wasn’t sure. Maybe the empire should just shoot him in the head and put an end to his misery. But no, Tubbo and Ranboo and millions of innocents would suffer for that decision).
So instead, Tommy allowed himself to be drawn listenless outside and towards the bridge that marked the road between the two countries. It was innocuous. It was dreadful.
“ … Prince Theseus?” A voice questioned, stepping across the bridge that formed the border between the two countries. It was a small bridge, for such a great divide.
The speaker was tall. Shorter than Tommy, but broader. Tommy might joke about it, but he knew he was still lanky like a noodle. It was normal during the teenage years, yeah, definitely. This man was built like someone who would fit in easily on a battlefield. This was a peaceful meeting though, and he had only a sword with the royal family crest on it, probably more of a keepsake than an actual weapon.
His pink hair whipped furiously in the wind, but he made no move to pull it back.
“I am,” Tommy said, grabbing his items and stepping forward. This was the end. The end. He turned his head towards the envoy and booped the horse that had carried him and his party through the journey so well. She was a good girl. “Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”
“Technoblade,” the man said, almost sounding amused, and Tommy’s heart nearly stopped. Fuck. he really should have remembered better than that. Technoblade was one of
Philza’s fucking sons.
Tommy hadn’t had time to study the Antarctic Empire specifically before he left, but his lessons had covered their neighbors. Tommy was pretty sure that they had met before, when Tommy was much younger at a meeting, but his memories of that far back were hazy, and he couldn’t really be sure.
“I-apologies, you highness,” TOmmy said quickly, dropping to his knees, because that was what you did in the presence of royalty higher than yourself, hoping it might save him from the prince’s wrath. He cleaned up his bow, trying to make sure that it was properly respectful. He couldn’t entirely remember the bowing customs of the Antarctic Empire, even though he had studied all of the customs of nearby countries. In his panic, he couldn’t remember anything.
Prince Technoblade gave him an odd look, before returning the gesture. Was that … was that customary? Tommy searched his head. He was pretty sure that equals could avoid the pretense of bowing, or bow to each other, depending on the situation. Why was Prince Technoblade bowing though? He and Tommy weren’t fucking equals. Even Tubbo and Ranboo weren’t his equals (they did not care if Tommy did not bow to them. They did not want Tommy to bow to them).
A moment passed. Technoblade stood, and Tommy, hoping he was doing this right, copied him.
Technoblade’s eyes, previously glistening with what was probably amusement, seemed to be concerned now, for who Tommy didn’t know.
“Thank you for your acquaintance,” Tommy said, in his own customs, because once again, he couldn’t fucking remember the proper response in the Antarctic Empire. He’d have to figure everything out, before he was brought into the country. Technoblade nodded his head.
“The pleasure is mine,” Technoblade said, “The empire welcomes you.” And with that, Tommy’s attendants stepped away. No one was to come with him, according to Dream’s command Tommy wasn’t worth it. Why bother to spare the people?
“Technoblade,” someone shouted, once they crossed the bridge and were out of earshot of Tommy’s envoy. “You weren’t supposed to just go on ahead. There’s fucking procedures.”
“I got the kid,” Techno said, voice changing from the formal tone he had just used with Tommy. “Cool down, he’s literally fine.”
“If you don’t do it right, it could be qualified as kidnapping, Techno.” The two continued talking, but Tommy ignored them in favor of watching the water below the bridge run. Tommy wished that he could do that.
Run.
As far away from Tehcno and whoever this Sam guy was and back to Tubbo and Ranboo and everyone else that he actually knew.
“They took it well.”
“No, you just took a child.” How were they so casual? Wasn't Techno a prince? Then again, Tommy could be informal outside of the public eye. They were out in the middle of nowhere, and Tommy probably just didn’t count as a person, yeah. Yeah, probably that.
“Prince Theseus? No, he’s-” Techno stopped, “You’re the prince of the SMP that just turned nineteen, right?” Tommy cleared his throat.
“No,” he said, quietly.
“Hrm?”
“No,” Tommy said, a little bit louder so that Prince Technoblade would be able to hear him, “No, um, Tubbo just turned nineteen. I um. I’m the youngest, I’m seventeen.”
“Oh.” Prince Technoblade was silent for a moment. “DId you get all of your stuff together?”
“Yeah. Yes, Prince Technoblade.”
“Then let’s … then let’s go get you situated. It’s a bit of a travel to the capital.” Tommy was silent while he was led to a transport that could carry his things. Techno explained that he would be in the same one as Tommy, probably to watch him if he had a guess. Tommy agreed, because he was going to be as agreeable as possible on this trip even if it killed him.
He was probably going to end up dead anyway (he might implode if he kept trying to maintain his act, but he would die if he didn’t)
Good of the country, good of the country, this was for the good of his country, and TOmmy could do it. He would.
Tommy chucked his things into the transport. It was going to be a long few days.
It was silent at first. It was so fucking silent all of the time. Tommy would have loaded his things, but some people took his things to load and Tommy was left with Prince Technoblade.
Tommy was going to be walking on eggshells from now on.
Over the course of time, Tommy learned that Techno didn’t really talk all that much, when they weren’t surrounded by people that he evidently knew. The prince was polite enough, even though he really didn’t have to be (Tommy was on his turf now), but he didn’t talk.
Tommy, on the other hand, was dying for human interaction. He’d hardly talked as his journey out of the SMP, because well, being tossed out of your home as a bargaining chip tended to do that to people, but now that he was gone, he wanted to at least form a few connections so that he wouldn't feel like an archorless boat for all of eternity. He at very least wanted someone who he could talk with casually while he was on this journey.
“Prince Technoblade,” Tommy said, before waiting for acknowledgement. He took the small hmm? He got as acknowledgement, and hoped that it was enough. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but do you know of the … arrangements for me? While I am under the Empire’s care?” Tommy hoped the wording was good enough, and that the question itself wasn’t bad enough to simply be called rude or out of line.
“Were you not told?” Tommy flushed. Great. Starting off the conversation with a nice dosage of humiliation. His favorite. Technoblade gave him a look. “I guess … obviously not. We do have a document detailing it that we sent to your king. You will have a quarters in the castle, and you’ll be able to continue whatever your studies at home were, or slightly adjusted, depending on what tutors we have available.”
“Thank you,” Tommy said, “Would I-uh, nevermind.” It was probably too soon to even ask about home. It had hardly been any time since they left in the first place, certainly Technoblade wouldn’t appreciate it.
Honestly, Tommy didn't remember how old the other man was, and while he’d love to pester him (he looked very pesterable) he also didn’t want him to decide that Tommy's country was worth going to war against after all.
So, other questions, even ones he really wanted to ask were going to have to wait until Tommy could get a hold of the document that told him what was going on or until he was around someone who it was appropriate to ask.
Tommy played the waiting game.
Tommy hated the waiting game.
It was something he had been taught since he had been a child. Patience was a virtue, and Prime, everyone expected it of him.
Growing up, Tommy had been a bit less of a priority. It sounded stupid to say, in the face of the fact that he was a literal prince, but inevitably, he ended up below his brothers. It made sense, you had the heir, the spare, and then … then there was Tommy.
Tommy didn’t want the throne. It was probably important to note that Tommy really, he could care less about the whole thing.
No. Tommy wanted some fucking attention. If being good couldn't bring it, then perhaps being loud, being disruptive would work. Nothing could bring his father’s eyes to him except when Dream decided, probably arbitrarily, that he wanted to see Tommy. But still, someone would look and that was better than nobody.
Tubbo and Ranboo, of course, were always there. Tommy adored them, not that he said as much often. God he wanted to be with them right now.
But war.
Country.
Heir
Spare
And Tommy.
But Tommy knew how to be patient. He could. He could do that. And be fine. Tommy was going to have to control himself from now on better anyways. Foregin court with foreign rules, thankfully a similar language, differing a bit in accent and slang, but more or less the same.
Huh. well. Small comforts.
The journey passed. Technoblade hardly spoke aside from small comments, and Tommy followed suit. He didn't know what would be expected of him, so he did his best to copy and hope he was right.
Tommy could tell when they arrived in the capital. The road had been dirt for miles, and then boom. Stones. The clatter of hooves on stones woke Tommy up, and in the sunset, Tommy saw the glistening capital of the Antarctic Empire. It was beautiful, and Tommy should have expected nothing less. Everything was snowy, and the crystals glittered in the falling sunlight like a thousand gems strewn through the city. A wall bordered the capital.
Tommy looked out until his face got cold. When they had entered the Antarctic, and it had begun getting colder, Tommy had been determined to get through it. The SMP covered a lof of ranges of temperature, but stupid cold was not one of them, unfortunately, and Tommy didn’t bring a coat nearly warm enough for himself. Technobalde, however, had apparently noticed, because Tommy had woken up to the Prince’s own coat draped on him multiple times, as he was already wearing a coat offered by the prince himself. It was dyed with the Antarctic's blue rather than any familiar home colors, but Tommy accepted it all the same. It was warm.
“Your face is going to freeze out there,” Prince Technoblade said, “You might want to stop peeking out. You’’ll be able to see the city plenty once we get through the gates.” The thing was, Tommy wasn’t sure if that was true. Technoblade could certainly mean well, but honestly? Who was to keep King Philza from just keeping TOmmy behind the walls of the castle itself. Or in a room or a wing and never letting him out. It would be his right, Tommy knew, and not necessarily unheard of and even frowned upon in this arrangement. He was allowed. He could.
Tommy couldn't stop him.
Regardless, Tommy listened and tucked his head back into the carriage that he and Techno were in. His face was starting to feel kind of like it was melting now that he was back in the warmth.
“You're cold,” Technoblade said, in a tone that Tommy now understood was probably a teasing reprimand, as he’d gotten to know the other prince better over the journey. Technoblade scooched close enough to Tommy that he could feel the heat from the other’s body. In a smooth movement, Technoblade draped his cape around Tommy. “You need to keep warm, you idiot.” Tommy agreed. Anything less would be rude, and really, Tommy did want to stay warm.
“So,” Technoblade said, “Do you know of my family? Just so you know before you have to meet all of those people.”
“I think so,” Tommy said, not wanting to appear overconfident in case he forgot someone or something dumb.
“Right,” Techno said, “Well there’s Phil. he’s-god, he’s the guy with the big fucking wings? If you aren’t careful, you might run into the crows that surround him. God, those things are idiots. Anyway, Phil is the king, yeah, you’ll probably meet him. And Wilbur.” Techno’s face wrinkled like he was trying to be disgusted, but he just ended up looking fond. “Wilbur’s WIlbur. My older brother. Looks kind of like he’s got a dirty mop on his head, but that’s just his hair.”
What.
Well that was certainly. An introduction. Tommy probably wouldn’t introduce someone as unfamiliar as a literal hostage to his family like that, but Technoblade might think it was funny. After all, it wasn’t like Tommy was much of a threat at all, he was just Tommy.
“Thanks, Prince Technoblade,” Tommy said, even though the information that Technoblade gave him was fucking useless unless he wanted to make fun of the royal family, which he probably shouldn’t.
-
Technoblade watched Tommy carefully, as the kid tried to freeze his face off before he even got into the city proper.
Techno would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly nervous to meet the prince of the SMP. Meeting new people could certainly be … nerve wracking, but the particular circumstances made it worse.
Number one: none of Techno’s family was here. He would admit to himself, in specific situations, he may … use his family members to buffer him from strangers.
Number two: Technoblade was tired from the journey. Two weeks was long enough.
Number three: If he messed this up, it would possibly lead to war.
Great.
He’d (possibly?) have to interact with the king of the SMP, and that wouldn’t really be a big deal if he were in court behind nice protocols, but his country was kind of stealing his child away, so he’d probably be pretty pissed off.
Although, he did agree to the deal
(how much choice did a parent really have when it was between his child and an entire country full of other people’s children?)
Once they got to the border, Techno gathered his nerves and approached the border. The border between the SMP and home wasn’t very guarded. Yet.
Dream didn’t show his face. Techno didn’t know whether to be relieved or horrified that he just sent his son off alone.
He had dressed a bit warmly for the weather, but most of his clothes were made for warmth, after all, his home was freezing cold.
(his first home was warm and burning, not much of a home, but it was all he had back then. Before Phil found him, and saved him.)
But now that he was finally home, the clothes were paying off
“So uh,” Technoblade said when they arrived at the castle, “usually, we would do introductions and court appearances and stuff right now, but we’re both tired probably, because i know I am, and I probably haven’t had half the days that you have had recently, so I’m just going to show you your room for now and someone will collect you in a few hours once you have had the chance to actually rest and clean up a bit.”
“Of course, Prince Technobladde,” Theseus said, because that was all Theseus said when Techno was asking him questions.
“Cool, just … follow me I guess.” Tommy followed Techno through the halls of the castle which actually kind of reminded him of home. The architecture was different of course and they actually had heating here, but there were still tapestries detailing family and country victories. Important events and gods and changing of rule and wars. Those gave way to a more personal dwelling, much like the personal wing of Tommy’s castle had. Well, not Tommy’s castle-not his home anymore.
“This is where you’ll be staying,” Technoblade said, stopping in front of a door and swinging it open, “If you need anything, feel free to let me or anyone else know and we’ll be able to make you more comfortable. Someone will come to collect you in a few hours. Welcome home, Theseus.”
-
And then, for the first time in a long time, Tommy was alone.
He did his best to wipe off the tears and make it look like he was never crying in the first place. He bathed. He wandered the room. It was … it was a lovely room. There was a small bathroom attached, well “small” in comparison to the rest of the room. It was certainly up to princely standards, and more than TOmmy could probably expect fairly.
The room itself was impersonal, as Tommy had expected it to be, but the flag of the SMP was draped across the bed post. Obviously that hadn’t been part of the original room. Somehow had added that, as a courtesy to Tommy.
God that was so nice of them. Tommy would hug them, except he wasn’t going to hug anyone here.
This was going to be home, for the next indefinite amount of time.
Oh.
It also seemed like there was a balcony, which was so cool. Tommy was totally going to clamber out there if he got clothes that were appropriate for the elements in the Antarctic empire. Even if it would piss of the Antarctic empire it would be totally worth it. Not really, but still. Still.
He changed his clothes into something less gross (It was hardly formal, a red and white shirt and comfortable pants. He’d have to change before anyone came to collect him, but come on, he was homesick already, the last thing he wanted was to be uncomfortable.)
The bed was comfortable, but different from the one he had at home. It made sense. It was a different country with different supplies and also, beds were just different.
Tommy hated it.
Tommy hated this whole thing, but if he acted like he did, something bad could happen.
Exhausted from his journey, Tommy passed out, hoping the whole thing could just be a nightmare.