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The invitation arrives via the western wind.
Literally. The envelope sweeps along through the air, far across the slowly-thawing tundra, and lands at the foot of the Arctic Anarchist base's fence, labeled with a chicken-scratch scrawl of Technoblade in thick red ink.
"This would be a terrible idea even if you merely thought about going," Phil says, leaning over Techno's shoulder. His own invitation arrived the previous night, along with a short explanation about the lack of hard feelings about Wilbur's death. "Quackity is dangerous, Techno, and he hates you a lot."
"Yes," Techno says, grabbing a quill and scrap of paper. "Wilbur requests my presence, though, and I have the armor to fend for myself. I must respect my brother's wishes."
"You sound very stoic when you speak like that," Phil grumbles, turning away, and Techno begins writing his R.S.V.P.
Two weeks after, Techno and Phil arrive via Nether Portal to the property of Las Nevadas. It's a beautiful town with an icy wind whipping through and a certain ache of grief hanging over each building. Even without knowing the full story, Techno can read the desire to rebuild and move past the pain in each flourish of grand architecture.
"Techno!" Foolish calls. There is forced neutrality laid over the property for the reception, though Techno has always been intrigued by the minor god that is Foolish. His body is small, in no way his usual towering form, and Techno knows he himself has the upper hand intimidation-wise. "How you been, man?"
"Fine," Techno replies, because it's the honest truth. The months after prison have been desperately quiet, save for MICHAEL's rescue, but that's over and done with. "Has everyone in the realm been invited?"
"Yeah. I know George is asleep, and also he and Wilbur have some past stuff together so I'm not surprised he's missing, and I think Dream is pretty much banned from every place in the realm at this point so he's not likely to show." Foolish grins that stupid, dopey smile of his. "I'm glad that you're here! You look very intimidating, Technoblade."
"That was the goal," Techno says. He towers over most of the realm's inhabitants already, but with the dark boots, heavy and obviously enchanted armor, and swords across his back, Techno looks like he's ready for war rather than a wedding. Paranoia had led to the armor; confidence had led to the many, many knives tucked all over his person. "Where are the happy couple?"
"Still in their respective dressing areas," Foolish replies. "Then the ceremony, then the reception, then back to real life."
Chat helpfully whispers about the WWI pause for Christmas, though Techno's not sure what that's all about, and he instead turns to scan the slim pile of guests. He sees allies and enemies alike: Bad and Skeppy are at the refreshments; Phil, Puffy, and Niki have struck up a conversation; Ant and Punz are watching from the sidelines; Tommy and Tubbo are standing close, obviously unsure of their movements surrounded by so many people; new faces are peppered about, people who Techno will likely never learn the names of. It's a healthy guest list, missing a few choice people, notably Dream, George, and both of Quackity's ex-fiances.
The ceremony is quick and tense. Though Wilbur glows through it, clad in an intricate yet ratty white get-up that's halfway between a ballgown and his old trench coat, and Quackity stands tall and proud in his expensive suit, the vows are barely-there admittances of minor hatred towards each other and it's obvious this is an unhealthy relationship. Wilbur's instability seems to have translated strongly to his revived self and Quackity seems to have his mind on other things. Techno just sits quietly, knowing he has no say in the matter at all, and claps when the two men kiss once Bad pronounces them husbands.
Afterward, the reception is just as tension-filled. Techno is skirted around by everyone except his closest allies, meaning he has few people to speak to, and that also means his outfit works wonders. He greets Wilbur at one point, commenting on the beauty of the facility, and Wilbur laughs about it for a little too long before showing off the heavy ring on his finger.
It takes nearly two hours of ceremony and reception before Techno is called away. Chat starts a minor uproar at first, claiming Dream is in the vicinity, and before Techno knows it, he hears the soft whistle deemed as their code and turns, seeing a momentary splash of green disappearing far into the city. Despite his stature, Techno slips away quietly, murmuring to Chat that Phil should be informed of his whereabouts.
"Aren't you a wanted criminal?" Techno asks when he finds Dream snuggled in the alley between two buildings, leaning against the brick wall and tossing a half-eaten apple from hand to hand.
"I am," Dream says simply. "You are, too. Quackity hates you just as much as he hates me, so why'd you get the invite to his wedding?"
"It was upon my brother's request."
"You can stop being formal around me, Techie, you know what went down back in the prison cell," Dream teases, his sneer all poison. He takes a crunch of the apple, his jaw obviously stronger than necessary for consuming the fruit, and his teeth snap together with a menacing clack. "A shame that Wilbur didn't come to settle down with me instead."
"He's broken," Techno says, and before Dream can answer, "in a different way than you and I are."
"Yeah?" Dream unhooks his mask, revealing the branded 'Q' on his temple when he pushes his hair back, as well as the stripes of scars marring his features. His left eye remains blank and gray, clouded over and dead. "We've all got scars, Techno."
"I realize that." Techno sighs. It used to be a shock to see Dream without his mask, but now, it's just like he's removing a jacket or a pair of shoes: trivial and simple and mostly meaningless. "But he's been through Hell. Literally. And despite all of your misgivings, you've felt good things in the last twelve years of your life. Wilbur hasn't."
"Good things? Remind me of them, Techno." Dream finishes the apple in two more bites, core and all, and spits the seeds against the bricks in front of him. "They've gotten fuzzy, you know."
Techno sighs. Even in their continuous dance around each other, the prowling for territory and further knowledge of their counterpart, Techno knows this is a losing battle. It's happened a thousand times before: Dream flirts and Techno will always, always deny him of anything further than what they already have. Then Dream will leave and they'll continue on with their game.
"Get out of here. Now. Just- gods, Dream, I'm walking on thin ice as it is."
"Yeah, and that's the fun part." Dream grins. "Expect a visitor tonight for dinner, sweetheart. And do wish the happy couple my best; the ceremony was beautiful."
With that, Dream is gone, teleporting away with the same cool emotion the wind whispers through a moment later. Techno stares at the alley, waiting for something else to happen, but it never does.
That evening, with Phil still back in Las Nevadas, the compound is quiet and Techno walks along, seeing the purple and yellow crocuses beginning to peek out of the snow, signifying spring is nearly here. He bends for a moment, running a finger over one of the small flowers, and hums in fascination that they can persist through the iciness of winter's dregs.
"Rabbit and potato soup, tonight, I hope?" Dream's voice crashes through the calm of nature and Techno has his closest knife to Dream's throat in half a second.
"Get out of here," he says quietly, pushing just hard enough to begin drawing blood. "You're still not welcome."
"Yeah? Come on, Techno, we were so close when we were sharing a room."
It's the rush of memories, of their two bodies pushed oh so close together back in the prison cell, of the whispers of overwhelming heat and pain, that has Techno dropping his hand to his side and sheathing his knife.
Dream swallows, taking a bottle from his inventory and rubbing a dab of the contents across his throat. The wound disappears instantly and Dream shakes his shoulders out. "Inside?"
"You're a fucking monster," Techno says, but he says nothing more, leading Dream up the compound steps and into the warmth of the cabin inside.
The soup finishes quickly and Techno sets out both bowls. Dream eats fast, always has, and takes seconds and thirds and finds apples off the counter to eat, too. Techno doesn't complain, just appreciates the warmth of the rabbit meat and chunks of potato.
"I thought about us getting married for a while," Dream says when they've both finished. They stand across from each other in the kitchen, leaning against their respective counters. Dream's mask rests on the table.
"You can just ask for the favor, you don't have to manipulate me anymore," Techno replies because he doesn't believe Dream for a second.
"It's true, though," Dream says. His eyes have become distant. "Back before the wars. Back when we were just rivals, competing in tournaments and kicking each other's asses. I thought it would be nice, you know, having someone to settle down with."
It still tastes like a lie in the air. Techno knows it must be, because they never spoke back then outside of grunts of "fuck you" and taunts of "I win" thrown towards each other in passing. There wasn't even a hint of love in their relationship, let alone a bare-bones friendship like Techno gained with so many other competitors.
"I wanted us to have a- a whirlwind romance," Dream says. "All hot and passionate and unhealthy. You were so intense, Techno, addicting, too, with how you moved and talked and harmed, and I was entranced. There was a cabin I built, years and years ago, that I would've taken you to. It would've been nice."
"Why are you telling me this now?" Techno asks.
"Because I have nothing to hide from you anymore. You're the only man I trust, Techno, and I need to give everything to you. Allies, right? Best friends? I think I love you, or at least loved you at some point, and now you know."
"Why now, though? Is it because Quackity and Wil are married now? Or is it because you're trying to coerce me into something right now?"
"It's just time." Dream grabs his mask again, messing with the strap. "Thanks for dinner."
"This is not the type of scenario where you waltz out the door without a word of input from me," Techno counters, crossing his arms.
"What do you want me to do?" For the first time in the conversation, Dream looks up and they meet eyes.
Techno remembers the two of them as young, cocky fighters, as warriors in wars they were set to lose, as lovers for a brief moment in the same prison cell, and as they are now, two men fighting their way through the consequences of their actions.
"You love me?" Techno asks with a raised eyebrow.
Dream's shoulders are tense. "Probably."
"And you trust me and only me?"
"Yes."
"Damn." Techno clicks his tongue, looks at his hand, and tries to ignore the roaring of chat. "So what, you're gonna move in now? That's not in the best interests of anyone, even the two of us."
Some of that shoulder tension releases. "I don't know."
"Is that a morning problem, then?" Techno asks.
Dream's eyes light up. "Yes. Yes, it can be a morning problem."
Techno smiles, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Then get the hell over here."
Dream's gone in the morning when Techno wakes up. There's a note of thanks with a little heart at the bottom left on the kitchen table, as well as a small pile of gold and a single enchanted apple.
Go figure, Techno supposes.
It's part of their game, after all, saying 'I love you' and never following through.
"Until next time," Techno says, reading the note. He pockets the gold, folds the note to slip in his pocket, and continues with his routine as though Dream had never been there in the first place.