Chapter Text
Technoblade knows what freedom is.
He knows that it is a precious, priceless thing, the equivalent of cool air in your lungs, the bright sun upon your face. He knows it is like the birds that fly across the clouds nearly every day, those little creatures harboring the ability to go wherever they please, not a single thing being able to stop them. He knows it is something like a fairytale, impossible and dreamlike. Entirely out of reach.
Freedom is not meant for him. Not here.
In this place, with cages within stone walls, torches of fire held up into the air, screaming cheers from the sidelines, there is no freedom. There is not a single scrap of it to be found here, there are no open doors, no bright paths out. There are only chains around his wrists, long nights curled up on the dirt floors, a heavy red-stained sword held in his palm.
The ones in charge bark their orders at him day after day, pushing him out into the battlegrounds, demanding that he spills blood. They tell him to fight, tell him to behave, tell him to get in his cage and wait for sunlight so it can all start again.
Techno listens. He simmers with quiet anger and tears his opponents apart, soaks in the shrieking cries from the audience surrounding him. He listens, and waits, and when the higher ups deem the results good enough, he’s allowed to return to the single person in this hell that has ever taught him what it’s like to live.
Techno doesn’t know real freedom, but he has Wilbur.
That, he thinks, is good enough.
Today, Techno’s fought well. He’s been put away into his cage to switch out the opponents, and from there, Technoblade strains his ears to hear any words of gossip shared around from the people who pass by his bars. He only gets bits and pieces, stray conversations, but he’s had practice over the years with being able to listen in on quiet conversations.
His ear twitches as he tilts his head to the side to try and hear two men down the hall. They speak of slit throats, fallen opponents, a battle that nearly seemed like a dance. Names are not given, but Techno knows his twin’s fighting style. He knows the way Wilbur can be quick and efficient, dragging out the fight with dramatic gestures, pretty movements that make it seem like there’s music in the air.
The crowds seem to love it, at least. The higher ups seem happy. Satisfied.
Techno sits back in his corner, fragile hope settling within his chest. He waits, and hears of Wilbur fighting well, and listens to the faint cheering echoing through the stone walls.
Night comes over the arena. The audience stands go empty and quiet, people leaving to come another day. The blood on the fighting grounds is washed away, and the opponents are all returned back to their proper cages.
Techno is taken out of his cage.
His chains are yanked at harshly, and he stumbles down the hall, picking up his pace so they may not become angry with him being too slow. His head stays tilted down, but he scans everything around him with a careful eye, tension rippling through him, fear digging into his skin.
Underneath it all, there is excitement. Behind the waves of dread, there is a quiet joy.
They stop in front of another cage. One that Techno is familiar with.
“Alright, you’ve both been doing fairly well this week, so you get until the morning, right at the crack of dawn, got it?” The higher ups tell him, but Techno barely hears it. He lifts his head up, hair falling into his face but not entirely blocking out the sight of red eyes staring back, identical to his own.
Through the dimness of the room, Techno can’t quite make out his brother’s face, but he can see him crouched down on the floor, hunched over as if he is trying to disappear into the dark. His tail keeps fidgeting behind him, nervous. Hesitant. There’s a soft rumbling that lifts through to his ears.
The person handling him tugs at his chains a bit as the other goes to unlock the door. “And you better get to sleep, because Blade here is going out into the arena first thing in the morning. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow.”
Techno huffs with the news, but doesn’t say a word. It isn’t as if they’re expecting a response. Wilbur’s eyes narrow into something upset, and Techno can practically see the scowl pulled across his face. He knows why. Blade is not Techno’s name. It is just an unwanted nickname he’s won ever since he showed what he could do in a fight.
Wil hates the title. Almost as much as he hates his own. Dancer , they call him. For the way he’s grown quick and graceful with his sword. Blade , they call his brother, for the way he’s so brutal and deadly with his battles.
The use of the name on Techno makes Wilbur grow irritated, especially since Techno is right there, so close. Almost within reach. Something protective curls up within Wil’s heart, and the rumbling coming from his chest shifts into a low growl.
Techno sends him a warning look. Wilbur bites his tongue, but by then he’s already gone too far.
“Oh, shut up. Do you want a night together or not?” The man speaks harshly at Wil, annoyance heavy in his tone. “We could wait another week, if you’re going to keep acting like that.”
The cage goes silent. Wilbur holds still, his tail falling onto the ground.
“No.” Wilbur looks down towards the ground, his voice frail. Techno digs his nails into his palms, wanting to lunge forward at the two men, kill them right here. It would bring more consequences than benefits, though. They would be separated for months, if he ever tried such a thing. “I’m sorry.” Wil apologizes.
“Uh-huh.” Wil’s apology is hardly appreciated. It’s mostly ignored, and thankfully, they move past it.
There’s a click of a key being turned, and Techno watches as the door swings open with a slight creak. The person holding his chains lets them go with caution, and there’s a push at his shoulder to make him head forward.
“Alright, go in.”
Techno doesn’t need to be told twice. He lunges forward, right back into a cage, right back into being trapped, but there’s no regret with it, because Wilbur is there. Wilbur is there, on the ground, and he reaches his arms out from where he is, eyes wide. Techno reaches his hands out as well, his shackles clinking together with the movement.
They slam into each other with bruising grips, and Techno kneels down in front of Wil, lifting his arms and slipping them over Wilbur’s head so he can hold him close. He tries to hide Wil away in his embrace, so as to not let the people behind them look at him for a second more. Wilbur curls up into his chest, hands digging into the back of his shirt. Techno’s tail wraps loosely around one of his wrists.
He is shaking in Techno’s arms. He’s a little cold, possibly hurt, but Techno can’t check because there are still eyes on them. The higher ups are still watching, the door still open, and there is the noise of amused laughter rising through the air.
A jolt of fear strikes through Techno at the thought of the words before being only a cruel lie. Maybe he will only get a minute, nothing more. Maybe they will pull him out right now, letting this hug be the only thing he may have for the next few days. It’s not the first time they’ve done it.
He holds Wilbur tighter. A rumble comes from his throat, and turns into a snarl with the sound of the door creaking onces more. Wilbur rumbles in response, a low vibration from his chest.
“Shut it.” Someone demands. Techno presses his face into Wilbur’s curls, trying to go silent.
There’s a click of a lock. A rush of relief goes through Techno. They were telling the truth.
The eyes look away. Footsteps trail off down the hall, light conversation fading away. The place is left in darkness, leaving the two twins there, sitting in their cage.
Techno is the one who speaks first.
He moves away, leaning back as much as the chains on his wrists will allow, his arms still wrapped around Wilbur’s shoulders. Pressing his forehead to Wil’s, Techno spots blood smeared across his face, just over his ear. The sight makes his heart jump with panic.
“Are you hurt?” Techno asks, his words nothing more than a whisper. “I heard your fights went well, weren’t they satisfied with it?” His eyes trail down to try and see any pressing injuries, any open wounds, but there is nothing to see. There are blood stains on Wilbur’s sleeves, but they are not fresh. There is thankfully nothing to suggest Wil has gone through punishment, nor a bad fight.
“They were satisfied.” Wilbur responds, his eyes closed. “It’s not my blood.”
Techno hums at that. Must’ve just been a messy battle, then.
He curls a palm at the back of Wilbur’s neck, and they stay like that for a moment, resting their heads together, holding on tight. As if the higher ups will be returning at any second, to take their words back and to tear them apart.
Wil raises his hands to push at Techno’s arms, lifting them off his shoulders so his brother’s hands can instead rest on his lap. The chains clink as they’re jostled, and Wilbur pulls at them with his fingers, a frown set on his face.
His own hands are free. Littered with bruises and marks, but still without restraints. Wilbur gets the privilege of having his chains taken off once he’s gone with battles, so that he may heal and rest properly for the next day.
Techno doesn’t get that privilege. He’s bigger, stronger, more deadly than Wil is, and so he scares their handlers. He’s considered a risk, a possible danger, and they would keep him in his cage for every second he’s not in the arena, if it weren’t for the fact they know they can use Wil against him.
They know how much Technoblade would do for Wilbur. They know how much they would both do just for a single hour, a minute, a second together.
So they use that to their advantage.
Wilbur despises it.
“Did they hurt you?” He asks, a hint of sharp anger at the edge of his tongue. Technoblade might be the more brutal one within the arena, the one with more strength, but Wilbur has always bested him with the sheer fury he holds in his words, his expression, his very movement.
They both know where the anger comes from. Wil uses the emotion to his benefit during battles. Sometimes, it helps.
Techno shakes his head, much to Wilbur’s relief. “No. My fights have been going well.” The higher ups have been happy, and so there is no consequence.
“That’s good.” Wil nods, just barely.
The tension in the air doesn’t quite settle, but it does shift, and Wil feels as if he can breathe a little more. He pulls Techno into a proper hug, Techno’s hands and chains squished between them both. Techno rests his chin onto Wilbur’s shoulder, closing his eyes with a short sigh.
“Anythin’ interesting happened with your battles?” Techno asks, Wilbur snorting.
“Other than my few recent opponents, nothing much has changed.” Wil’s hands fiddle with the ends of Techno’s hair, and he notes how both their hair is beginning to grow a little long. Eventually, they’ll have knives taken to it to cut it shorter once more, but until then, it stays like this, a little tangled, a little dirty, matching brown curls.
Techno whacks gently at Wil’s elbows with his tail, and Wilbur laughs under his breath. He begins to make a braid, something small and tucked away. Something they won’t notice, so Techno can keep it.
“I’ve heard you’ve been particularly ruthless.” Techno says, an unsaid question in his words.
“They were pissing me off.” Wil huffs. Techno gives a small chuckle. “And I wasn’t sure how much longer we would have to wait. I got frustrated.” He confesses, a tangled mess of resentment slowly beginning to unwind as Techno gives a low hum against his shoulder.
“It has been a long while.” Techno admits. He counts his days as they go by, but sometimes it all just feels so dragged out. As if he will be sent off into the fighting grounds over and over for eternity, never being allowed to return to Wil.
There’s no set schedule with being able to see each other again in this arena. They are at the mercy of the higher ups, and it all depends on if Wil and Techno do well during their fights. It depends on them keeping the audience happy, entertained. On them giving a show.
They are the star fighters, the best of the best in this cursed place. They give their all to stay together, and as a result, they’ve earned their worth. It is a pathetic, small sort of worth, but it is something. They have lived, and they have been able to stay together. That is all that matters.
“And you? How have your battles gone?” Wilbur asks, Techno shifting his head on his shoulder.
“Hm. Boring. There was one person who was stronger than I’d thought they’d be.”
Wilbur raises his eyebrows in interest, and in slight fear. “Oh? And did they get a hit in?”
“No. Not a scratch.” Techno reassures. He’s got a reputation for staying untouched within battle. If he breaks that reputation, the higher ups get a little prickly. “They fell eventually, but it was a good attempt.”
“I’m sure the crowd gave their cheers.” Wilbur finishes with the braids in Techno’s hair, and he drops his hands with a content smile. “Flowers and everything.”
Techno snorts. “The flowers were a one time thing.” It had been a shock, to have a rose actually be thrown to him, pretty and bright. Techno was not allowed to keep it, but he had managed to hold onto a single petal. He had given it to Wil two nights later.
It was shriveled up and dead, but it was still the best gift he could offer. Wilbur had loved it.
Techno opens his eyes as Wilbur pats at his back, urging him to move. “Come on, let's lay down.”
“I’d rather not sleep.” Even if he is being sent out for fighting first tomorrow, he wants to savor every single minute left with his twin. He doesn’t know when they’ll have this again. He’s not sure how long he’ll be forced to wait.
“We don’t have to sleep.” Wilbur bargains, giving a yawn. Techno suddenly feels much more inclined to lay down. He will not sleep, but he can let Wilbur rest. Having Wil beside him, even while unconscious, that’s good enough for him. “I’m just exhausted.”
“It’s been a long day.” Techno says, and he scoots back, lifting his chained wrists up. “Move underneath my arms.”
Wilbur frowns a bit. “You’ll be uncomfortable.”
“I want to hold you.”
Wil rolls his eyes, but he complies, and Techno hugs him close with the shackles clinking behind WIlbur’s back. They rest on the ground like that, and Techno rests his chin onto Wilbur’s hair, Wilbur’s tail waving through the air lazily.
Wilbur had said they didn’t need to sleep, but he practically dozes off right there, an arm thrown over Techno’s waist, his eyes closing and opening with fatigue pulling at his energy. He gives a hum from his throat, as if singing a quiet song, and Techno responds with a low rumble from his chest.
Now it is Techno’s turn to fiddle with Wilbur’s hair. He does just as his twin did, and begins a small, hidden braid within the curls. Wilbur’s humming doesn’t pause for a second as Techno works, and the mood slips into something calm.
It’s not safe, not quite, with how the bars still surround them, with the threat of people returning to tear them apart, with the metal around Techno’s wrists. But it’s calm. Nearly peaceful.
Techno smiles over Wilbur’s head, and listens as the humming in his ears slowly drifts away into slow, deep breaths. Eventually, Wilbur falls asleep, and Techno’s not surprised at all. He falls asleep quick on the nights where they’re together.
Techno sleeps better when they’re together too. Even with knowing they’ll be separated come morning, there is still comfort to be found in this moment right here. In this calm, silent cage, with his brother sleeping soundly in his arms.
This is freedom.
Technoblade is a shackled arena fighter, trapped and without escape, but here, it's different.
Here, on this night, in this quiet moment, Techno is free.
---
They wake up in the morning to the sound of banging against the metal bars. A harsh wake-up call from their blissful sleep.
Wilbur startles out of his rest, jolting in Techno’s arms, and he lifts his head with a snarl.
“Get up!” Someone yells back, adding on for him to be quiet. Wilbur only gives another sharp growling noise, his hands digging into Techno’s shirt.
“Don’t.” Techno warns. Wilbur looks towards him with a desperate face, anger simmering just behind his eyes. As if asking that for just this once, they can try and fight back. Try and stay together, tear out the throats of anyone who tries to even touch them.
It’s a tempting thing.
But it’s not a good idea. Fighting against them never goes well, because no matter what, they are in a cage, and Techno is in chains. They’re always at a disadvantage, because while Techno and Wil are the fighters in this arena, they are not invulnerable. Fire and sharp edges of a blade will still hurt them, even if they swing back.
When you are pushed in a corner with no way out, the best thing to do is to just comply. They’ve learnt that the hard way.
Chattering voices raise up past the cage with the familiar jingle of keys, and Wilbur holds on even tighter.
“Please.” Wilbur begs, barely even a whisper.
“ Don’t .” Techno pleads back, because if they struggle, if they lose, what then? How long will they have to wait, then? This is all they have, if they lose this, Techno doesn’t know what he’ll do.
Wilbur closes his eyes with a whine, but relents, his head jerking into a short nod. Techno gives one last loving squeeze around his shoulders, before pulling away as quick as possible, on his feet before they even fully turn the lock. Wil scoots back, hiding away into the corner, trying to not be noticed. Trying to fall back to sleep.
Techno’s dragged out with eyes on him, hands pushing him forward, voices calling out orders. The door behind him clicks shut, and he’s escorted out to the first fight of the day.
The routine goes on.
Techno takes a sword in hand, and the crowd cheers. The chains on his wrists are separated for battle, and Techno tears into his opponents with something brutal, something a bit more violent than just a usual need to win. Blood stains the fighting grounds, and Techno stays unharmed, his hands dirty.
He fights, he kills, and he wins. The audience cries out in joy, exchanging won bets, clapping at the good show they’ve been given.
He’s put into his own separate cage later that night. They push him in and tell him to sleep, and Techno lays down in the dark with Wil’s company being too far.
He doesn’t sleep.
---
A week passes before they get to see each other again.
It is the same as all the other times, except Techno’s door is opened early at night, just barely after sundown.
Men call him out and grab at his shackles, and Techno stumbles along with surprise and confusion. He doesn’t manage to keep his head low, rather instead looking at the people escorting him along, wondering why he’s going so early.
He won’t protest. But the change in schedule makes him uneasy. They never give this much time.
It’s explained when Techno arrived at Wil’s cage, Wilbur sitting too close to the bars, his eyes wide with something like hope. The sight is so unfamiliar, yet so kind, and it makes Techno want to drop down across the bars and reach through towards him.
“Alright.” One of the handlers speaks up, Techno being held in place, Wilbur listening close from his cage. “You both better listen closely, because this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance, you got it? You fuck this up, we’ll never let you two stay together ever again.”
Techno’s heart drops with terror. He stands up straight, and locks eyes with Wilbur, seeing how the joy in his expression is stifled out with pure fear. His hands are curling around the metal bars, holding on tightly, and Techno holds onto his own chains, wishing it was Wilbur’s own hand, wishing he was just a little closer.
They listen with the best of their attention.
“We’ve been notified that for tomorrow, we’ll be getting a visit from the royal family. His Majesty, the king, the queen, and the prince are coming here . They’ll be watching from the audience stands.”
Shock settles onto both Techno and Wilbur, and they stare with baffled faces.
The royals?
The actual royal family? Coming here?
Techno doesn’t know much about them, to be entirely honest, but he’s heard stories from Wil, who’s heard rumors from the occasional passing person walking past his cage. They know that the royal family is widely respected, and that they supposedly rule the land that they are in, but other than that, there’s not much else they have to their knowledge.
The king and queen are simply important. That much is obvious, seeing from how they’re getting this announcement.
Why would a king and queen need to come see a bloody, violent fight in an arena, though?
The handler goes on. “So, for their arrival, we’re pulling out only the best fighters, to give a real show. You’re both going out into the arena tomorrow. Together.”
Wilbur sucks in a quiet breath, and he leans back from view, eyes wide. Techno feels the same. The air feels a little thin, and his heart is beating far too quickly for him just standing still. He doesn’t know what to make of it.
“You’ll both be fighting against any opponents we set out. For tonight, you’ll be allowed to stay together. If you do well, and the king is satisfied, then we’ll let you have an entire week together.”
The world seems to pause at that. Techno’s breath comes to a halt in his lungs.
He tears his eyes away from the person speaking, and looks at his twin, wondering if this is just a desperate dream. Maybe he’s misheard this. Maybe his mind is playing tricks, or maybe the higher ups are the ones playing a cruel trick.
But if this were a trick, they wouldn’t be giving them a night together. They keep Wil and Techno separated as often as they can, deeming it too much of a risk to let them stay for any longer than a single night.
And now they’ve offered a week. An entire week.
Wilbur’s staring back at Techno, frozen with shock, shoulders shaking with disbelief. Just barely, Techno can see the beginning of tears at the edge of his eyes, and just from the sight alone, he feels near crying too.
They seem to agree on something, within that single frozen moment of realization.
They can’t let this chance fall out of their hands.
The world continues on. Techno tunes back into what he’s being told.
“-think of strategies, fighting plans, whatever you want. Just make it a show worth watching, understand?” Both Wil and Techno nod. “Alright. That’s it, then. Put him in.”
Technoblade watches numbly as they go to unlock the door, Wilbur scattering away out of reach, curling up in the shadows like he always does. The cage creaks open, and Techno’s pushed inside, fumbling with his steps and falling onto the ground.
He sits up, looking behind him, watching as the door is closed and locked up. He watches as the people walk away, taking the light with them, leaving the twins in the dark. Their voices fade off down the dim hallway, drifting off into nothing, and only then does he breathe a bit easier.
Techno turns back around towards the rest of the cage, his chains dragging against the dirt floor. Wilbur’s red eyes are glowing brightly through the dark, and then they’re coming at him, and Techno doesn’t even bother trying to dodge. Instead he just cracks a grin.
Wilbur slams into him, the two of them rolling across the ground, Wil giving a breathless, quiet laugh.
“A week!” He says, not too loud, but still far less quiet than usual. “An entire week, we- we can have a week!”
“Shh.” Techno shushes him, but he’s laughing too, feeling too invincible. There’s the sensation of victory settling over his shoulders, and it’s far more satisfying than any battle he’s ever had in the arena. He grabs at Wilbur’s hands, trying to make his twin sit up. “Shh- you’re going to make them come back!” The threat is a real thing, but for some reason the danger feels so far. It feels muffled, against the joy. Techno can’t help but smile.
“You shh!” Wilbur pushes at him, and they both go tumbling down again, grappling at each other with choked off laughter. “Techno, Techno, we get to fight together. We can go into the arena together!”
“I know, I heard.” Techno pushes at Wilbur, Wil grabbing at his arm and holding it close to his chest.
“And the king is going to watch .” Wilbur gasps, the words seeming to finally sink in minutes later. “The entire royal family is going to watch, Techno-”
“I know , I heard.” Techno snorts, trying to free his arm from Wilbur’s grasp. No luck. He leans against Wilbur instead, and they both fall down, resting on the floor. He lays his head against Wilbur’s shoulder with a huff. “Bit of a different audience, this time around, I guess.” He tries to go for a light tone, and ignores the way his voice wavers a bit with nerves. His heart is still slamming in his chest, trying to come down from the surprise of the sudden change.
“Very fucking different audidence, Technoblade, they’re literal royalty. It’s going to be the actual king, and the queen as well- holy shit, the queen is going to be watching.”
Techno lifts his head. Tries to think. He can only vaguely remember rumors of the king, words of his wings and abilities of flight. He can’t recall anything of the queen at all. Wilbur’s always been the one to be better with gossip than him. “Is she nice?”
“She’s-! Ohhh, gods.” Wilbur trails off, taking in a deep breath and letting it out in something of a wheeze. “She is. I think. I hope so. She used to be a war general, did you know?”
Techno blinks. “Really?”
“The best of the best.” Wilbur mutters, reaching a hand up to Techno’s head and running his fingers through his hair absent-mindedly. “She was the- general of death, or something like that. Lady Death. Queen Death. Something with the death.”
“And… she’s going to be here tomorrow.” Techno says slowly.
“With the king. And their son. To watch a few fights.”
Dread sinks into Techno’s heart. Just a bit. “Oh no.”
“No, no, this is good!” Wilbur shakes his head, tugging lightly at Techno’s hair. “We’re good fighters! We can- I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Techno makes an unsure noise in the back of his throat. Wilbur pokes at his ear.
“We’re going to be fine.” Wilbur repeats, like he’s giving a promise. “We’ll be fighting together.”
“That is an advantage.” Techno hums, adjusting himself against Wil to lay just a little more comfortably. “It’s been too long.” He sighs.
“When did we even last fight in the arena side by side?” Wilbur asks aloud, frowning a bit. “I can only recall training…”
“I don’t know. But I meant it’s been too long without a visit.”
Wilbur huffs. “We’ll have a week, soon.”
“If all goes well.”
“It will go well.” Wilbur insists, something fierce with his words. “We’ll win.”
Techno smiles. “We will.”