Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Since he was young, Tommy was taught and told to hate dragons. To fear them, maybe, but as an adolescent, to kill them. Dragons were dangerous, the Chief told them. They knew nothing but blood, death, and how they would fetch their next meal. It didn’t matter if it stood on four legs or two.

Tommy had always felt inside him that everyone was wrong, but he didn’t know why. Why would dragons be any different? How would they? After all, they did rampage against the village—a village did nothing to them for them to be attacked— fighting anything that moved against them.

Tommy should have more of a vendetta against them, considering they killed his parents, and Tubbo’s, and many other children’s in the village. That year, Schlatt had told him, had been a massacre. People dropping dead day after day, attacks at their highest, nowhere safe to hide. He told Tommy of how the Chief had nearly led them out of their home island, everything becoming all too much for them to handle as a single separate island. But after a while, thing calmed down, and they were left to deal with the destruction from the swarm.

Because of the dragons. But they were only acting out of natural instinct, like bears and mountain lions. Tommy barely remembered the night he was orphaned, and he certainly didn’t remember the dragons that did it.

A younger Tommy had once asked Tubbo why the dragons were bad, because no grown-up would give him a straight answer.

“It’s like this boss man; dragons kill us so we kill them back. It’s just an age-old war against species, but dragons are animals, so they don’t know what war is,” an eight-year-old had Tubbo explained, but that still didn’t give an answer to Tommy’s question.

Why were the dragons bad? What had started the war? Was it men afraid of beasts with more power than them, or did dragons simply hurt everything they saw as an act of vengeance against the world. Tommy knew what that was like.

In present time, as the sun dropped further in the sky, Tommy observed his work of art and found it not that good at all. There was only so much you could get out of a waterfall with a pencil. He looked around the area before standing up, wiping his behind of any dirt.

“Probably time to get home, before Tubbo throws another shield at my head,” he muttered to himself, “If he’s even in.”

Tommy’s day had started by asking Tubbo if he wanted to go down to the lake, but Tubbo rejected on behalf of his work at the armoury. The same went for Ranboo, but as usual all Tommy got from him was the shake of his head.

It was fine. He would have more fun by himself anyway. That’s usually how it worked these days.

He had decided after to not go to the lake exactly but a waterfall that fell into a gape of water. His notebook clutched in his hand and his cloak over his back, Tommy enjoyed the long walk to the woods. It was probably his favourite place in L’Manberg, and L’Manberg wasn’t just one small isle, it spread across acres and acres of land, mountains and forests and lakes.

A whole land to explore.

It was peaceful to sit in a spot and observe the area from an artist’s eye. A cascading waterfall, flocks of birds and a glimpse of a fox, if he was lucky. The true beauty of nature was more beautiful than anything else the world had to offer, because it was genuine, amazing and unlike everything else, not looking for something to have back in return.

Tommy was always told to be careful but he knew to be careful of dragons; he was always careful of dragons. He was never lucky enough to see one anyway, at least not by himself.

The village was attacked by them at least twice a month, but the People would lead into battle with their armour and weapons, making no affect on the dragons but convinced they had won when the reptiles eventually got bored and full.

Tommy walked briskly through the trees and hopped over a small stream. He knew his route perfectly, for he navigated it nearly every day. When reaching a large rock that told him exactly how far away from the village he was, Tommy paused and looked in the direction of the lake.

'Maybe I could take a quick look,' he pondered and let his feet make the decision for him.

The lake Tommy visited frequently was a lake the first settlers on L’Manberg had used as a base of operation. It was good, having a water source so close. But then it expanded and the lake was left lonely and untouched besides passing animal lips.

Tommy always wondered if dragons ever landed to drink from it; if they ever perched in the spots where he played. He wished so much he could draw a dragon, to perfectly capture its wings, its flames, its eyes.

But the only time he saw them was when spears rained down on their perfect scales, when net flew over their wings.

Tommy played with his thoughts while he walked and he saw the edge of the small crater of land that housed the lake. Hills rolled down to meet the ground and thick trees good enough for climbing grew around the water.

He had been playing with Tubbo when they saw the lake. The water shimmered on their eyes and the sun cast a beam into their skin, and the two boys knew this was where they would stay.

But it had been a while since Tubbo had been to their spot, even longer since it had just been Tommy and Tubbo, with the eventual arrival of a Ranboo and the constant attention, protection and concentration on himself he required (or so Tubbo said he did). Not that he deserved any of it, of particularly wanted it either. The poor fate of a boy with no home, Tommy had thought.

He didn’t hate Ranboo; he’d only ever disliked him, of course only when he first met him, and Tommy thought that was much better. But he knew what the boy had gone through and it was hard to hate a boy who had already seen so much of it, and yet not speak of any of it. So, he treated him with the kindness he had been brought up with, and treated like like he treated Tubbo. Though, maybe he was softer on Ranboo than he was Tubbo, but at least he was soft on someone. Tubbo never was.

Tommy reached the lake and pushed his way through the blocking rocks and was met with an impasse as he stared inside the crater. It was, as usual, glistening with clear water and surrounded by bushy trees.

But there; sitting at the lakeside, taking a drink, was a dragon. And a bloody big one at that.

Chapter Text

Tommy stood frozen beside at the edge of the crater for what felt like hours, watching the dragon with careful eyes. Then, he suddenly regained control of his feet and lunged behind the rock to his left. He fell to the floor, his breathing out of control and his legs shaking.

There’s a fucking dragon down there, there’s a dragon at my lake and it can probably hear me and it’s going to come up and rip my fucking head off, Tommy thought franticly and tucked his head between his feet, waiting for loud steps towards him and for his vision to go dark.

But the feeling never came, and Tommy dared a peak over his knees. No dragon. He crawled on his knees and looked around him. No dragon. He stood, clutching the rock and peaked at the lake.

There was the dragon.

It drank from the lake like it had been before, not noticing the boy behind the rock. It hadn’t sensed him at all.

Tommy’s hand drifted towards his dagger but stopped before he could get it out. This dragon had done nothing to him, it was simply nourishing itself from a long flight.

But that doesn’t mean it won’t do anything.

Instead, Tommy’s hand drifted to his notebook and his pencil and laid them on the ground, along with himself. This was an opportunity to sketch a dragon.

The species was unknown to him, but he hadn’t seen one like it before, at least not at the dragon attacks. It was a tall, bulkily built, bipedal and seemingly digitigrade dragon with armoured plates on its back that resembled one of an armadillo's. It had two large ear-like appendages on its head and a pointed nose. Its claws were that of pincers and it held them like arms. Its colour was a scarlet red with white markings over its body. But one of the most interesting things about the dragon was its tail, or tails. It had three long tails waving around the air (one red, two white) that reminded Tommy of a scorpion that had once been trailing through the forest. They all had a large stinger at the end and probably looked even deadlier up close than they did from Tommy’s far away perspective. But for Tommy, it was the eyes of the dragon that held his interest.

Eyes, that weren’t bloodthirsty and red but calm and clear purple. Eyes, that weren’t dumb and deadly but eyes that held intelligence and a reason to fight if attacked. Eyes that made Tommy feel lied to.

A snap in the distance was all that was needed for the dragon to become alert and turn on its claws, taking off into the trees and leaving without giving Tommy one last observation.

He watched the dragon fly away with agility and growled. His sketch looked accurate enough, but he hadn’t been able to capture the feeling of it, the emotions, especially in the eyes.

“Stupid fucking snap,” Tommy grumbled and shoved his notebook into his pocket angrily. But that anger subsided when he realised that he had seen a dragon. And a rare one too it seemed, for no one had ever spoke of one like it. Tommy had heard the names for dragons that usually came by the village, unpleasantly described by villagers; Monstrous Nightmares, Deadly Nadders, Hideous Zipplebacks, Terrible Terrors. Neither of them had very pleasing names, and neither of them were too polite either. Tommy had never seen one like that before.

Tommy walked home with a simple smile on his face, occasionally looking to the sky for the rest of his walk.

I saw a dragon, and it wasn’t a stupid, evil animal like I’d been forced to believe.

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When Tommy got home, the first thing he saw was a pot flying towards his head. Quite a sight.

It whacked across his skull and Tommy trailed back, clutching his head.

“Oww, what the fuck?” he shouted and saw Tubbo coming into view. Ranboo sat quietly on a stool.

“Where the shit have you been?” Tubbo cried, “I’ve been worried sick! You should’ve been back ages ago; don’t you know about dragons?! Or muggers?! Or simple twats who will try to hurt you for fun?!”

The small brunette boy looked up at Tommy angrily, but only anger spawned from worry. He picked up the pot and held it tight in his hands.

“I was just in the woods, you knew that, or you should since I asked you to come!” Tommy spat, clutching at his head. He would have to remember to duck next time he entered the door after ‘Tubbo’s Curfew’.

“Yeah, but woods are exactly where what lurk? Where what prowl? Does anyone know? Hmm!” Tubbo shouted, cupping his hand around his ear and flying around the room madly like a spinning bull. Ranboo, who had been watching the amusing sight, nodded and moved his hands like wings but Tubbo was already at Tommy.

“DRAGONS! They lurk in forests, they prowl after People, and they don’t care what you are!” Tubbo yelled and Tommy could only give a blank stare. That wasn’t true at all, but he wasn’t about to voice his views to an angry Tubbo. He looked to his feet, ready to play it guilty rather than arrogant.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy mumbled and Tubbo sighed, knocking him with his elbow.

“Just don’t scare me. We’ve had enough casualties in this village, and dragons are just a tipping scale,” he said and walked towards the table. Ranboo watched with a small smile, too small to be seen by two boys with rambling thoughts.

Tommy made his way up the rickety stairs to put away his notebook; far away from the prying eyes of anyone else.

“There’s chicken on the table!” Tubbo called as Tommy ripped out the page of his notebook and hid it under his bed.

He made his way down the stairs and sat down at the table for three, eating everything that was on his plate. There wasn’t much talk, but there would be when Tubbo softened up after eating.

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The tale of how Tommy and Tubbo got their own house was a long one, one just as long as they had been born.

With an entire dozen of children orphaned, people didn’t know what to do. Did they help or did they look away? Even the Chief himself hadn’t known what to do (‘Or cared at all,’ Tommy heard Schlatt say once).

But one woman named Puffy knew what to do, and she was the only one with the strength to do it. She stood outside her house, looking at it carefully, and got to work. She built around it, in it and on top of it to change it into the perfect home for herself and a dozen children. In less than a few weeks, it was ready. Puffy went to the Chief, told him of her plan and it was accepted (‘He was probably happy to get the little runts off and out of his hands,’)

But Puffy realised that she still didn’t have enough room for all of the infants. She still had herself and her own son, Foolish, to look out for and live in the house. So twelve children turned to ten.

With a heavy heart, Puffy picked two small infants at random and carried them out of the house, the last time they would ever stay in it. Bundled in her arms, the two babies didn’t know what happened around them.

How Puffy went from door to door, knocking and asking for strangers to take in one of them. How they wrinkled their noses and stated ‘We/I just don’t have the room for a child, especially now,’. How people didn’t want another mouth to feed, another body to watch and another person to bring the dragons to their door.

In the end, Puffy had knocked on one last door before breaking, and this time she wouldn’t back down. The house attached to the armoury had only one resident, one no one was truly excited about. To them, Schlatt was only there to provide weapons. To him, they were customers he didn’t need to waste time with.

Truthfully, Schlatt was a very secluded man, one who had never let his emotions shine through his work. He worked hard, especially when the armoury was given to him, because in his mind it was something that had to be earned. He put every morsel of dedication into what he created and it was something he wanted people to credit, which is why he didn’t say anything good about it. He could’ve been a leader, once, in what he only felt was a past life. But he hadn’t ever been that good with people.

So when Puffy banged on his door in the rain with two babies clutched in her arm, he didn’t know what to expect.

“Can I help you, Puffy?” he asked calmly and politely. She did not look well, more tired than usually did and a cramp in her back.

“Schlatt…normally I would ask politely but I’m tired and I’m not asking,” Puffy answered, staring into Schlatt’s eyes and he understood her meaning. She looked down at the two boys and one of her curls danced in front of her eyes.

“I’ve been to every house in the damned village, and none of them have bothered to be kind or considerate, so you are all that is left. These two children were orphaned in the attack, along with ten others. I took all of them under my care, but no matter what I do my actions or my house isn’t big enough for all of them. So I am begging you to take them in,” she pleaded.

Schlatt’s hand tightened around the doorframe. Puffy was a strong woman and capable at a lot of things, and he had never seen her beg before. His eyes fell to the ground before sighing.

“What're their names?” he asked and hope sparked in Puffy’s eyes.

“You mean—”

“I can’t have two innocent kids drownin’ in a ditch because no one else in this village has a heart,” Schlatt admitted, “But I won’t just care for ‘em. They’ll have to work, at least at the right age.”

Puffy slid one child into Schlatt’s arms, “That is Tubbo. And this…” she made sure the babe was secure in Schlatt’s arms before speaking “…is Tommy.”

She took one last look at the boys before returning to Schlatt’s eyes.

“Thank you. Take care of them. At least to what is necessary,” Puffy said and turned as the last raindrop fell.

Schlatt looked at the boys and sighed. He was no parent, and definitely not two. He kept the care in his heart stored away for special occasions, and they did not come lightly. He shut the door and laid the boys down on the table and sighed.

“What am I going to do with these two fucks?” he asked himself, and then the blonde child started crying.

The rest of Tommy’s childhood was spent with Tubbo, always together and Schlatt wasn’t as bad of a carer as he thought. He didn’t expect to get attached to the boys, but they were remarkable children.

When the boys were twelve, he taught them how to make weapons. Tubbo had a keen hand for it, whilst Tommy made a mess, making simple shapes than swords and daggers. He supposed not everything was as lucky.

It was when they were fourteen that they applied for their own house. And Schlatt couldn’t refuse it when the boys were so happy to take care of themselves. Tommy told him he didn’t want to be a bother any longer, which didn’t make sense at first until he considered how much time was spent with Tubbo when Tommy wandered the woods on his own.

So they did get a house, and Tubbo still worked at the armoury. It was only a year later that they met Ranboo, but that was a tale for another day, perhaps.

A day when one could stomach such a tale.

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Tommy went to bed on a full stomach and a happy note with Tubbo, as the boy didn’t hold grudges over small things for long. Before he blew out his candle, he took one last look at the drawing of the dragon. He smiled over how he had drawn the wings, the face, the eyes. They gleamed with surprise just as they had done when Tommy had seen the dragon.

Tomorrow, he thought with a smile, I’ll go back and see if it’s there. And if it isn’t, then I’ll keep my secret to myself.

Chapter Text

When Tommy went out the next day, he took with him his sketch, pencil, and a little bit of hope. He promised Tubbo he wouldn’t be late and said goodbye with just a few loving profanities. He felt Schlatt’s eyes on him as he walked, but he only spoke back with the wave of his hand.

Tommy was excited to go back to the lake, but he thought he might be a bit too excited. What if they dragon was gone? What if it was there and he was ripped apart? Those tails hadn’t looked too convincing of the dragon’s tranquillity.

He pushed his blonde bushy hair out of his eyes. Even if it wasn’t there, he could still enjoy himself at the lake.

Tommy made it to the lake crater and stood behind the giant rocks that he crouched at the day before, his heart racing. Then, he peeked over the rock and a smile drew itself on his face.

The dragon was back.

This time it was sniffing the ground of the crater, as if it was looking for something.

Looking for me, the anxiety in Tommy whispered but he shook it off and pulled out his paper to finish the sketch. The dragon looked even more splendid than it did yesterday with the sun shining down on its scales. When Tommy had perfected his sketch, he gave it a nod of approval and saw the sun had moved a lot since he had last checked.

The dragon was still looking at the ground and its intelligent eyes darted around impatiently.

Tommy stood up, ready to watch the dragon’s every movement when his body decided to be a prick and make him trip forwards.

Down the hill.
Into the crater.
Towards the dragon.

He landed on his face and groaned with pain and he pushed himself up. And then he heard the two noises he had dreaded to hear yesterday. Crashing steps and an ear-splitting roar.

The dragon bounded towards him and screamed in his ears. Tommy dropped himself on the floor, unable and unwilling to move. The dragon sniffed around him and growled.

Tommy had never felt so scared in his life.

Suddenly, he felt himself being pulled above the ground.

Oh Thor it’s going to eat me, it’s going to kill me because all I wanted was my stupid sketch. What a twat you are Tommy.

Like a courageous fool, he dared to open one eye and saw the dragon had raised him with its tail. It was sniffing him, observing him like Tommy had done to the dragon, only not this close up.

Seeing which parts it can have to eat first.

That’s when Tommy saw its eyes and saw the same thing he had the day before. Intelligence and no desire to kill.

And then the dragon sneezed. Tommy felt himself being dropped to the ground in surprise. He looked up and saw the dragon looking at him curiously. He pressed his hand on the ground and pushed himself up, slowly.

It seemed like a hundred years until he was finally standing, and facing the dragon eye to eye.

Well, not eye to eye. It's eyes were a few feet above Tommy's head.

Tommy felt bare as the dragon flicked its tail backwards and forwards like a mesmerising image. His hand went towards the dagger in his belt and tried to twist it into his hand. The dragon started to growl loudly and its eyes narrowed angrily. Tommy stooped and looked up at the dragon. It had stopped growling when he had taken his hand away.

Is it…afraid of my dagger?

Suddenly, that same loud snap occurred in the distance and the dragon yet again turned on its claws and took off from the ground.

Tommy didn’t know what he was doing until he found himself running after it.

“Wait!” he shouted, “Come back!”

But it was no use. The dragon was gone out of sight and Tommy was left standing alone in the clearing.

He stood, shocked at most, from what had happened in the last ten minutes. He had encountered a dragon and lived. It had picked him up with its tails of stingers and he had lived. But what had driven it away?

He grabbed his dagger out of his belt and looked at it, his fists clenching around it. The dragon was angered when he had gone for it. Did it know of its purpose? To kill and hurt its brethren? Tommy had the slightest intention to throw it away, but he told himself not to. It had been a gift from Schlatt on his thirteenth birthday. A way to keep himself safe from everything that was out to try and kill him. Little did he know he much that was.

Tommy took one last look at the sky before leaving the crater.

“It’ll be back,” he mumbled, “And I’ll be here waiting for it. I will see that dragon again.”

And he wasn’t about to break that promise, one he had made to himself and to the unknowing dragon.

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Every day for the next few weeks, Tommy would go down to the lake with his notepad and pencil in hand. He never took his dagger.

As if fate was on his side, the dragon was always there. He didn’t know if it knew he was there, but it would always entertain him. And he always had something to draw.

Yes, Tommy saw the looks he was given by the people as he left, from Tubbo, Ranboo, Schlatt. They didn’t know or doubted where he was going every day, rushing off with a smile for hours at a time, notebook in hand. But the more he went out, the more people looked at him funny.

One day, Tommy was walking back from the lake and passed by a stone wall that blocked a path to the Chief’s house.

“Hey!” a voice shouted and Tommy turned. A boy—not even a boy, probably in his early to mid-twenties—was sitting on the wall, an instrument in his arms. Tommy had seen a few musical instruments at events in the Great Hall, but he couldn’t name them if they stood in front of him.

The boy had brown, fluffy curly hair that fell over his forehead and glasses perched on his nose. His eyes were a dark brown, as dark as the trees Tommy passed on his walks. He always noticed eyes before anything else because they always told the truth. The boy wore a brown coat with a black cloak and looked at Tommy with mild interest.

“What do you want?” Tommy asked with irritation.

“Where do you keep going every day?” the boy asked bluntly, and Tommy frowned at him, "Everyone notices you rushing off, same time, all the time."

“That’s not really any of your business is it, prick,” Tommy snapped and couldn’t tell if he saw the boy smile.

“It is my business when you constantly pass by my house. What are you doing, planting fire bombs?”

“Yeah, loads of them. You’ll feel a big fucking bang when you’re sleeping before you hear it,” Tommy said with a dry smirk and the boy tilted his head, his hands strumming over his instrument. Tommy saw a smile under his load of curly hair, “If that’s your house, I’m guessing you’re the Chief’s son.”

“One of them,” the boy said, “Name’s Wilbur.”

“Tommy,” he said, and didn’t know why he was still talking to the boy, “As much as I’d love to continue this conversation, I have things to do.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Wilbur said.

“Then I guess you’ll either have to figure it out for yourself or not get so interested in what I do in my spare time,” Tommy proclaimed and walked away with no looks back.

On a few occasions, Wilbur sat on the wall and watched Tommy as he went, but asked no more questions.

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Once, Tommy concealed a fish under his cloak and found it hard to walk with it wriggling against his arm. He placed it in the crater and once he had left, the dragon appeared, perfectly on time like always.

Too on time, Tommy thought, Is the dragon waiting for me as I do it?

For it was strange how it turned up everyday like he did, spending all day walking around the lake instead of flying and hunting, an endless pattern for as long as it could. It would always sniff the ground and look up at the rocks Tommy stood behind, as if it was telling him it knew he was there. But eventually, that same snap in the distance always drove it away, though Tommy had no idea why.

Tommy wondered if it was something to do with the dragon smelling him when they had first interacted, but the thought slipped away from his mind with the dragon slashed one of its many tails into the lake and caught a fish, already dead when it was brought from the water.

He enjoyed his visits to the lake even more, and though he did not interact with the dragon, it was nice to observe the beast from a far away angle and see how it really was.

But it seemed Tommy’s luck would run out eventually. After two weeks of careful observation, Tommy went to the lake and the dragon was not there. He waited all day, but it did not turn up. Neither the next day, nor the next. He assumed that it had found somewhere else to live, and it wouldn’t keep flying out to a deserted lake to entertain a human child for nothing.

Tommy stopped going to the lake after that.

Chapter Text

Since Tommy didn’t go to the lake on his days, he spent time helping at the armoury. He worked at the window, selling the weapons instead of making them. It helped Schlatt, who was still working with his bad leg, not having him run around the shop.

It was nice to be around Tubbo and Ranboo. Even if they worked, they could still make jokes and laugh at Tommy. It was nice to spend time with them, like he used to. It also stopped the amount of looks he got. Not that he cared. He was too much of a ‘Big-Man’ to care about what people thought of him.

On another day, Tommy caught part of a conversation exchanged by Schlatt to Tubbo.

“...don’t know how to deliver them. You need to make the weapons, my leg ain’t workin’ so well, and Ranboo—”

“I can go; it’d only take a few hours of my shift,” Tubbo said.

“But Sam is a strange guy—and he ordered tons of weapons…”

Tommy paused at his work. He had heard of Sam, of course he had. The man was sometimes brought up randomly in the village as a topic of gossip, for no one truly knew the man. From what Tommy knew, he was a man who had quite the legacy to leave behind; the original owner of the armoury before Schlatt, and had a good reputation in the village. Then one day, he changed and left everything behind that he had had in his previous life and left, moving to the other side of the island, entirely left alone by anyone else. Tommy had heard what the people said when he and Tubbo once sat in the village square.

“—abandoned everyone and everything he knew—”

“—turned savage, lives with dragons—”

“—met someone on a different island, the only one he talks to—”

Sam wasn’t a man that Tommy thought about frequently. Like every man he had his rumours, but he stayed far out of the village and away from its people.

And from what Tommy had heard, he knew a lot about dragons.

“I can go!” Tommy exclaimed and the two turned to him in surprise.

“What?”

“I can take care of the delivery. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” Tommy said and Schlatt narrowed his eyes.

“Are you sure? It’s quite out of the way, and could take hours on foot.”

“I know where I’m going,” Tommy said sharply, not liking how he was being babied, “I’ll take Juorse and put the weapons in the cart. I’ll be fine.”

Schlatt stood for a moment, considering his proposition before nodding his head, “I’ll set the horse to the cart.”

The weapon-smith walked to the back of the hut and Tommy was left alone with Tubbo. The brunette tilted his head at Tommy, but he had no words for him, so they stood in a silence.

“Are you alright going to the other end of the island?” Tubbo asked and Tommy felt his patience starting to wear thin.

“Of course I am. I spend every day in those woods, I think I can handle myself for a few hours,” he said and Tubbo frowned.

“Yeah, but Sam is…different. His views on some things, I’ve heard, are questionable.”

“He’s just a man.”

Tubbo started to tap his foot, a sign that he wanted to say something, Tommy knew.

“It’s just…”

“Spit it out, Tubbo.”

“I worry, all the time. You spend so much time by yourself, especially in those woods. You don’t know what could happen.”

“Maybe I only spend so much time by myself is because nobody wants to fucking bother with me, nobody wants to take one small break to be my friend,” Tommy snapped and Tubbo took a step back. Then he frowned.

“You don't understand,” Tubbo whispered, his fists clenched, and walked away.

Tommy let out a sigh of anger and kicked his foot against the stone floor. Ranboo sat on a log chair, watching silently, and Tommy was pissed off by his silence. He always stood and watched, thoughts only expressed in his mind, green and red eyes that could not speak. Just like his mouth.

Tommy walked away to his house and let out a roar of irritation, knowing he could not blame Ranboo for his silence, but Tubbo for his ignorance.

His ignorance? Maybe that wasn’t the right word. His irritating questioning. The fact that he was just another pair of eyes judging him for finding joy in the difference of nature. And willing to take things into a different perspective.

Tommy had been babied for most of his life; when he was an infant and when he wasn’t. He knew that Schlatt did and would have a preference over Tubbo; he was quiet when Tommy was loud, he was obedient when Tommy was disobedient, he had the hands for the craft while Tommy could only make the art that he saw inside his head, and they weren’t sharp and dangerous.

He had always had to put up with being the odd one out. There were three of them after all, and three made a crowd. Or a religion.

Even though the two boys were closer than brothers, they still argued, still fought, but they still loved each other. Nevertheless when they found Ranboo, they were still split unequally but still had that bond.

But Tommy, because he could not work like the others, was often looked down on like a puppy trying to climb a chair when he attempted to do something that they didn’t expect. He didn’t despise them for it, Tommy wasn’t one for hate unless it was necessary. And they were his friends; they were as loyal to him as he was to them.

Tommy went into his house and took his sketch of the dragon he had seen not long ago in his pocket. If Sam knew about dragons, then he might know about the one Tommy saw.

It was a hunch, and it held hope. Tommy had always been one for knowing more.

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When Tommy made it outside once more, Schlatt stood holding the reigns of a splendid horse.

It was a tall umber stallion with a combed mane and serious eyes. It was attached to a worn-down wooden cart that still held up despite being full of at least two dozen heavy iron weapons.

Schlatt’s eyes cast a look of doubt over Tommy, but it went quickly when a gaze was held to his eyes. He patted the blonde on his shoulders.

“I don’t mean to pry, but are you sure you’re all right to deliver? I don’t question your competence, but it is a distance,” Schlatt added when he saw Tommy’s face.

“I’m sure I can manage. Besides, it would be nice to meet Sam.”

“I hope you don’t mean from the rumours of him,” Schlatt sighed, “People in this village get shit on far to easily. In all truthfulness, Sam is a good man. He did give me the armoury after all. Give him my regards.”

Tommy nodded and jumped up over the horse, a leg reaching each side. Schlatt passed him the reigns.

“With any luck, I’ll be back for tea,” Tommy said and kicked his leg to the horse’s side. It moved with pace and Schlatt was left waving the boy off. Tommy smiled to himself.

*That was a pretty sick last sentence,* he thought to himself, *or could’ve it been better?*

Tommy was wrong. He didn't get back until later that night.

Chapter Text

The journey to Sam’s house has taken as long as it needed and yet longer than it needed to be.

Tommy was patient for the first half of the ride, but began to get bored not long after. There was only so fast Juorse could go, so they were dropped down to trotting pace when his hooves could no longer sprint.

The journey took a little more than three hours, and Tommy was ready to abandon horseback immediately.

He first caught sight of the cottage after taking a sharp bend. It was a humble stone cottage that grew vines down the windows and was embedded into the side of a mountainous cave. Masses of edible plants sprouted in front and behind the house, a worn-down pine door wore a wreath. Some bricks were brittle and discoloured, and the setting made it something out of a child’s playset. Tommy’s eyes goggled at the setting, taking in a beauty he had ever only seen in natural surroundings. It almost seemed too perfect.

Tommy pulled at the reigns of his stallion and the horse was pulled to a stop. This was the place. This was the dwelling of the man who knew dragons. Tommy led Juorse forward until they were at least five feet away from the door.

Pulling one leg over his stead, Tommy slid off of the back of Juorse and felt the satisfying thump of his feet against the grassy floor. He pulled the reigns and stopped the horse by the door.

Taking a deep breath, and one last look over his shoulder, Tommy knocked against the old pine door. Quickly, they was a clatter of metal against another and a thud of something being dropped. Tommy heard louds steps to the door, and then it was opening and a head peered out.

The man had somewhat basil green hair and green tinted glasses with a mustard rim. His bottom face was hidden by a mask (one Tommy sometimes saw Tubbo wear when dealing with dangerous substances in the armoury) and he pulled it to his forehead. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Um, hi? How can I…help?” he asked.

“Uhh, I’m Tommy, Sir. Schlatt send me to deliver your order,” Tommy explained and gestured to the wagon behind him. Sam seemed relieved and his face crafted a smile.

“Why, of course; I admit that I forgot all about it. Let me help you out, Tommy, was it?” he asked and opened the door wide enough for him to get out but too closed for Tommy to see into the house.

Sam wore a dusty brown apron and a green n white striped shirt with coal smeks, fancier than something Tommy has ever seen worn. His legs were wrapped in brown trousers and his feet in leather boots. He was taller than Tommy was. In his hand he held a sheet of sandpaper and he quickly threw it inside the house, wiping his hands together. “Yes, I believe I’ve heard your name; Schlatt spoke fondly of you whenever he delivered to me by hand,” he looked the boy up and down and nodded. Tommy noticed he walked with a slight limp on his left leg, “I didn’t know he had dismissed you to delivery boy.”

Tommy’s ears went red and the sound of disrespect, to him and Schlatt.

“I’m simply helping him out. Can a man not do a selfless deed?”

“Most men do not, and I suspect you are not either,” Sam said and placed a hand on Juorse. He had scars all over his hand.

Tommy frowned and began to lift the weapons out of the wagon. Sam scooped lots up into his arms and walked back to his house with three quarters of the load. Tommy blinked in surprise. Sam was clearly very strong.

They finished unpacking the weapons and a few boxes were placed outside the door of Sam’s house. He clearly did not want anyone in.

“Well, that seems done, unless…there’s anything else you need?” Sam asked, his face already a smug one. Tommy clenched his fists and looked up at the looming figure.

Just one question. Just one answer.

“I..I..iwantyoutotellmeaboutdragons,” Tommy squeaked and Sam blinked in surprise.

“I’m sorry?”

“I..I want you to tell me about dragons,” Tommy said.

Sam eyes widened and his grip on the dagger he was holding tightened. He looked slightly shocked.

“W…What do you want me to tell you?” Sam asked quietly. Tommy stuttered.

“I, just said—”

“You want me to tell you about how they kill? How they maim? How they’re nothing but heartless beasts that kill for fun and slaughter the innocent!” Sam shouted and Tommy stumbled back. His eyes fell to the dagger in his hand.

“N…No. I want to know the truth. That they’re nothing like that, that they’re amazing creatures and everyone else was wrong. I want to know about them. Their species, their facts, their mysteries. I want to know until my ears start bleeding and my brain gets full. Because…because someone deserves to know the truth.”

Sam took in everything he said and studied the boy, wondering why someone like him wanted to learn things from someone like Sam. Especially things that would go against everything his village stood for. Sam paused and then smiled at Tommy, picking up the crates and opening the door.

“Come in.”

The first thing Tommy saw when he entered was dragons. Tons of sketches hung about the wall, lists and entries and well-drawn pictures. Maps were thrown across tables and tools lay abandoned on a table. The tables, they appeared more than the paper. Helmets were strung up on the wall, along with cloaks and gloves and masks.

He slowly spun around the look around the room, his heart beating with excitement and his lips turning upwards.

Tommy looked to Sam, who was storing something that had been on the main table away from Tommy’s eyes. He placed the weapons in the corner of the room. Tommy looked to a desk and his eyes lit up.

“No way,” he muttered and walked towards it.

Scattered across the wooden desk, almost discarded, were dragon scales.

They shone a deep emerald, as green as the heart of a forest. When Tommy lifted one up, they shimmered beautifully in the sun. He couldn't believe he was actually holding a dragon scale.

“How did you get this?” Tommy asked and Sam only smiled.

“I found it on another island. Found a whole bunch of them, actually. Extremely beautiful, indeed.”

“Did you see their owner?” Tommy asked and Sam paused.

“No, it was long gone by then. Dragons shed scales a few times a year, so it was extremely lucky,” Sam said and smiled again and Tommy observed the scale like buried treasure, “You can keep it if you like.”

Tommy’s mouth hung open and shook his head.

“No, I couldn’t possibly take it.”

“It’s quite alright, I have plenty.”

Tommy thought for a moment before shaking his head again.

“It’s alright, someone might find it and fuck me over, wondering why I have one and where I got it from.”

He put the scale back in its original spot and made his way over to Sam slowly.

“You know, I’ve never seen a boy as young as you care for dragons so. Quite frankly, I’ve never seen people care for dragons before. Only one other person,” Sam said and smiled at memories and thoughts only he could envision.

“I-I just think they’re misunderstood. You know, bears and lions don’t get this much shit as dragons do. I mean, they have poison and fire and claws, but they’re only acting on natural instinct,” Tommy muttered, kicking his foot against the ground. Sam nodded and cusp his chin in his hands.

“You know, I once spoke like that to the people of your village. I held the same beliefs, the same thoughts. But I made different choices. I spoke my speech to the people and what did they do? They mocked me, belittled me, called me mad. I could do nothing but live by my own standards, for they ripped away my connections. The Chief, of course, did not like how I spoke. I was nearly cast out from the island, so I left, far away from any misguided people. The people I trusted most, I gave my wishes, but I abandoned everyone else, like they abandoned me,” Sam spoke with a voice that could calm the strongest riptides, and Tommy could only listen, “I beg, what do they call me in the village? Mad? Lonesome? Consumed by his own foolish ideals? Man cannot change their selfish ways, because they see no path for a brighter future to adapt to. No one in that place could stand to hear what I had to say, like I could not stand to stay in their company.”

Sam paused and brandished his hand around his house.

“The only place I could share my thoughts was and still is my house. A man’s freedom lies in the walls of his house, they say. Though, there was only one person I could confide in, but that was too long ago…”

A thundering boom smacked against the back of the house from the cave, knocking Tommy over, his hands keeping him sitting instead of lying flat. It clashed once again and his eyes widened in fear.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Stay calm; I’ll be back once I’ve sorted it out,” Sam said sourly and walked out of the house. Tommy pushed himself up and walked towards the back, but there were no windows to the cave. Tommy looked around the house as the banging subsided.

Something on the main table caught his eye.

Sitting closed on the table, was a large, thick book. On the front it bore the small image of a curled-up dragon and pieces of paper stuck out of the top in various pages. Tommy’s hand brushed the cover and he let out a sound as his picked up the book and moved it closer to it. It weighed as much as a steel iron ball. Tommy opened the cover. The first page was blank, so he turned it over again. The page read—BOULDER CLASS.

Tommy turned over again and saw the large sketch of a dragon that looked like four balls stuck together with large wart like spots over its scales. The title read GRONCKLE. He read a few of the words before turning a page, and he kept turning until he saw so many different dragons of colour, species and size. So many he had never knew existed, so much knowledge that had been kept from him.

Tommy’s grip on the book grew tighter and the door suddenly slammed. Tommy’s head moved so quick he got whiplash and his hand flew to his neck, the book closing to a tight shut.

Sam walked through the door, wiping his hands and huffing. His eyes locked on Tommy and recognition appeared on his face, like he only just realised he was still there.

“What is this?” Tommy asked, pointing to the book.

Sam walked over and glazed his hand over the book.

“This?” he asked and his smile reappeared on his face, “This is the Book of Dragons.”

That sentence, that one simple sentence, that one name of the book, held so much wisdom of something Tommy knew nothing of. It spoke in tongues he could not speak and pitches he could not hear.

“The Book of Dragons?” Tommy repeated.

“Indeed.”

“W…Where did it come from?”

“I wrote it.”

Tommy turned to Sam, his mouth agape. “You wrote it?!”

“Yes. It took me many years and many islands, maybe more to come, but I did it eventually.”

“So, it holds information of every dragon in existence?”

“Everyone that has been recorded to exist, yes,” Sam sat down at his table and beckoned for Tommy to do the same.

“It was quite the journey, for me and my partner, but it was amazing. All those dragons, all those experiences, adventures. I did end up with some…souvenirs,” Sam said, pointing to the scars that ran down his hands, “But one cannot blame a dragon for something like that; it’s only in their nature to attack someone they deem a threat.”

Tommy suddenly remembered the sketch in his pocket and pulled it out, passing it to Sam in shaking hands.

“Did you ever see a dragon like this?” Tommy asked and Sam looked puzzled. He studied the sketch and the opened the thick book to a certain page, studying it carefully before nodding his head.

“I sure have. This is a marvellous sketch, by the way—”

“I saw one,” Tommy burst out, unable to contain it any longer, “I saw a dragon just like that at the lake and…and I went up to it and it grabbed me with its tail but it didn’t kill me and it hasn’t come back!” Tommy didn’t notice his leg was jumping up and down until he looked down at his feet, “That’s why I came. Because it wasn’t like the village said. Because it spared my life and I could study it. Because I found a dragon that was special.”

They sat in silence before Sam passed the sketch back to Tommy, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“The dragon was a Triple Stryke.”

Chapter Text

The next few days, Tommy fell into a pattern, a repeating cycle but one that never seemed to bore him.

There was so much more he had yet to learn from Sam, so he travelled to see him every day. The journeys were long, and Juorse could only go so fast, but as they continued, they seemed to get shorter.

His trips worried Tubbo even more.

Tubbo did not know why Tommy wanted to see the strange man every day, but he didn’t want to ask him either. He knew the blonde would only get annoyed at Tubbos pestering. Tommy’s recent outings meant he was home even later, but he came home happier than he had been when he was at the lake, Tubbo noticed.

In Tommy’s eyes, he was having the time of his life.

He was constantly learning new things about subjects he had been guided away from, and probably would’ve been all of his life. Which dragons were part of which class, how to distinguish age from patterns, how to approach a dragon while still keeping your hand. He even learnt (and still remembered) different species of dragons, ones he never knew even existed.

True, there was still things Sam was shielding from Tommy, but he figured that he would tell him, one day. When Sam realised Tommy was ready to hear it.

That last conversation Tommy had had with Sam on the day he met with stuck with Tommy always. *The dragon you saw was a Triple Stryke.*

It was satisfying for Tommy to have a solid, confirmative answer for the animal that plagued his thoughts and dreams, which flapped about when he was trying to sleep. And Sam had given it to him.

------------------------------------------

Another person became part of Tommy’s schedule too.

One of the days he was coming home from Sam’s, Wilbur had been sitting on the same brick wall he had previously, holding his instrument in his hands and playing. He played the most beautiful melodies. He always watched Tommy as he arrived, but never said anything to him. Tommy always had the urge to ask him about the instrument he played, but held back at the last moment

Tommy passed by Wilbur on Juorse, and then he turned the reigns to face him. Wilbur, his curly hair covering his eyes, looked up at Tommy, who was higher than him at the moment. They sat in silence before Tommy spoke up.

“What’s that you keep playing?” Tommy asked. Wilbur narrowed his eyes in scrutiny.

“It’s a guitar,” he answered and then screwed up his face, puzzled, “Do you not know what a guitar is?”

“I know what it is, dickhead, I just didn’t know the name of it.”

“That means you don’t know what it is.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I’m pretty certain it does,” Wilbur replied, a smile on his lips. Tommy scowled at the musician on the wall.

“How do you play it, then?” he inquired.

“You pluck your fingers across the strings, and a sound comes out of it. Like this,” Wilbur said and glided his hands over the strings. A noise came out, quiet but audible. Tommy sprang from his horse and moved over to Wilbur, who now sat taller than him. Tommy shifted on his heels nervously.

“Could...could you teach me to play it?” Tommy asked.

“You…want to learn to play? You sure?”

“Don’t look so surprised. I can actually do things, contrary to popular belief, and be able to take time to learn something,” Tommy snapped, “It’s just that no one ever gave the time to teach me anything. Besides—I’d like a new skill, other than riding a horse for hours at a time.”

Wilbur paused for a moment, and then shifted over on the wall and patted the spot next to him gently with his hand. Tommy moved over, wrapping the reigns of his horse around his arm and climbed up to the wall like a gremlin, grunting and his hands clamping over anything he could grab.

Wilbur chuckled and pulled him up, even though it wasn’t a high wall. When Tommy was upright, Wilbur passed the guitar to him. Tommy froze, trying not to move so he couldn’t drop the instrument.

“It’s alright; it isn’t fragile,” Wilbur clarified and Tommy untensed, moving the instrument around in his hands, trying to get the same position in which Wilbur had with it

“So, what do I do with it,” Tommy asked. The rest of the evening, Wilbur spent time teaching Tommy to play. He took it slow, and was patient when Tommy messed up. Tommy enjoyed every second of it.

--------------------------------------------

So between seeing Sam and learning guitar from Wilbur, Tommy barely had any free time, so he didn’t even see Tubbo or Ranboo anymore. But they spent all their time in the armoury anyway.

“What made you want to leave? Like, did nothing make you contemplate it? No family or friends?” Tommy asked Sam this a couple weeks after their first meeting. Sam had been telling Tommy about one of the first attacks he had every seen, how it changed his views. Sam sat silently before facing Tommy again, his face solemn.

“Tommy, did you ever hear about The Blade?”

Tommy froze where he sat, his skin shivering and legs starting to shake. That name brought panic to his body.

Tommy had been nine years old when he first saw him, but he hadn’t seen him as a man.

Everyone in the village took to the streets, welcoming back their hero. Tommy pushed through crowds of people with Tubbo to see him; he had been gone for three years. When Tommy got to the front, he only saw the bottom of a horse. Tommy had looked up at the stallion, power and might in its eyes. He had only been as tall as the horse’s knee.

Tommy looked up at the man who rode it, and his heart had dropped to his stomach. The man looked like no man Tommy had ever seen.

He wore a long cloak made of scales and long, braided pink hair trailed down his back like a tail. His face was masked by a dragon’s skull, all skin and eyes burrowed out. Tommy could only see the eyes of The Blade, piercing, irate, judging.

The Blade had stared down at Tommy as his horse moved onwards, and Tommy could not tear his away. Maybe it was that day that he learnt to judge people from their eyes. Tommy brushed the memory away and shivered.

“Yes, I know The Blade," Tommy said calmly, "He’s the hero of the island.”

“He’s the hero to the people of the island,” Sam corrected, “But everyone is just afraid of him. He could slice a dragon open with one clean sweep, and a person wouldn’t be able to blink before he did it to them.”

“What about The Blade made you leave?”

“Well, he hunts and hates dragons. I protect and love dragons. It’s kind of a hate-hate relationship,” Sam said simply and Tommy frowned, “He’s also the son of the Chief, and I don’t follow his ideals either.”

Tommy stopped and snapped his head upwards to look at Sam.

“The Blade…is Wilbur’s brother?”

“His twin, actually. You know Wilbur?”

“He…teaches me guitar,” Tommy mumbled and looked at his feet again.

“There is nothing bad about Wilbur like there is his relatives,” Sam said assuringly, “If anything, he’s a good kid. Phil spent all his time either mourning his wife or making sure his other son became a ‘hero’. None of those boys ever got a true childhood."

Tommy looked up. He had never heard anyone speak of the Chief with his first name, nor speak of him with such brash words. Now that he thought about it, he only ever saw the Chief at special dinners in the Great Hall.

A sudden crash sounded against the back of the cave behind the cottage. Tommy saw Sam tense and Tommy knew it was time for him to leave.

---------------------------------------------

When Tommy met Wilbur that day, he had a different mindset about it. Even with what Sam had said, he didn’t know if he should keep seeing him. True, Tommy was able to be more of himself with Wilbur, and true, the boy was funny and always laughed at what Tommy said. But something sat silently in his gut.

When he did see him, though, Wilbur had company. A girl only a few years older than Tommy was stood by the wall, smiling at something Wilbur said. She was less than six feet in height and had short hair that was brown apart from a few blonde streaks by her face. She wore a pale white shirt, black trousers and a long brown cloak with a satchel around her waist.

Tommy went to his house to put Juorse in his stable and made his way over to Wilbur. The girl was still there. Wilbur saw Tommy approaching and put his hand up, waving. Then Tommy noticed that he held no guitar.

“Hey, Tommy!” Wilbur shouted and Tommy smiled. Of course he could trust Wilbur, “This is my friend, Niki,” Wilbur said and the girl put her hand up shyly like a small wave.

“Hi, Tommy,” she said quietly, her voice very soft. Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but nothing intelligent came to mind, so he said the only thing he could think of.

“Ayup.”

Wilbur looked at Niki and then burst out laughing. Tommy scowled at him and lunged.

“Shut up, you stupid bastard!” he shouted, clawing at Wilbur for making him look like a fool. Wilbur held one hand out to stop him, it being effective. Once Tommy had calmed down, Wilbur took his hand away.

“Ay, Tommy, I thought we could lay off the guitar today and go to the woods, or something. Or the ocean. Niki’s going to come too.”

“If it’s okay,” Niki said sweetly, “I wouldn’t want to ruin your moment.”

“Of course it’s fine,” Tommy said quickly, not wanting to seem rude, “I don’t mind where we go.”

Wilbur jumped from the wall, messing with his hair as he landed.

“Let’s go then,” he said and walked in the direction Tommy always did when he used to go to the lake.

Tommy stood frozen for a moment, but only for a moment, and then he was trailing after Wilbur.

Niki, it seemed, was really fucking cool. Tommy thought so. She was easy to talk to and Tommy’s jokes actually landed, which he liked. He didn’t like that they were getting closer and closer to the lake, but it was ‘fine’, at least that was what he kept telling himself. It’s not like the Triple Stryke would be there; it had left.

Wilbur, it seemed, did want to get to the lake. He kept looking at Tommy to see what he thought when they took a turn and jumped a stump. Tommy knew he was trying to figure out if this was where he spent all of his time and how he felt, but Tommy never let on. In the end, they did reach the lake.

Tommy felt strange being with company to the lake; one that wasn’t Tubbo or Ranboo or a dragon.

“Woah!” Wilbur exclaimed, “This place is amazing!”

He slid down the small hill to the carter and stumbled the rest of the way. Niki moved for Tommy and he followed Wilbur, also nearly tripping after reaching the flat ground. Niki also came down and marvelled at the water, watching it’s shape and ripples with interest.

Tommy looked around the crater. Nothing much had changed, apart from the fact that he was not alone with his dragon. HIS dragon?

Wilbur nudged Tommy with his elbow, waking him up from his thoughts.

“You coming in?”

“The lake? Piss off. It’s too cold," Tommy snapped, folding his arms indignantly

“Yeah right. Come on, just roll up your trousers.”

“But…there’s fish in there!” Tommy protested and Wilbur dragged him towards the water. Tommy pulled his arm out of his grip and scowled at him, "Really; there are!"

“Really?” Niki asked curiously and Tommy nodded quickly, but Wilbur scoffed.

“Fish my arse. You just don’t know how to swim,” Wilbur snided. Tommy snorted.

“Swim? It’s not deep enough to bloody swim! The only way you’d be swimming was if you glided along on your knees!” Tommy exclaimed and Niki giggled.

Wilbur simply put his hands on his hips and then began to roll up his trousers higher than his knees, rolling them like a baker would pastry.

“Are you actually considering going in?” Tommy questioned.

“I’m not considering it. I am going in, and so are you?”

“I don’t think so,” Tommy said, folding his arms. Wilbur threw off his jumper, revealing a striped short sleeved shirt. He untied his boots and took them off, along with peeling away his socks. He made his way over to the water, dipping in his toes first and then advancing into the water up to his knees. Wilbur turned back to Tommy and Niki, a wide grin on his face. He waved at them.

“Come in in; the water’s lovely!”

Niki shook her head with a smile, “No thanks—I’ve had my fair share of water for today.”

“Tommy!” Wilbur hollered enthusiastically, shaking both of his hands gleefully, “Get in the water, or I’ll get you in my—” his eyes widened and he leapt up, not getting very far because he was in water, “OWWW, FUCK!” Wilbur shouted, “Something bit me!”

Tommy began to laugh, “I told you there were fish in there, you stupid shit!”

Wilbur frowned before jumping again.

“Fish can bite?”

Tommy burst into fit of wheezing laughter and clutched his sides, unable to control himself and fell to the floor. Niki was also laughing loudly , tears falling from her eyes.

“Of course they can, you twat! Get out!” Tommy shouted between breaths and Wilbur clamoured out of the water. He looked annoyed and his ankle was quickly getting red.

Tommy was still dying of laughter on the floor, and Wilbur went back to the water. Tommy was only able to open one of his eyes before a handful of water was being dunked on his head.

“Oh Fuck!” he screamed and waterdrops fell into his eyes, “You bastard!”

He leapt up and dived towards Wilbur, knocking him back towards the lakeside. Wilbur pushed Tommy away from him and Tommy’s head was dunked under the water.

Tommy got out quickly, gasping for breath and this time Wilbur was laughing. Tommy crawled away from the water, not able to do anything but laugh.

“You…prick,” Tommy gasped and Wilbur chuckled. Niki was stood to the side, watching everything transpire and was clutching her stomach with tears in her eyes. She muttered something that sounded like, "Brothers."

Wilbur held his hand out to Tommy and he took it, being pulled up from the ground. He pushed Wilbur as a last resort and was given a ruffle of his hair, though Wilbur soon realised that it was drenched.

---------------------------------------

When Tommy returned home, his smile was one of the widest it had ever been and his hair was still drenched. He was truly a sight to Tubbo and Ranboo, who were both confused as to what he had been doing. Tubbo, asking no questions, had passed him a towel after Tommy had came down the stairs. They ate their dinner in a silence sometimes filled with polite questions about their day. When Ranboo took in the wooden plates and went to wash them, Tubbo turned to Tommy with a fiery determination in his eyes.

“Tommy?” he asked, getting Tommy to look at him.

“Yes?”

Tubbo paused before pressing on, “I was thinking that tomorrow we could, I dunno, go out to the woods and eat lunch on the hills or something.”

Tommy considered what he said before questioning him.

“Really? How come?"

“Why do you think?” Tubbo said sourly, “I mean, we haven’t gone out for shits and giggles for ages, just the three of us. We spend all our time in the armoury, and you spend yours who knows where, with who knows who. I just…I miss hanging out. I miss hearing your jokes. I miss seeing you smile, at least when I’m around.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and the water from the tap stopped. Tommy gave Tubbo one of his signature ‘Tommy’ smiles.

“I’ll go.”

Chapter Text

One thing Tommy did not expect by accepting Tubbo’s invite was having his covers ripped off of him.

The cold morning air hit his body like a tidal wave, and Tommy was thankful he was wearing pyjamas.

“Errrr, whatjewant,” he mumbled, putting his underneath his pillow.

“Get up, lazy arse, we’re going out aren’t we?” Tubbo’s voice replied from outside his bed.

Tommy sighed and pulled his head out from under his pillow and opened his eyes. Sleep crusted around his eyes and the light hit them like a ray of the sun. Tommy wiped his eyes and glared at Tubbo, who was now disturbing Ranboo. The quiet boy’s black and white hair was a mess as he lifted his head up and rubbed his eyes.

Both Tommy and Ranboo shared the room on the top floor and Tubbo slept downstairs, as there wasn’t enough room for three boys in one room. In order for their house to have been built quickly, it had to be small. It had been big enough when it was just Tubbo and Tommy, but they had met Ranboo and they had to try to fit him in too. They hadn’t dared make him sleep all alone on the ground floor, so Tubbo had had to move downstairs.

Ranboo scowled at Tubbo and crossed his arms indignantly.

“Why the fuck you waking us up so early?” Tommy drawled, his hand enveloping his mouth as he yawned.

“You said we were going to go out,” Tubbo answered as he began to fold Tommy’s messy bed, so Tommy kicked at the covers.

“Yeah, later maybe, not before the sun can rise properly.”

Tubbo scowled at Tommy and clasped his hands over his kicking feet.

“If you wanted to see Sam so badly, maybe you shouldn’t have accepted.”

Tommy felt a pain in his chest and his brows softened. He didn’t want Tubbo to think that he didn’t want to be there; he was happy for them—all of them— to be going out to the woods again. But, he hadn’t told Sam he wasn’t going to see him, and he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to learn. He didn’t know how many he would have left.

“It’s not that—nevermind, I’m just tired.”

Tommy begrudgingly stepped out of bed and grabbed his clothes off of the chair next to his desk. Tubbo, who was satisfied in getting him up, headed down the stairs, but not before turning back to Ranboo, who still sat in bed with his covers over him.

“Come on, you too Boo. I don’t want to see that hair when I see you down here,” he said with a sly grin and Ranboo threw his hands in the air. If he could, he’d probably have been muttering something profanatory about Tubbo. But that was more of something that Tommy would do.

Tommy looked to Ranboo who sighed, getting out of bed and fetching his clothes. He didn’t seem happy about being woken up early, which Tommy thought was strange considering he had also come up with the idea.

------------------------------------------

When all three boys had eaten (Tubbo had fried bacon and eggs over the fire, a breakfast usually saved for birthdays or Snoggletog) they took their bags in hand—or around their shoulder—and headed out. The morning was cold and near frosty, but there was no frost on the ground. The dew still sat settled on the grass, and Tommy was glad he had chosen to wear socks.

The other people in the village were still probably asleep, though he didn’t follow their schedules. Tommy used to wonder about the other children in the village, the ones who had been under Puffy’s care. The ones there had been room for.

He never saw a lot of them, only when he played with Tubbo in the yard and they watched from the windows of their house, eyes wide and wondering. It made Tommy happy to have Tubbo, someone to talk to and play with, not another pair of eyes to watch him. To judge him because he wasn’t raised with class. He was only a weapon-smith’s son.

Tommy knew Foolish, knew how he worked all the time to sustain his mother and the children they housed. He often saw him on roofs or in gardens, milking yaks or plucking fowl. Tommy had spoken to the boy a few times, but he always seemed busy, ready to complete the next project on his agenda.

Tubbo— as it looked by his face—had a plan, and he certainly wasn’t going to waste any time putting it into action. He walked in front of Tommy and Ranboo, set in a direction and sticking to it.

As they walked, Tommy quipped to Ranboo and received smiles and comments from him with no sound.

They made their way into the forest, but Tubbo headed in a different direction than the lake, at least the route that Tommy would take. He looked at Ranboo with a questioning look, but he only shrugged his shoulders, his bicoloured eyes still not speaking. They trudged through overgrown bines and tree stumps that had endless roots to trip them up. Tubbo never stopped moving, never stopped to talk so Tommy could only talk to a wall of silence.

When Tubbo eventually stopped moving, he turned back to them with a smile, one Tommy hadn’t seen for what felt like years. It probably had been. He beckoned forwards and moved towards something Tommy couldn’t see. He followed Tubbo and his heart stopped. They were at the edge of a cliff, one that dropped to the crashing ocean below them, one that touched the clouds and the sun and the sky. Tommy had frozen on the spot, and Ranboo nudged him with his elbow, pointing at him and giving him a thumbs up. Tommy woke up from his haze and nodded, getting closer to the cliff.

“Don’t fall,” Tommy heard Tubbo say behind him, but Tommy was too busy staring at the periphery. It was striking.

Striking.

(And without wanting to—or meaning to—Tommy was led into thinking about dragons again.

How they were able to fly anywhere they pleased, how they could soar, how they could be free. Free to fly above clouds, free to soar above oceans and islands, be anywhere at any time.

Tommy felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to the tranquil eyes of Ranboo, who flicked his head behind them, to Tubbo. Tommy understood the message and moved away from the cliff, his eyes having one last look before turning away.

Dragons didn’t cross Tommy’s mind for the rest of the day, at least not until much later.)

The three boys joked and laughed and conversed for most of the day, just like they used to. It made Tommy happy to be with his two friends again, enjoying his time with them.

Just. Like. He. Used to.

They didn’t do much besides it, but the day went by quite quickly even so. When it was time for dinner, the three of them relocated to the hills above the Great Hall, as the wild boars were starting to sir and Tubbo did not want to be on the receiving end of those tusks again.

------------------------------------

The Great Hall was a vast hall burrowed into the side of a hill that could’ve been a mountain had it been bigger. Instead it made the hall a cave, and the room could probably fit about a thousand dragon in it. But the only dragons that had ever been inside were dead ones. The doors were as tall ad watchtowers and torches stood feet apart, and yet there were hundred of them. Tommy only ever went in when he needed to, or when Schlatt had taken him and Tubbo as festivities. He knew some people were always there, especially the Chief.

On top of the hill where they sat to eat was a small hole but big enough to for a person to fit. It led all the way down to the Great Hall as a means to escape. It had been abandoned for quite some time, as people didn’t need to flee that badly from attacks (or ‘raids’ as Tommy preferred to call them). Still, an echo could travel towards the hole and the sound could be heard from atop the hill.

Tubbo spread a sheet over the grass for them to sit on, placing his bag on the side they didn’t sit on so it would fly with the wind. He took a few sandwiches out of his bag and also put them on.

They ate and spoke heartily like they did before, but soon their conversation was interrupted by another. Out of the hole, down in the Great Hall, came a voice and a slamming of hands on a table.

“We need to act NOW!” a man shouted, echoing throughout the hall and out the hole. The three boys paused in their sentences and looked at one another.

“What the fuck was that?” Tommy asked. Tubbo sighed in annoyance.

“The L’Manberg Council is probably having another meeting. It’s all the Chief does these days. It’s not like he could actually try to put any effort into the village, of course,” Tubbo explained and another slam came down on wood. It reminded Tommy of the noise he always heard at Sam’s’.

“What do you mean?” Tommy asked again.

“It’s just what Schlatt says when we work. He goes on about how the Chief is always kept away in his study or the Great Hall, too busy with one problem he can’t solve instead of all the ones we have; the ones he can solve,” Tubbo described and a smile came to his face, “It’s a constant thing we hear, right Ranboo?”

Ranboo nodded with a small smile, and Tommy let it all sink in, and realising it was just another thing he wasn’t a part of with his family. His family?

He got up and moved over to the small hole, putting his ear to it. He wanted to listen to whatever was going on, something that only the Council could and would know.

“Tommy…” he heard Tubbo say exasperatingly but he held off with whatever he was going to say. Tommy listened to the underground commotion, not knowing what to expect and what he would hear.

“We cannot act of false actions, Michael. We have no idea where they are, and they have done nothing to us yet.”

This caused an array of shouts and angry disputes.

“Nothing to us yet?” another voice scoffed, “They don’t have to do anything yet. What they will do in the future is more important than now. L’Manberg would become a boar pit of fire and shame. They are more trouble than they are worth.”

This gained a few agreeing noises but a few opposed to it.

“What do you suggest, Phil?” someone asked, and Tommy knew the Chief was about to speak.

There was silence for a moment, but only for a moment, then, “I agree with HBomb…and Sneeg. These boys caused trouble when they were here, and it seems they’re causing trouble when they’re not here. But, they aren’t here, and their actions only affect other islands. Whatever they’re plotting, we’ll be ready if we keep notified, and we can tear them down when—or if—they come back,” he paused, Tommy heard, “Our hero is away, so we can’t rely on him yet. But we won’t go down without a fight. We may have to gain more troops. Pray tell me, how many of those orphaned children are still alive?”

Tommy pushed himself away from the hole and looked back at Tubbo and Ranboo, who were looking to the floor. Tubbo’s eyes looked strained. Tommy wondered if they knew something of which the men spoke; he wouldn’t be surprised if they were hiding it. But he too knew what the Council was suggesting.

“What was—” Tommy started but Tubbo stood up irately grabbing his bag and snatching the sheet, leading Ranboo to jump off of it quickly. He looked from Tubbo to Tommy with only fright in his eyes.

Was the sky getting darker already?

“Forget about it Tommy,” Tubbo snapped and Tommy was surprised by his exasperation. Did what they heard annoy and affect him that much?”

“But, don’t you wanna know what they mean? Something to get to the bottom of, I mean who—

“I SAID FORGET ABOUT IT TOMMY!” Tubbo yelled, his hands tensing around the sheet he held. Tommy jumped back, not expecting this outburst. He bit his lip and scowled.

“What did I miss this time?” he snapped, his shoes digging into the dirt as every muscle in his body tensed. Ranboo’s face contorted in grief and he slid to the floor. He knew what was coming.

He hated when his brothers fought. His brothers?

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tubbo asked, just as annoyed as Tommy.

“Forget it. Forget everything, like always Maybe you can miss something this time,” Tommy spat and turned on his heels. He didn’t look back as he walked away, not even to say goodbye to Ranboo.

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Ranboo watched as Tommy left. A tear fell from his eye, but he quickly realised it was rain. Those dark clouds almost seemed like a late omen for their once joyous day. His fingers closed into fists. But that was only for his own benefit, or at least to protest he could do but still another one that wouldn't be heard or seen.

He had never been one for a fighter. Or a talker. But that was how the world worked, painstakingly. The innocent always got the worst judgement.

Chapter Text

Ranboo had never wept as a baby.

His parents were relieved—everytime it turned night and they never had to get up to quieten him down. Never had bags under their eyes, never had bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep and silence. It was nothing like other parents claimed.

Because in their eyes, their child was perfect.

That relief that held soon turned to worry when he never said anything at all. A blank face and blinking eyes, a mouth that didn’t move with his tongue. His parents weren’t like Tommy; they didn’t look to eyes as the most important tool. But even Ranboo’s eyes were blank to Tommy at times.

His eyes were green as mistletoe and red as berries. It wasn’t strange for people on his island to be heterochromatic, and it affected his hair as well.

Black as death and white as life.

His mother once told him (when he was small, of course) that those things made him beautiful, and all the most beautiful people in the world looked and wanted to be like him.

Of course, his parents tried everything to make him speak, so they obviously didn’t think he was that perfect. Or they would’ve been satisfied with what they had. They watched him eat to see if he had a tongue constantly, if he had one he could speak.

He would speak.

Ranboo didn’t remember the first time he cried, nor did he the last. He didn’t remember the first cut on his cheek or bruise around his eye. He remembered the first time his father cried but not the first time he swore or lashed out. He remembered the first time his father took him to the market and bought apples his mother would bake in a pie, but did not remember the first time his father came back with liquor on his breath and bottles in his hand, how easily a man could be persuaded and addicted. He remembered the first time a dragon stared him down for death, but not the first time they arrived in the town and killed thoughtlessly, a grim smile on their jagged teeth.

Ranboo was led to believe it was his fault, because he did not open his mouth, but in future days when he would tell his brothers of his trauma, they would tell him it was nothing but, and his parents were not good people altogether.

He remembered hearing the screams of his mother and the shouts of his father and wondering that if he could speak, would he do that too? Would he scream a thousand profanities to the people he loved?

Ranboo had no friends in his old village. The children were told—mostly by each other—to stay clear of him. How ironic that they had no words for him, though he was the one that had no words at all.

Instead, he played by himself, either in his own room or in the yard behind his house, when his parents felt generous enough. It was quite easy for a small child to entertain themselves—even without material—so Ranboo would imagine.

He would imagine he was the bravest, strongest soldier in the world, using sticks as swords to slash any opponent he could see in his vision, wearing robes of fur and scales. He imagined that when he spoke, he spoke with words that commanded armies, that had calmed the strongest men and built entire nations on syllables. He imagined a crown on his head and smiles that were faced towards him, not in doubt but pride.

He imagined his family was loving and altogether.

Ranboo had no siblings, cousins, uncles or grandparents, so when his mother died it was just him and his father. Just him, a nine-year-old boy. And his father.
Life could only spit on Ranboo and make him wipe it up.

He didn’t know why he was treated as an outcast, as a mongrel or an eldritch freak to his father. He didn’t know why the stability of his tongue made him bruise or had once made his mother cry. To Ranboo, he was just another boy but no one else accepted it.

He cried salty tears every night and suffocated on them as he slept. He went days malnourished and days avoided, painstakingly invisible to those who could not see him, could not hear him.

There was one thing that Ranboo was grateful for. His mind. Oh how glorious was the mind, a place to think anything, see anything and never be heard by anyone else. A place just for you. A place where Ranboo heard what his voice could be, see the dreams he dreamed off in a happier life. Make up a person he so desperately wanted to be and be them.

Making thousands happy, making himself happy, making his friends happy. He didn’t think anyone was truly thankful for the mind. He didn’t know how anyone could survive without one.

Without a place to donate all kinds of thoughts and not be judged for them; he didn’t know how many times he had thought of creeping up behind his father and putting a knife in the back of his head, only to feel guilty for it later. He knew the gods would be at his throat if he ever did, and Ranboo did not want to go to Niflheim and choke on the toxic fumes of noxious fog for all eternity; even if he wasn’t a religious boy, he still feared the afterlife’s consequences.

For all the Ranboo claimed he knew and didn’t about his past life, he did forget quite a bit. Tubbo said it was something called ‘Dissociative amnesia’, which was something that Ranboo was glad he couldn’t say, but quite frankly neither could Tubbo. He remembered key parts of his life, but things like names and his room and his village square faded into bursts of colour, and then turned to nothing at all. He sometimes even forgot the name he was given, as he had had one once, but it wasn’t that important, as it wasn’t who he was now. And that mattered. One day, the most important day, stayed with him every night.

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One night when he was fourteen, Ranboo was at home, as usual, sitting quietly by the fire alone. His father spent most nights—every night—at the tavern, so Ranboo’s evening were usually the most pleasant part if his day, at least until the tavern closed for the night. He had found a book in his father’s room, which he did not usually enter under any circumstances but he was curious. It had only smelt as bad as his father did.

An abrupt slam of the front door made Ranboo jump, and the book slipped from his hand. His father was on the receiving end of the door, and he looked just about as happy as a slaughtered lamb. And Ranboo felt just like one, because there were three men with him.

He recognised them as crooks, bandits, hagglers. Anyone who did anything to get a quick coin and do rotten business. Ranboo gulped and tried to stay as still as he could, trying to blend into the house around him. Being quiet wasn’t something he needed to worry about, but he held a statement of attracting attention.

All four men looked similar in appearance because they were so washed up, dirty and repulsive. His plan failed because they looked to him as soon as they stepped in the door. The bandits smiled wickedly, causing Ranboo to start panicking. Would tomorrow be another morning of bruises and stiff bones? Did his father hire a squadron to take his drunk anger out on his son?

“That’s 'im,” his father drawled, pointing to Ranboo with fingers that only pointed either too far left or right of Ranboo. The crooks smiled again, causing Ranboo to feel lightheaded.

“An’ the payment?” the crook next to his father asked, putting out the palm of him hand, “I don’t think this kinda job will go unno’iced without it. Not with…current stakes.”

His father slowly put his hand in his front pocket, wriggled it around for a moment and then pulled out a sack of coins. He handed it to the main crook, who shook the bag for the rattle, grinned at it and then leered sharply at Ranboo. He snapped his fingers and one of the crooks behind him drew a sack from his pocket and stretched it open.

“Ronald…” Ranboo’s father drawled, looking carefully into the eyes of his son now, the eyes he never could be bothered to look deeper behind and find his son’s misery. Ranboo found himself forgetting and remembering his name each time he thought about it, “These men are gonna take you now, y’hear me. I don’t want you comin’ back here, cause there’ll be no one that wants you. In fact, I don’t think anyone would ever want you.”

Ranboo stared in fear and anticipation at his father as he could only listen, the crooks getting ever closer. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t cry aloud or scream or argue, couldn’t tell him everything he thought of him at the moment. He could run, sure, but there were four grown men blocking the door. And his father was, sadly, right. He had no where to got because no one wanted him.

Ranboo stood, glued to the floor and unable to resist as the men came towards him, and one of them threw the sack over his head. He then began to thrash and swipe at the people around him, but soon his hands were tied, and he was truly hopeless and alone. Tears fell from Ranboo’s eyes and his chest moved faster than a banging drum, though it sounded just like one in Ranboo’s ears.

He felt faint. He felt scared. He felt angry.

He could not even cry for help.

Ranboo remembered being carried out, unable to see his father’s reaction but knowing it was one of nothing, because he did not care about his only son. He remembered getting tired of thrashing and accepting compliancy, hating himself for making it easy for the crooks to steal him. Well, not steal. He had been sold, after all.

He remembered being placed in the bottom of a boat, shoved in a corner and the sack never being taken from his eyes. He remembered the fear of knowing nothing but darkness, and his eyes strapped shut just like his mouth. He remembered rocking backwards and forwards as he headed across the ocean, the ocean which was as salty as his eyes and lips that held his tears, heading in god knows which direction. He certainly would never be able to get back to the island he had lived on. He remembered lulling to sleep to only see the nightmares which were somehow better than the reality that he lived in, and then waking to see nothing at all.

-------------------------------------------

Ranboo woke one day to footsteps moving towards him and the sack being pulled from his head. His eyes adjusted to the light around him and then recoiled as a dirty face with half of its teeth missing was in front of him.

“Rise n shine buddy!” the crooks said with a venomous grin, “Hope you had a great trip!”

Ranboo glared at the man, which only made him chuckle more.

“Not too fond then, eh? I suppose that doesn’t matter,” his grip tightened on Ranboo’s wrist, and his smile was no more, “Well I’ll tell you somethin’ fuckface, there is nothing to be excited about. Not with what’s gonna happen to ya, but that’s none of my concern, only makin’ sure you get to your destination in one piece and I get my reward. So I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. We’re stoppin’ off at an island to stretch our legs and get somat to eat. To make sure I get paid, you’ll be eatin’ to, if you can open your fuckin’ mouth. So, we’ll be ferryin’ you across the island. If you go to make one damn movement to run, we’ll get ya. If you try to get anyone’s attention, we’ll get ya. You’ll be good an’ compliant all the time we’re there. If you aren’t, then I guess either I get no money or the people get no prize? Duje understand?”

Ranboo sat stiffly against the wood and nodded timidly. The crook smiled.

“Good. Now, these’ll be comin’ off for now, but remember what I said, or you’re face’ll be lookin’ even unprettier than it already is.”

The crook pulled Ranboo up and kicked him to get him walking. After hours of idle travelling, his legs were stiff and aching but he manged to get off of the boat.

The island was large and had more people early in the morning than Ranboo had seen in his village. People did whatever they needed to do to sustain themselves, and only a few had a passing glance at Ranboo as he walked between the men. He looked strange compared to them, and especially to the people in this village. There was no one that had the same features as him.

The rest of the time he was there, Ranboo spent it in a small inn, eating as much as was delivered to him while the crooks drank too early in the morning. They found his hunger amusing and treated him like a dancing monkey. The innkeeper looked at his company worryingly but didn’t pass up an opportunity to receive wage. Ranboo tried not to listen to the conversation of his companions, but heard a few words like ‘mines’ and ‘pests’.

When they came out of the inn, the crooks seemed more relaxed, yet less knowledgeable of their surrounding and far too inebriated for before noon. They pushed him as he walked and poked their knives at his arms for fun. They stopped behind a row of houses and the leader stared at the boy cruelly.

“Y’know what I say boys?” he asked and then burped on his rotting beverage, “I think this rat needs to get just as hydrated as we are.”

At first, Ranboo thought they were going to force spirits down his throat, but it was much worse than that. The other crooks understood what their leader meant and smiled, grabbing Ranboo by his arms and dragging him away. Ranboo knew that they had no idea what they were doing, and certainly didn’t care about what the other people in the village thought any longer.

When Ranboo first saw the sea, he knew he was doomed. They were going to drown him, or at least hold him under for as long as it pleased them but long enough that he wouldn’t be ruined. Ranboo dug his heels into the sand as they got closer, but they only pushed him forwards.

His palms cut on shells and rocks that sat before the sea and his knees grew dirty by wet sand. He tried to stand, but his face met the sand for another time.

“Where duje think you’re going,” one of the crooks slurred, and Ranboo felt pain in his side as a foot came into contact with it.

Then again. And again. And again.

Ranboo lay hopelessly in the sand, pain hitting every part of him and he put his hands over his head. He then felt himself picked up and then he saw the ugly face of his attacker.

“Don’t like the sand?” he garbled, “How about the water?”

Ranboo’s eyes widened as he toppled forward and was met headfirst with the cold, rushing water of the ocean. And it tasted just like his tears.

A hand was placed over his head and a foot on his back, making it impossible for him to get up no matter how hard he tried and no matter how hard he struggled. He was pulled up, gasping for air and then pushed back under again. It was an agonising, endless cycle of torture that Ranboo felt he was lapsed in forever.

After dozens of hopeless chances of air, Ranboo felt the pressure on his hand and back release, but no one was pulling him up. Ranboo escaped the watery torment and gasped for air, water drip, drip, dripping from his eyes and pain flooding them as he opened them. He turned to face the shore and saw what caused his released.

One of the crooks was sprawled on the ground, blinking unexpectantly and the other two facing towards something else. Someone else. Two someone elses. Two boys, about his age but not his height, were stood opposed to the crooks, angry and scared and aggressive. Ranboo stood looking at them, confused but thankful for their arrival. His chest palpitated faster than a dragon could beat its wings and he observed them, water drip, drip, dripping down his face.

One boy was smaller than the other and definitely smaller than Ranboo. He had fluffy brown hair that perched on his head like a bumblebee on a flower. He wore a fitting jacket with fur encasing the hood and a green tartan shirt underneath. Dark trousers covered his legs and tall boots went to his knees. He looked angry and determined, his eyes shifting from the crooks to Ranboo. His eyes were pale blue, and they held a story of adversity but love.

The other boy was taller than the other and only slightly shorter than Ranboo. He also had fluffy hair but his was blonde and curly. He wore a thin red jacket and a white shirt, his trousers brown silk and his boots black leather. He held a slingshot in his hand and looked at the crooks with malice, Ranboo with sympathy. His eyes were also blue but a deeper one, and they told a story of hardship and abandonment. Ranboo noticed a dagger in both of their belts.

“You kids better scram before you end up getting hurt,” the main crook drawled, but then he grinned, “Unless ya want the same fate as this one. I’m sure no one would notice ya gone; you look pretty ragged.”

“You arseholes can leave him alone!” the brunette shouted angrily and the crook dropped his grin in exchange for a scowl.

“What’re you gonna do about it? We got paid for ‘im, fair n square. Business is business, boys, so why don’t you go home before something bad ‘appens,” he said through gritted teeth and the boy raised his fists.

“Bring it on,” he spat and Ranboo was amazed by his courage. Why would he risk himself for Ranboo? His own pride for a fight he thought he could win?

He hadn’t time to guess because then the crooks were flying onto the boys, drawing punches and kicks like weapons. The blonde’s slingshot was no good up close, but his fists scored like goals. The other boys size did him well as he snuck behind his attacker and grabbed him from behind.

Ranboo watched in amazement as his captors were being bested by two boys smaller than then. If he knew how incompetent they were, maybe he would’ve tried to best them himself. As the last crook went down—bruised and battered and bloody— Ranboo went to make his way over to the boys but hesitated. Could he trust them? Had they fought the crooks for their own selfish gain? Or were they just that nice?

He didn’t have time to think as he felt fast hands grip his ankle and Ranboo looked down to see one of them grippling his ankle as a last effort to salvage his wounded pride. Ranboo effortlessly shook his hands off, but decided to kick the man between the ribs as a final attempt at defiance. He smiled at the wounded sound the man made before feeling guilty for it.

Ranboo looked at the boys in front of him, who were breathing quickly and the blonde had a cut on his lip, blood drip, drip, dripping from his face. The brunette studied Ranboo before holding out his hand to him. Ranboo did not hesitate to take it.

“Let’s get out of here, before they get up,” the brunette said and Ranboo could only nod. He wondered how he was going to communicate to them, to tell them he was cursed to silence.

The boys fled to hills and a forest behind houses, far away from the beach and wounded bandits. When they were far enough away, the brunette collapsed over the hills. Ranboo wondered what he was doing before he realised he was laughing. The other boy was too, lying next to him with their heads close together, and all Ranboo could do was smile.

When the two boys stopped laughing, the brunette sat up and looked at Ranboo with inquiring eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked him and Ranboo nodded quickly, “That was fucking mental; I didn’t wake up today thinking I was going to fight someone! They deserved it, though. Men like that, snatching any kid they can find and selling them off to mines. They never get back to where they came from and are either dammed to a place worse than whatever awaits after death or die before reaching it, that’s what Schlatt said. Schlatt spat on the ground when he heard they were going round again and said, ‘I’ll be damned if I ever let any kids get took by them lot!’ Schlatt takes care of us, see, and he does a decent job of it, though I guess he used to because we live by ourselves now and—”

“Shut up, Tubbo!” the blonde said, ruffling the other boys hair, “You talk too much, give him a chance to say his piece.”

They turned to Ranboo, who could only look to the ground.

“Not much of a talker, eh? That’s alright, neither is Tubbo unless he had good enough company,” the blonde said with a smile, “He could ramble for days and not notice you turn to bones.”

The brunette, who Ranboo assumed to be Tubbo, thumped the blonde on the head and scowled.

“Shut up, I just have a lot to say, speaking of which,” he paused and put his hand out to Ranboo, who hesitated, “I’m Tubbo, unless you haven’t figured it out. That’s Tommy, too.” Ranboo put out his hand to Tubbo and shook it. His hands were rough but warm; Tubbo was always warm. He didn’t know it, but Ranboo had sealed a deal he would keep for all of his life by shaking the hand of his rescuers. Tommy also brought out his hand and Ranboo also shook it; his hands were mildly warm but soft and tense. Maybe Ranboo could work out people from their hands, as Tommy did their eyes and Tubbo did their movements.

“What’s your name?” Tubbo asked and Ranboo tensed. How could he tell them? Would they consider him rude?

Instead Ranboo did something he didn’t expect—he brought his fingers to his lips like arrows and shook his head. The two boys blinked and conspired in their minds.

“You…can’t speak?” Tommy asked, getting it quicker than Tubbo did and Ranboo nodded. He felt relived at how easy it was for him to get it out, even when he hadn’t had to say anything at all.

“No wonder those rotten bastards tried to take you; you couldn’t get any help without a sense of voice!” Tubbo cried and his hands turned to fists, “I swear, if I ever see them again, or anyone like them for that matter, I won’t hesitate to use my dagger on them. The nerve!”

He turned back to Ranboo, almost in sympathy, and then had what looked like a revelation of some sort. He dove into his satchel and pulled out some scrap paper and a lead pencil.

“Write it out,” Tubbo offered and passed him the paper. Ranboo took it and paused. Being mute didn’t make him stupid. He knew how to read and write, through practice and lessons from himself as he dove through any books he could find and forced himself to learn the words and copy them. It was an ordeal that pained him close to being struck, but it bequeathed a superior result.

He paused for a moment, wondering what to write. He did not want his old name, the name that had been given to him by a family that wept and fell apart. A name called out to him in his head, and Ranboo traced the pencil over the paper, writing the letters in swirling text. Satisfied, he passed the note back to Tubbo, who squinted at the paper.

“R…Ranboo? Is that your name?” he asked. Ranboo nodded and pushed his hair back. Tommy continued to stare at him with blank eyes.

“It must suck arse not being able to speak. I mean, you can’t tell people how you’re feeling or what you want. You can’t tell them your dreams or stories,” Tubbo said and looked shamefully at the floor, “I always took speaking for granted; I suppose I didn’t have time to think about it much what with work and dragon attacks.”

Ranboo moved to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and saw the way Tommy was looking at him. He didn’t like it. Tubbo looked up at him and smiled.

“How about…if we made up our own language?” Tubbo said and Ranboo gave him a questioning look. Tubbo positioned his legs to cross them and held his hands out. He moved them left to right in the air, occasionally tapping his hands while doing so. Ranboo watched his movement with wide, unblinking eyes.

Tubbo stopped and smiled, “That’s how you should say your name, not on paper. In fact, I think we should make everything up and only the three of us can understand it.”

“What’s the point?” Tommy asked, something Ranboo was too polite to think.

“It’s something just for us, a secret. Besides it’s much easier than always having to have a pencil and paper in hand. I’m not so much good with my reading anyway, y’see,” Tubbo said sheepishly and locked eyes with Ranboo, “I don’t really know you at all, nothing about your past of way of life, but I feel—I know that I can trust you.” Ranboo felt his heart drop, but in a good way, an honest, warm way. He had never had friends before. He felt his finger begin to move, like Tubbo’s had, but making new movements. Orchestrating a melody of his legacy.

I. Trust. You. Too. And he did.

--------------------------------------------

Ranboo remembered entering the house he loved and lived in for the first time, taking in something that was naturally beautiful. And it could be his. He remembered the hours of ‘conversation’ with Tommy and Tubbo as they coordinated the language they sought to create, constantly writing and conferring between them. The other boys would never use it, only understand what Ranboo meant when he said it. Well, they could use it to converse between them when there was someone else in the room who they didn’t want knowing what they were saying.

Ender, Ranboo decided to call it. And it fit.

Ranboo remembered meeting Schlatt for the first time and knowing it wouldn’t be the last, remembered how his narrowed, brazen eyes stared down at Ranboo with what he only thought then was loathing, but now looked back and saw care and understanding, how the man was truly caring when he was with the people he cared about, how he had raised two boys that he had nothing to do with like his sons.

Ranboo remembered the belittling eyes of the people in the town as he appeared all the time in the town, watching him from afar with prurience, always on him and his strange eyes and hair. A stranger who they were expected to consider as one of their own. A stranger without a tongue, they said, but Ranboo thought that ridiculous when they saw him eating in the town square.

Ranboo remembered the stone-cold face of the Chief as he studied Ranboo up and down like an experimentational rat, decoding he was fit enough to live on his island. His island. He remembered his low tone and hand of rings and a hat with perched on his head instead of a helmet, green and white, green and white, green and—. An endless, hypnotising pattern.

Ranboo remembered his life after his old one, joyous instead of disheartening, fun instead of dreary, accompanied instead of lonely. He was never alone, but it was good.
When Ranboo awoke every night from terrors only he could see, hear, feel, he could not scream for help and let his cries out into the night. His head cried with agonising noises of the pained and all he could do was listen. He smacked the back of his bed as he slept and when he woke he fell—always falling in the darkness—off of the side of his bed. He was never alone. Voices in his head whispered to him sweetly.

"You are fine."
"YOU AREN'T FINE!"
"They are the reason."
"YOU ARE THE REASON!"
"Shhhhhhh..."
"SPEAK!"
"⎅⍜⋏'⏁ ⊬⍜⎍ ⍀⟒⋔⟒⋔⏚⟒⍀?"
"⊬⍜⎍ ☊⍜⎍⌰⎅ ⋏⟒⎐⟒⍀ ⍀⟒⋔⟒⋔⏚⟒⍀, ⟟⏁ ⍙⏃⌇ ⏃⌰⌰ ⊬⍜⎍⍀ ⎎⏃⎍⌰⏁. ⍙⏃⌇⋏'⏁ ⟟⏁?"

He could not scream for help but it always arrived in the from of Tubbo, holding his hand and pulling him into a warm embrace. Tubbo was always warm. Tubbo, always by his bedside at his urgency. Tubbo, ready to sacrifice his bed for Ranboo to sleep in. Tubbo, ready to sacrifice his night’s sleep to be by Ranboo’s side. It was a debt Ranboo knew he could never repay.

Tommy cared too, Ranboo knew, he just had a hard way of showing it. He was never rude to him intentionally—unless he tried to be. It must’ve been hard for someone like him; a stranger, an outcast, an intruder to Tommy’s way of life. How he came and took his place besides Tubbo, besides Schlatt. It was only when he realised how badly messed up Ranboo was that Tommy was there for him, trusted him, loved him just as he had loved Tubbo. They were brothers; by blood or vows they were brothers.

And if Tommy thought he was an outsider, he truly knew nothing of which happened in Ranboo’s head. True, he had always been put first in their group, making sure he was alright, making sure he wouldn’t be reminded of his past when in fact he thought about it every day.

He felt abandoned, lost to the shores. Ranboo loathed water. Everyone had their own things to do these days; Tommy went who knew where with who knows who everyday but enjoying himself more than Ranboo had seen over the last year. Tubbo fought to prove himself to everyone around him; Schlatt, to tell him he was worthy; Tommy, to show him he could get by easily without thinking about him and that he was right; Ranboo, to prove he could be trusted and still by the same boy who held his hand through everything when in fact Ranboo had outgrown his grip.

But Ranboo had no words to say, so he was never heard. And no one truly saw him. He sat on stools in corners of houses and their minds, he looked down when they looked to see him and made himself deaf when they raised their voices.

He wanted to cry with his mouth hanging open and noise erupting, be loud enough for people to hear him and turn, expressing grief and gratitude. He wanted to fight and scream so they would see him, see him rotting in grief and despair because he his lack of voice was suffocating him, a lack of air rather than words. He wanted to slam his hands against the walls or break something precious to shatter their mirage and break the mirror to find him behind it. But he could do nothing.

-----------------------------------------------

As he watched his brother walk away from him, Ranboo knew once again he could do nothing.

Chapter Text

A boy with blonde hair stormed across the hills, footsteps clapping against pebbles like the thunder in the sky. A storm was brewing, in his head and the sky. Fists clenched like iron and murder on his face, he made his way back home, where he would not be staying.

Tommy stomped to the house on the outskirts of the town, his eyes blazing. He hated feeling stupid, being hollered at, feeling like an antagonist when all he wanted was an answer. Rain lashed down his face and back like constant iron nails. A stranger could've mistaken the rain on his face for tears.

He slammed the door open and it thudded against the wall, contending against the lightning in the sky. Tommy stormed up the stairs two steps at a time. He grabbed the satchel under his bed that held everything he had taken away from his visits to Sam’s and the cloak hanging from the wall next to his bed. It was going to tip down, but he wasn’t staying here any longer. He was tired of feeling like a second-class citizen in his own home.

Tommy took one last look at the house as he stood by the door. He was going to miss this place. Pulling his hood over his head, he walked out of the door, closing it for what he thought would be the last time. He was wrong of course.

Juorse stood grazing on hay in his stable and looked up at Tommy doubtfully, as if the stallion was questioning his decisions too. Tommy sighed and rubbed the horse’s mane before leading him out of the stable and clambering onto his back.

Grabbing the reigns and patting the side of the horse with his foot, Tommy travelled away from his home, with no looks back. Ranboo and Tubbo would be coming home from the downpour, whether Tommy was there or not.

--------------------------------------------

Tubbo didn’t seem to care that Tommy wasn’t home. Ranboo was nervous, especially after the outbreak of screams the two boys had been involved in. Tubbo had taken one glance of the house as they walked in, drenched, and shrugged to himself.

Ranboo looked around self-consciously and went he went to his bedroom; Tommy was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and changed out of his clothes that were drip, drip, dripping like a wet cloth. When he went down to the ground floor, Tubbo was simply wiping a table, a blank but somehow grim expression on his face.

Ranboo, just like Tubbo, had felt sick to his stomach when he heard the Chiefs secret speech, knowing what it entailed. He didn’t know if he would have to be part of a war that L’Manberg acted on; was he considered a true citizen? Was he deemed an orphan child too? Ranboo didn’t know if his father was alive, and he never wanted to.

Besides, he wasn't much of a fighter.

Taking a stride towards Tubbo, Ranboo tapped on his shoulder and the brunette looked up with empty eyes. It made Ranboo shiver that the boy who promised him the world had no world left inside of him.

‘Where. Is. Tommy?' Ranboo signed and Tubbo shrugged.

“Doesn’t really affect me, does it?” the boy said and went back to cleaning. Ranboo put his hand on his shoulder and turned him towards him.

‘Don’t. Say. That. Of course. It. Affects. You. He’s. Your. Friend.' “If he was truly my friend, would he argue against me, leave me everyday and constantly lie all the time? He can go live in those woods for all I care,” Tubbo stated and Ranboo scowled.

‘If. He. Truly. Believed. It. Was. The. Truth. Does. That. Make. Him. A. Liar?’ Ranboo asked and Tubbo blinked, “I. Haven’t. Seen. Him. As. Happy. As. He. Is. Now. In. A. Long. Time.” Tubbo stared down at his feet and clenched tightly at the rag in his hand. Ranboo cusp his chin and lifted it up to look at him, eyes meeting eyes.

‘Maybe. We. Should. Just. Give. Him. The. Chance. To. Be. Happy. Without. Biting. Back.’

-------------------------------------------

The journey to Sam’s seemed to be quicker than usual despite the fact that muddy paths slowed them down as Juorse frequently got his hooves stuck. Tommy had to wipe his face every minute to stop the downpour of rain that blinded his eyes and fell down his face.

The cottage looked gloomy and dejected in the storm as lightning reflected in the windows—reflective of Tommy’s mood. There was now a small arch above the door to fit a person, making Tommy wonder if Sam knew the storm was coming. It was one of the worst ones they had had yet.

Coming down from his stead, Tommy rushed over to the door, banging on it with his fists. He was no longer getting spat on from the sky when he was under the arch, but Juorse had no such pleasure.

No one came to the door.

Tommy banged his fists again on the door. No one came. “Sam!” he shouted as he banged the door continuously, “It’s me; Tommy. Let me in, haven’t you seen the fucking weather?!”

No one came to the door.

Scowling, Tommy pulled the reigns of Juorse in his hand as he went around the back of the house. Behind the house was a cave that Tommy had only ever seen through the windows of Sam’s house. It burrowed into the side of the mountain, and Tommy did not know how deep it went.

He stood before the cave and found it deep enough to enter. Tommy went to take a pause but he was already entering and taking Juorse in with him. He only went to pause because this was where the crashing came from everytime he visited Sam. But then again, Sam always came into the cave.

The cave turned out to be deeper than Tommy anticipated and led all the way through the mountain, at least it seemed. It had been quite dark near the entrance but torches lit the way after getting into the core of the cave. It nestled into a wide room with stone walls but bare, for it wasn’t really a room like in a house.

Tommy blew out one of the torches and tied the horse’s reigns to it. The room didn’t seem to dim. Curiously, Tommy wondered what else was in the cave. Why Sam came in everyday and said nothing of it. Juorse nestled down on the floor and Tommy gave him a carrot he had stuffed in his pocket before moving towards the tunnel that went deeper into the mountain.

And then he dove in.

The tunnels were wider than Tommy expected and littered in torches that blazed with an unnatural fire, dancing like ribbons in the wind. It all seemed eerie. Tommy was met with a crossroads as he reached the end of the tunnel.

Left or right. (Fight or Flight).

Tommy chose the right path and picked left.

The tunnel was the same as the one before, except quieter as it was further away from the rain, but too quiet that noise fuzzed in Tommy’s mind. Then, he saw a stream.

It was hidden in corner of the new cavern he entered, one that was the largest Tommy had ever seen. It was like he had stumbled into the bottom of a ravine. The stream came from a mouth hidden in the top of the stone wall that ended the hollow. Rocks sat like disfigured, dismantled parts, piled on top of another and scattered around as if placed by children. The stream ran smoothly down its course until it escaped through a small gap to the outside. Tommy thought the whole cavern looked quite astounding, it didn’t quite natural.

-------------------------------------

It came out of nowhere.

Erupting steps towards Tommy didn’t notify him quickly enough that something was coming. He only had to turn his head to see the beast tackling towards him. Tommy stood rooted to the spot, unable to move, not even quiver. His heart was all that was keeping him alive, and it felt like it was failing. He didn’t know how to react because he didn’t know what to expect.

The dragon had relatively large wings, a wide torso, and a tail with a club-like hammer on the tip. Its body had firm armour plates on the neck and a large lower jaw, a battle axe-shaped muzzle and two, very sharp, elongated horns. It’s scales were an iridescent emerald that mixed in with sunset orange and yellow. It’s eyes were yellow like a bird and glared angrily at Tommy like he had disturbed the beats. He just might’ve.

Tommy got a hold of his legs and staggered back in total fear, trying t get as far away from the beast as he could. *So this is what Sam keeps in his cave*. The dragon snapped and snarled at Tommy, it’s claws, teeth, mouth getting ever closer to Tommy. Suddenly, it let out an ear-splitting roar, and it was only than that Tommy decided to run.

That might not have been a good idea.

He turned on his heals and sprinted as fast as he could away from the dragon. He heard it chase after him, roaring and scraping at the stone with it’s claws and Tommy held everything in him to not look back. After all, all the knowledge he had retained had vanished when the dragon had brandished its wings, claws and teeth. All he knew was the fear he had been brought up with.

Tommy turned at the intersection in the cave, hoping to lead the dragon away. It didn’t. It was forever on his tail. Tommy ran as fast as he could, knowing he was the hunt and the beats was after him and him alone. He reached the cave Juorse sat in and the horse attacked in a frenzied panic and the dragon seemed to have entered the cave too. The animal thrashed in its reigns and hooves smacked against stone. The dragon roared and one last tug sent the horse running in terror out of the cave.

Tommy only had time to mourn himself as he curled up into a ball in the corner of the cave as the dragon roared down his ears.

“Sam’s keeping a monster behind his house,” Tommy mumbled, or maybe he thought it because he didn’t dare speak as the dragon roared down his ears, so close to his face, “And it will be the one to finish me.”

His heart racing and eyes scrunched dup so much they hurt, Tommy felt light and his eyes shut while the dragon get ever closer to him. Tommy could only imagine a funeral with no visitors and no flowers planted over his grave.

He could’ve sworn he saw a figure appear in his blurred vision as he faded away…

----------------------------------------

“Tommy…” someone murmured and the boy twitched, “Tommy! Can you hear me?”

Tommy’s eyes twitched and then gradually opened. In front of him was not the thing he had dreamt of but Sam, eyes wide, angry, yet caring. He was shaking Tommy’s shoulder and crouching in front of him, taking up all of his view of the cave.

“Huh?” Tommy mumbled and sat up. Sam has his hand over his head and shoulder.

“Are you alright?” the man asked quietly. Tommy remembered nothing, certainly not how he got there.

“I…I think so,” the boy whispered and then saw something moving behind Sam. Something scaly. Something green. And then his memories kicked in.

“Wait a fucking minute!” Tommy yelled and pushed himself to stand up.

“Tommy! You need to sit down; you just fainted!” Sam tried to reason with him but Tommy saw the beast behind him and threw away his hands.

“You’ve been keeping that…that thing in here!” Tommy shouted, pointing at the dragon behind Sam, who growled at Tommy, “What the fuck? It could’ve killed me!”

Sam stood quietly before shaking his head, “I thought I taught you better than that, Tommy. That ‘thing’ is a dragon, and ‘it’ is a she. She would’ve done no harm to you unless she thought you were bad. Trust me, she can tell.”

“Still, you can’t keep a dragon as a pet! If the village knew—”

“If the village knew, it wouldn’t be any of their concern,” Sam snapped, “I am no longer with that village. Besides, I couldn’t just leave her.”

Sam opened a sack that Tommy now noticed and removed a fish wrapped in a type of leaf. The dragon grumbled fondly and Sam placed the fish in front of her and she devoured it quickly. Sam placed the whole sack in front of the dragon and patted her affectionately while she ate.

“She’s a Rumblehorn, ain’t she?” Tommy asked and Sam nodded, smiling.

“At least you learnt one thing,” he said and crossed his legs to sit by the dragon, “Her name’s Fran.”

That was when Tommy noticed there was something off about Sam’s right leg, as he could see it now his ankles were exposed. Instead of a normal ankle, there was a metal device that lead into his foot. In fact, his foot wasn’t there either. Sam caught him staring.

“What…happened to you?” Tommy asked after a minute and met Sam’s eyes, “And I mean everything this time.”

Sam sighed and rubbed his temple, “I supposed you ought to know.” He patted a spot next to him with his hand and Tommy hesitantly shuffled over. Then, Sam grabbed his hand carefully and moved it. Tommy tensed as his hand was placed on the back of the Rumblehorn.

“She won’t bite,” Sam reassured and Tommy slowly moved his fingers. Fran’s scales felt much more different than the ones he had held, though know he recognized them as the same type. They connected into her back and blended together carefully. Fran purred affectionately and poked Tommy with her wing. Tommy smiled. This was what he knew about dragons.

“What happened to your ankle, then?” Tommy pried, taking his hand away from Fran’s back and Sam replaced him.

“It was Fran that did that,” Sam said nonchalantly and Tommy blinked.

“What?” he asked, his mouth hanging open. Fran, although not at first, seemed sweet and gentle.

“She didn’t mean to, of course,” Sam added, “But nature always kicks in over nurture. I was in the woods one day, on a different island at the time. I was an explorer, maybe even a hunter if I was so damned. Fran appeared and I didn’t throw away my shot, not as a scared boy. Neither did Fran. My crossbow went to her tail as it swung and interjected at a nervous point. Her teeth did to my ankle. There was nothing more too it, besides some blood.”

He explained it so calmly that Tommy couldn’t help but be as silent as he could, fascinated. The Rumblehorn grumbled apologetically to Sam and manoeuvred her head under his arm. Sam rubbed her snout.

“It took a long time for me to gain her trust, and her to gain mine. We were both sort of angry at each other, but in the end I gained a friend, and knowledge of a better world.”

They sat quietly again before Tommy made the next noise.

“And then?”

“And then?”

“Well, I’m guessing you didn’t just settle back home with a foot gone and a happy little life knowing dragons are kind and not what everyone says,” Tommy suggested and Sam sighed.

“I’m afraid not. I knew what I did, and didn’t hesitate to show what I learnt. I made myself a replacement foot, and it has been faithful enough so far. Fran lived by the lake in the woods, and I visited her everyday. Of course, the people were too ignorant to listen so I left, across the island far away from anyone else. Needless to say, I couldn’t sit around forever so I went to other islands. Met other dragons and wrote The Book, learned so much. But more importantly, I met people with the same ideals I had.”

Tommy perked up, “There are others?”

“Of course. L’Manberg seems to be one of the few places in the Archipelago that is still shrouded in beliefs of the past, at least to such a harsh degree,” Sam paused and stroked his chin, “I met a very interesting person on my travels, they were one of the friendliest people I met on my travels, one night in a tavern and they caught my eye. After some talking, we realised how alike we are, in more ways than one. He accompanied me on my travels after that.”

“Who was he?” Tommy asked, as Sam clearly cared a lot about this person.”

“His name was Ponk. They were a merchant for a while, often selling fruit and plants but then became a doctor. He taught me how to treat dragons; in fact, he also had a dragon companion, like I did with Fran.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it was a Slitherwing he named Lemon. Fran and he were quite good friends, as were I and Ponk,” Sam explained and rubbed his knuckles, “Not everything could be so good, though. Bandits were becoming increasingly more common, and we weren’t able to have our dragons so close to us anymore. I wanted to return here and lay low for a while, but Ponk claimed that this island was one of the worst. We argued, and he left, claiming he would be back when he was either done with his work or I knew what was best. They haven’t written back my letters in years.”

They sat in silence and Fran made a low sighing sound, emanating the feeling that everyone felt.

“Did—did they not come back? Did you not look for them?”

“I had no leads. Me and Fran searched every island on our map; he is nowhere to be found. Not yet at least. Instead, I stuck around here and kept as low as a profile as I could. I had to keep Fran in this cave most days in case anyone came—like you. I didn’t want to tell you about her because of your reaction. I guess I was right.”

“I—I was scared! I forgot everything because I was unarmoured, unequipped and unexpecting there to be a dragon in these caves,” Tommy justified and manoeuvred onto his knees. Sam was silent before he spoke.

“You know, I have to take regular fishing trips to get her food, because even hunting is dangerous. If someone saw Fran flying around, or even walking—like when you saw that Triple Stryke—she would be immediately hunted,” he stroked the dragon’s muzzle, “I always thought about letting her go; off into the wild to be free and live a happier life. But she never wanted to go—I domesticated her for too long. Like keeping pigeons and when you let them out, they always come back because it’s what they were trained to do, because they are used to it.”

Tommy looked into Sam’s eyes. They were tired and heartbroken and a little bit angry. Tommy looked into the eyes of Fran. They were comforting and gentle and concerned for her master. They were eyes that reminded Tommy of the Triple Stryke; eyes that held no violence towards people like him.

“Don’t you ever think it’s because she cares about you?” Tommy asked and Sam frowned, but not in a disapproving way.

“Of course. It’s just…hard to be the reason that someone leaves and someone stays,” he murmured and then turned to Tommy, running a hand through his ivy green hair, “Why did you come today, Tommy?”

“I always come,” Tommy said quickly, and stifled a laugh.

“But there was a reason—different time, different place, different attitude. The cave?”

“It was raining—”

“Then wait under the porch.”

“I was—” Tommy fumbled with his words, wondering why he should tell Sam of what happened with his friends, “—I had a bad argument with my friends. Really bad. I came to leave.”

“Leave them behind?”

“Yeah…maybe, I don’t know,” Tommy huffed, playing with the strings of his cloak.

“Why?” Sam asked and Tommy faced him.

“I just said, we had a bad fight—”

“Then make up with them.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Why?”

“I dunno, it just is!” Tommy shouted, standing up, “I can’t explain it because you don’t know them, you don’t really know me! My problems are my own, but I came to get away from them because everything’s changed, including me. I…I just want serenity.”

They sat in silence, even Fran was quiet and staring to the floor. Sam stood up, meeting Tommy eye to eye. He handed him his bag.

“Tommy—go back to your family. Reconcile with them. Listen to them. Make them know you care, but don’t let them know what you do. Pretend, if you have to, if it makes things easier.” Sam placed his hand on his shoulder, leaned forward and whispered to his ear.

“Talk less. Smile more. Don’t let them know what you’re against, or what you’re for.”

Chapter Text

Tommy returned home later three hours after Sam had given him advice. The storm continued, but Tommy would not stop for a bit of rain. He had to prove he would get home, no matter what. Mud lashed against his horse’s hooves and flicked up to his leg, rain ever continuing to fall and thunder to rumble. The sky had never looked as dark, at least to Tommy.

When he finally made it home, metal covers had been thrown over everything without a roof, and even over things that did. Tommy shut Juorse in his stable, pushing crates together in order to make a shelter of some sorts for the creature. He headed into the house, having to push the door several times before it opened. It was empty.

The floor was cold and drip, drip, dripping with condensation and a leak was leading water into the house from the roof. Tommy looked around, took a quick peep upstairs and then moved the carpet by the couch. A small handle was attached to a piece of wood that had small gaps around it. Tommy pulled the handle and the trap door lifted up, revealing a descending passage with stone walls and a rickety ladder. He pushed it all the way open before descending down the ladder, grabbing the bottom of the door and closing it.

It was not full darkness; a torch in the distance signalled some light and life down in the hole. The ladder creaked as Tommy traversed down it, made only of a thin type of wood.

It didn’t take long for him to reach the stone, cold floor.

The cellar was a few feet underground, and a few feet wide of a room. Cold stone walls stuck out and the ceiling could be touched by Tommy’s head. It had only been commissioned for terribly bad storms that came through once or twice a year—just like this one. Barrels stood squashed into corners and a rack that was meant for liquor stood empty on the wall. It wasn’t that they had all been used, only that there never was any in the first place.

Tommy turned around after climbing down off of the ladder and saw Tubbo and Ranboo huddled in a corner. They had assortments of food—mostly scraps they had left over—sheets and literature surrounding them, wrapped in blankets made of yak fur. Tubbo was sorting the food and Ranboo was folding the sheets.

Tommy got closer to them and only Ranboo looked up, smiling joyfully at his arrival. He leapt up and paced over to Tommy, throwing his arms around him. Tommy smiled at the comfort.

“I’m. Glad. That. You’re. Safe,” Ranboo said, “This. Storm. Seems. Terrible. We. Haven’t. Had. One. Like. It. In. Ages.”

There was only silence even as Ranboo conversed with him, so Tubbo looked up slightly when Tommy spoke.

“Yeah, it all turned pretty shit as soon as I went,” Tommy agreed and pulled out the bag he had been keeping under his shirt, to keep it dry, “I got something for you both. An apology, really. And something to enjoy in this storm.”

Tommy passed the bag to Ranboo, who opened it and his eyes widened. He turned quickly and passed it to Tubbo to look at, his eyes wide and his mouth too.

“You. Got. Us. Pastries?!” Ranboo asked, clearly overjoyed, “Fresh. Ones. Too?”

“Of course, you can see them right there!” Tommy exclaimed as Ranboo bombarded into him, arms wide. He caught a slight smile from Tubbo as he removed the food from the bag, placing them next to the other bits they had. They looked like nothing next to Tommy’s gift, and rightfully so. Sam had been generous enough to give them to Tommy before he left.

“These’ll make anyone cheer up in a second,” he had said before Tommy left, “Just make sure they’re happy, and the reward will be gracious.”

So Tommy had just the mind to do that. Make his friends be his friends again, and this time make it joyous. It wasn’t so hard with Ranboo; he could accept any apology as long as it meant the air was clear from venom again. Tubbo was harder, but in the end he got round to it.

Tubbo stood to meet Tommy’s eyes, having to look up at him to do so. He folded his arms and made his face blank. Ranboo paused his excitement for the moment, his stomach starting to feel tense. Tommy didn’t wait for the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, far quicker than Tubbo anticipated, “I…I shouldn’t have pushed you, and then ran away like a coward. I just—I didn’t know why…” Tommy’s tone got quieter as he spoke on. He didn’t like apologising for something he didn’t do, but he remembered Sam’s words.

Talk less. Smile more. Don’t let them know what you’re against, or what you’re for.

Tubbo unclenched his fists and sighed. He always gave in easily. He walked over to Tommy and pulled him into a warm embrace.

“Just don’t run off in the middle of a storm again,” he muttered and pulled himself away, back to his shelter of food, “Where did you get these from anyway?”

Tommy paused. What was his lie again?

“Um…is the right answer to say I mysteriously found them?” he asked hopefully. Tubbo remained sullen and turned his head slightly. They all knew where he had gotten them from.

Talk less. Smile more.

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Ranboo remembered when Tubbo used to smile. When he was as bright as the sun, as buzzy as a bee. He remembered when he always used to speak; he could go on for hours without anyone stopping him. He remembered when they would all play together, and the only ones stopping them were each other.

Ranboo remembered when Tubbo stopped smiling. He remembered the start of the fights, of the screaming, of slamming doors. He remembered thinking it was all going to start again. He remembered thinking one day one of them would leave, and the other would get bored of him, tired of him, and send him away. He remembered how every creaky step made his heart leap at night.

Ranboo remembered how Tubbo looked drained every night he came home. How he always had cuts on his fingers, bags under his eyes, eyes that seemed blank from noise and arguments. He remembered how Tubbo tried his hardest to impress Schlatt at the armoury, always trying the best to be the perfect son. He remembered how Tommy never understood any of that, and that it was Ranboo’s job to understand how everyone felt because he could use his eyes to see it.

Ranboo remembered how he got roped into working, how he started to feel tired, how he started to bleed at his fingers, how he started to lose sight of his understanding.

Ranboo didn’t remember when he stopped smiling. But he did remember why.

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The storm raged on for a day or two, wrecking everything in its path. A few minor damages were caused, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed. After that, Tommy followed Sam’s advice very well, and it worked in his favour.

Talk less. Smile more. Don’t let them know what you’re against, or what you’re for.

He sat quietly when Tubbo or Ranboo spoke, not interrupting or arguing. He smiled when they did something good or shared a joke. He kept his tongue to himself when they spoke about certain things. Sure, he wanted to protest, but that would just lead to another argument.

Since he held his tongue about other things, Tubbo kept his about his visits to Sam. Tubbo wondered why he always went, why he saw someone that everyone else considered an outcast. He supposed it was only something that Tommy would do. He never persisted him about it, though. He only ever watched behind buzzing eyes.

Tommy felt he could talk more AND smile more when he was with Sam. It seemed the man could finally talk about a subject of his teaching he had held off before; dragon training.

“They can be trained?” Tommy had asked.

“Of course they can. Tell me, how do you get a horse used to being ridden.”

“You break it in.”

“Exactly. You do the same with dragons. You persist at trying until they eventually submit. Breaking their back in, you could say for riding, but that sounds a bit morbid doesn’t it. How do you think I trained Fran?”

“I dunno, I just thought she was naturally friendly.”

Sam laughed, “What, from taking my leg to belly rubs? No, she was a hard one, but I manage to make anyone get going eventually.”

Tommy was taught how to approach dragons, how to clamber onto them, how to compel them. It seemed he had taken a step for the better when he entered that cave one miserable afternoon.

---------------------------------------

He still caught up with Wilbur, too. Though the boys still learnt guitar, they did other things too. Exploring the mountains, beaches, caves. Niki came along frequently, something Tommy didn’t mind at all.

One day, he met up with Wilbur by his usual schedule and found the boy singing to himself, melody included.

“And I can still smell her perfume,
Did it rub off on you?
You say your ex-boyfriend is a soldier,
Well, I say you need better standards.
You say your ex-boyfriend is a soldier,
I say you need better standards!
It seems like all our friends,
Abruptly fell in love.
And she was in the dust,
Darling, life was streaming past.
So she learnt to lie,
She learnt how to pretend.
A drama in the futile,
A means to an end.”/p>

Wilbur looked up as Tommy approached, eyes wide and impressed.

“Hello Tommy.”

“That was sick!” Tommy exclaimed, “Was that yours?”

Wilbur grinned, “I’ve been working on it for a few days now,” he frowned slightly, “I can’t seem to make it fit, though. I’ll probably end up scrapping it, like the dozens of other songs I’ve scrapped. Shame too, I’d just come up with a name for it.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, “What duje mean, scrapped?”

“Like, get rid of. I won’t play it anymore.”

“Oh no, no, no; you are not scrapping that. That might just be my favourite Wilbur Soot original!” Tommy cried.

“You mean it?”

“Of course! If you scrap it, I’ll be very sad indeed,” Tommy folded his arms, “And you won’t like it when I’m sad. I’ll be worse than bananas.”

Wilbur giggled, slapping his leg and tilting his head back. He pulled out a small notebook and scribbled in it, “That’s going in the Quote Book.”

The Quote Book was a small collection of quotes that Tommy had said during his time with Wilbur that were strange or made Wilbur laugh. Tommy didn’t quite understand it himself, but it made Wilbur happy. A thought popped into Tommy’s mind.

“Hey Wil?” Tommy started, “Does that first song you taught me have a name?”

“Sure it does. Most compositions do.”

“What’s it called, then?”

“Mellohi.”

Tommy paused and then smiled slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“That’s a nice name.”

“Why’d you ask?” Wilbur questioned curiously, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“I just wondered,” he lingered for a moment and then turned to look at Wilbur, “I might just consider it my favourite song, y’know? It’s how we became mates, after all.”

“Aww, that’s cute."

“DON’T CALL ME CUTE, YOU FUCKER!!” There might’ve been a few clawings after that. Mainly from Tommy. But who's counting?

---------------------------------------

After months of living a life he felt moderately comfortable with, Tommy decided about going away from it. He wanted to go back to the lake.

He hadn’t been for a while, only if Wilbur and Niki were with him, which wasn't that often since they went to a lot of other places now. There was nobody really stopping him except himself. He wanted to go and see the dragon, but that would only cause him to obsess over it again. But if he went and it wasn’t there, it would make him annoyed again.

So on his daily journey to Sam’s, Tommy stopped at a crossroads and pulled at the reigns of Juorse. Did he go on to Sam’s, or to the lake?

He ended up choosing the wrong option and chose right. Tommy couldn’t help it; some part of him was still clinging to the Triple Stryke. After all, if it wasn’t for it, he never would’ve been where he was now.

The path made Tommy reminiscent of his younger days, which were only really a few months ago. Tall trees made a ceiling in the sky and a slightly green haze filled the air. The only thing that had changed was Tommy.

When he saw the crater that housed the lake, Tommy kicked at Juorse to make him go into a canter, and they moved quicker. Tommy pulled the reigns at the edge of the crater and leapt of off Juorse. He didn’t even think about tying him up.

Tommy ducked under a log placed between two large stones and then he was in. The lake glistened with spring water, the sun leering down on it to make it sparkle. The hills shook with fresh grass and rocks stood unopposed by anyone else.

A grin painted on Tommy’s face as he took in the place he once considered his second home. And then he looked down. Down to the middle of the crater. His smile dropped off and he gagged on air.

Lying down next to the lake—so far out of reach—was the Triple Stryke. Only this time, it was unconscious, quivering and bleeding lakes of blood from its legs.

Tommy felt sick.

Chapter Text

Tommy found himself moving towards it before it barely met his eyes. A small knot in the ground made him tumble but Tommy only picked himself up with a determined push.

He raced towards the dragon and stopped when he was near. The amount of blood pooled around its legs looked to be enough to fill five barrels. Tommy gagged and pulled himself away from its legs to its eyes. They were closed but tensed. Tommy placed a hand on its side, cold scales filling his grip.

“Oh shit, what do I do?” he thought, his leg starting to quiver, “Oh fuck! This is really fucking bad!”

Tommy paced around, his sight never leaving the dragon. There was nothing that he could do for it alone; he was no medic. He had no experience with wounds.

Sam.

Tommy stopped pacing and gave a longing glance at the dragon. If he left for hours, the beast might be dead when he returned. Biting his lip, Tommy ran furiously to the over side of the crater. He moved as quickly as he could to his horse, then jumped up and kicked the sides.

“Go, c’mon, go!” he shouted and the horse reared back, moving forwards in the fastest pace he could get. Tommy hoped that it would be enough.

----------------------------------------

Tommy arrived at Sam’s cottage faster than he thought it would take. As soon as he saw it, he jumped down from his horse and ran straight to the door, his chest rising quickly from his breath.

“SAM!” he shouted, banging loudly at the door, “SAM, PLEASE!”

The door opened and Sam’s head popped out from behind it.

“Tommy? What—”

“Sam, please, I…I need your help, please!”

“Calm down,” Sam said calmly, placing his hands on Tommy’s shoulders, “What is the matter?”

Tommy realised how fast he was breathing and twitching. He took a deep breath and looked Sam straight in the eyes heatedly.

“There….there’s a dragon—the same one I saw. It’s…it’s bleeding out bad and I can’t do anything for it and it’s going to fucking die and it’ll be all my fault and I’m utterly fucking useless—"

“Tommy!” Sam cried, his grip tensing, “Where is this dragon?”

“At the lake.”

“Shit…” Sam muttered and pushed past Tommy, walking behind his house. Tommy watched.

“What’re you—”

“Get the green bag in my house by the door. Quickly, Tommy!”

Tommy ran inside and scanned the house quickly. It looked as clean as ever. He suddenly caught sight of a green bag with a white cross on it by the door and snatched it.
He sprinted outside and was nearly jumpscared by Fran, who had appeared by the door and seemed even bigger outside than she did in. Sam was attaching a large, brown, leather object to her back—a saddle. When he was done, Sam stepped onto her back and tilted his head at Tommy.

“Get on.”

“What?”

“C’mon Tommy, just get on!”

Tommy didn’t hesitate again, moving not slowly but cautiously towards Sam. He held his hand out to Tommy and he grabbed it, being pulled up on top of the dragon. He sat down, the feeling slightly harder than it would be sitting atop any other animal.

“Hold onto that bag, yeah? And me, if you want.”

“What’re you—” Tommy started but was then cut off as Fran lifted off of the ground. Tommy gasped, clinging onto Sam’s back. They were going to fly.

Suddenly, Tommy was soaring through the air quickly. He cried aloud and closed his eyes. He didn’t know if they were high in the sky or sticking to the ground, but they were moving quickly, quicker than any horse could move. Tommy opened one eye and his vision felt as if he was being continuously spun around. He felt sick, even more when he imagined the dragon at the lake. It’s legs crimson and drip, drip, dripping with blood.

Air slashed against Tommy’s face and he squeezed at Sam’s sides.

“Hang in there Tommy,” Sam said over the wind and Tommy scrunched his eyes closed. Eventually, the rushing feeling stopped and Tommy felt his body stop shaking. He peered one eye open and then looked around. They were in the crater. Fran rumbled and pushed at him with her wings and Tommy stepped off of her.

Sam was already off, kneeling next to the Triple Stryke. It looked even weaker and redder than before; its legs looked thin.

“Hand me the bag, Tommy,” Sam said softly and Tommy moved over to him, careful to not step in any blood. Sam’s knees were drenched with it, but he didn’t seem to care. He pulled out a syringe from his bag and held it in front of Fran.

“Just a low flame, girl,” he said. Fran gurgled and Tommy gasped as a low, orange fire came from her mouth and covered the syringe. Sam held up his hand a few seconds after and Fran stopped, stomping away to the lake. Sam put his hand into the bag again and extracted a liquid that was held in a tube. He poured some of the liquid into the syringe, shook it around and then pressed it into the Triple Stryke’s leg.

“That should stop the bleeding,” Sam explained as he turned back to Tommy. He pulled out a cloth from his bag and Tommy felt Fran's footsteps as she come back. She opened her mouth over the cloth and water spilled out, presumably from the lake. Tommy tilted his head in confusion. Sam then shook the cloth a bit and then wiped it over the dragon’s leg, wiping away any blood that was still hanging around. He placed his hand on the wing.

“This dragon is extremely weak, and especially injured. I have more equipment at my house for it. Fran, I’ll need you to carry him.”

The Rumblehorn did what looked like a nod and crouched down as Sam climbed back on top of her back. Sam held out a hand to Tommy, who grabbed it and was pulled up.

“God, we’re not flying again are we?” Tommy groaned. Sam gave him an incredulous look and Tommy shut his mouth. Fran lifted off of the ground, and Tommy was able to keep his eyes open for longer. She hovered over the Triple Stryke, her claws wrapping around its body and wings. Once her grip was secure, they went to a higher distance and a faster pace.

With his eyes open, Tommy realised why their journey was only short, with Fran’s flying pace being very fast and the distance from the sky was not very far. He also realised that he loved flying. The soaring through the air, the clouds just a grasp away, the way you seemed entirely and utterly free. It was enough to make anyone giggle with joy. If it wasn’t for the dying dragon underneath him, Tommy might’ve considered it one of his favourite memories.

Tommy looked down at the Triple Stryke, making him sick in two ways. It looked weak, and fragile. He didn’t know how Sam was going to fix it. But he would, of course he would. Sam knew dragons.

They landed a few ten minutes later, Fran carefully placing the Triple Stryke down before dropping to the ground. Tommy jumped off before Sam could, placing a hand on the Triple Stryke. It didn’t move, only to breathe slightly and twitch its eyes.

“We’ll have to get him to the cave; Fran, I need him on your back.”

When they managed to get the Triple Stryke on Fran’s back, Sam told Tommy to take them to the cave while he fetched his things inside the house. Tommy felt like he didn’t need to guide Fran through the network of tunnels, so he stood by her side and watched the dragon on top.

They got to the cave where Tommy had first met Fran, and helped her place the Triple Stryke down. Tommy stroked the scales on it’s back gently, the wound on its legs still bright and raw.

Sam arrived in a matter of minutes, carrying a larger bag than before and setting it down next to the dragon, getting to his knees and pulling out various tools. All Tommy could do was watch helplessly as he worked, the only thought in his mind was of the dragon’s safety.

----------------------------------------

Tommy must’ve fell asleep because someone was shaking him and he was opening his eyes.

“Hmmm?” Tommy grumbled, his vision getting brighter. Sam was kneeling over him with a soft smile.

“You had a bit of a kip while I was working,” Sam explained and Tommy sat up, a blanket falling of off his back. A small pillow sat where his head had been. His stomach churned at the kindness. Then he remembered.

He turned to look at the dragon, giving himself whiplash. It was sleeping soundly, looking more peaceful than it had been before.

“He’s fine,” Sam assured, “I may have given him something to make him sleep for a bit, so he might not wake up for a couple of days, especially with the antidotes I had to give for the wounds.”

Tommy nodded, crawling over towards the dragon and placing a hand on it’s cold, scaly back. It sighed up and then down, a continuing rhythm that nearly lulled Tommy back to sleep.

“It’s male, then?” Tommy asked and Sam nodded, “Guess I didn’t really think about it.”

He picked up the blanket that sat around his back and cloaked it over the dragon’s back. It was much too small for him, but Tommy couldn’t help feeling a warm care in his heart.

“It’s getting pretty late; you should probably head back in case someone worries.” Tommy’s face turned to stone.

“I’m not leaving him.”

“I can take care of him for now, and you can come straight back everyday. I don’t want you to have problems with Tubbo again.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Tommy growled, this time louder.

“Tommy—”

“I’m not just going to leave him here Sam! I found him first, he’s my responsibility and my dragon! What if I left and he—” Tommy choked on his words and looked to the floor. Sam put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry; I’ll be here looking after him—I promise I will make sure tis dragon is fine. I just want you to go home, relax after a stressful day, and make sure Tubbo knows that you’re safe.”

“Can’t I just send him a message?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, “How are you going to do that?”

“I dunno, don’t you keep pigeons?”

Sam laughed and ruffled his hair. Tommy noticed the cracks in his fingers and blood under his nails but decided not to tell him to take better care of himself, as much as Tommy would like to.

“I can get Fran to take you home, if you want to get there quicker.”

“I thought that you were supposed to keep her away from the open; what if someone sees her,” Tommy demanded, his eyes narrowed.

“She hasn’t been flying for so long, not before today. Besides, I think she knows how to hide, and if it gets darker it will be easier to stick to the clouds.”

“As long as it’s alright with you.”

So that was how Tommy found himself riding a 1000lb Rumblehorn in the clouds, trusting Fran on her direction and flight considering she was the one with wings. He held on as tight as he could but still enjoyed the ride, wind billowing through his hair and clothes. It was the most freeing feeling. Freeing apart from the fact he kept worrying about the Triple Stryke. But he would be okay—Sam had promised.

Over the next few days; Tommy practically lived in that cave. He left in the early mornings and arrived back home around sixish. Sam never let him stay for dinner. His friends never questioned it, as they saw the pained look in his eyes when he left and he returned.

He would sit by the dragon’s side, stroking its scales as Sam nursed it back to health. Occasionally—when Sam left for fishing—Tommy would check the wound and change the bandages. It seemed to be healing to a scar; Sam had done his work fairly well. After all, nothing could heal scars.

One day, Tommy was sitting by the dragon’s side with Sam, a fire in the centre of the cave to give the dragon warmth, and the man began to speak.

“You got any ideas for a name?” Sam asked and Tommy turned to him.

“What?”

“Do you have any ideas for a name for him?”

Tommy thought for a moment, looking at the sleeping beast before shaking his head with a glum smile.

“No, but I shouldn’t anyway. If you give something a name, you get attached. And I don’t want this dragon to be anywhere near my problems.”

“That’s not always the case,” Sam counteracted, “You can get attached without a name—and I think you already have.”

Tommy turned still, and Sam placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You can make your decisions, but whatever you chose to do, I’m sure this dragon will be forever grateful to you when it wakes.”

Tommy looked into the swirling flame and pulled his knees up to his chin. He hadn’t seen those daring purple eyes in months.

-----------------------------------------

On one of the days, Tommy came home and found Wilbur sitting by the wall. He remembered they hadn’t hung out in a while. Wilbur saw him approach and jumped down from the wall with a smile.

“Alright Tommy?”

“Alright Wil.”

Wilbur scratched at his neck and looked at the bags under Tommy’s eyes

“So…where’ve you been this last week. I haven’t seen you once. I waited for a couple hours each night, until I gave up.”

Tommy looked to the floor guilty, “Sorry Wil; I’ve had to deal with some stuff. Took a while, and it’ll take a while longer too.”

“That’s alright. I guess I can’t keep you to myself. But, speaking of, how about you have dinner with me in the Great Hall. Kind of hypocritic with what I just said, but I’m hungry.”

“Is that where you always eat?” Tommy asked, to tired to notice he was being blunt, and that Wilbur flinched.

“Mostly, yeah. My father doesn’t really spend a lot of time at home, and if he does he stays in his office. That’s why I’m always out and about,” Wilbur blushed and Tommy suddenly felt rude for prying; he’d never heard much about Wilbur’s life, or his relationship with his father, “Even at Snoggletog he stays in the Great Hall. He only ever eats at home when Techno is here.”

Goosebumps ran down Tommy’s skin at the mention of The Blade. He’d never heard anyone call him Techno, only ever Technoblade if they were being formal and knew him slightly.

“I’ll come,” Tommy stated, “It’s been a while since I’ve had decent food. Let me just go and tell Tubbo and Ranboo.”

When Tommy did tell Tubbo, he gave him a quick eyebrow raise and then a nod. Ranboo gave him a thumbs up. Tommy asked if they would like to join him, but Tubbo responded with a no quite quickly. Ranboo only shook his head sadly, and Tommy wondered if he did want to go but didn’t want to leave Tubbo.

Wilbur stood leaned against a wooden frame, twisting his pick through his fingers. He turned on Tommy’s arrival and smiled.

“Ready to go?”

Tommy nodded and they walked, soon transitioning into the lovable banter they had had when they used to hang out. Soon they were at the incredulously tall doors and Wilbur pushed one open, not being very heavy despite it’s size. Tommy’s vision adjusted as he stepped inside.

Walls made of stone probably chiselled on the hall’s building encompassed the room, miles from each other. Torches were spread feet apart, hundreds on a wall and made the room own a brown-orange hazy light. Stone pillars stood every few feet or so and fireplaces opposite them, attached to the walls. Benches and tables as long as reticulated pythons were placed in most spaces of the room, food dropped onto each one, and long columns of gaps were spaced between each one. At the end of the room, close to the back wall, was the Council’s table. One long table stood on a stone platform a few inches off of the ground and large baskets of fire hung behind it. Glorious food—better than on the other tables—was laid out along it, though most of it probably wouldn’t be eaten as most of the members wouldn’t eat today. The middle of the table housed a chair reminiscent of a throne, one small emerald embedded into the centre of it.

Lots of people were already in the hall, standing or sitting at different locations, mugs in hand and laughs echoed throughout the hall. Only about six Council Members—out of thirty-four—were present at the table and none of them were in the middle seat, instead choosing to speak over it.

Wilbur nudged Tommy to wake him from his trance and tilted his head to the rest of the hall. They walked forth, Wilbur choosing for them to sit at a table near the corner of the room, close to a fireplace and secluded from people. Wilbur sat one side and Tommy the other, who was soon grabbing as much food as he could fit on his plate or in his mouth. Wilbur laughed.

They continued witty banter and squabbles for the rest of the evening, Tommy laughing or swearing at him. Wilbur didn’t let Tommy drink from the mugs on the tablet though, much to his dismay and cries. Tommy found himself to be the fullest he had ever been, remembering to keep in mind to come here again but with Tubbo and Ranboo. If they had known that the village provided this much food for free, they would’ve come here everyday.

Then the night decided to poke at his eyes.

Two men, who were sat behind Wilbur, had gathered a crowd around them and spoke at a pitch that made everyone heard what they wanted to say even when no one else desired to listen to it.

“We did find something, didn’t we?” one asked the other, two grins on their faces. He stroked his beard and drank from his mug. The other spun a knife on the table, his hands over the grip. Tommy didn’t like the way he looked.

“Yes indeed; we found a dragon.”

A cry of awe fell over the crowd and Tommy looked to his plate, his fingers clenching into fists around his fork. He saw Wilbur had stopped speaking and was listening to the men too, but his eyes were only on Tommy.

“Ha, found is a bit more of a vague word, isn’t it. Presumes we just looked at it. Caught is a better one.

“Get off it—you caught a dragon?” someone asked in unbelief. He nodded.

“Didn’t want to say anything in case we got it’s head for a surprise. We DID have it, only the fucking thing ran off. It was just sittin’ there too, waiting dumbly by the lake. Couldn’t get very far with those dodgy legs though. Could’ve sworn I went right through the bone; I AM a decent shot. Tried to find it for a while, but it must’ve flown off and drowned in the ocean, what with flyin’ an’ all. Weird little thing—it had three tails…”

“It’s just common sense, really,” the quieter man said, “Any man who sees a beast should dispose of it, if he has any honour for himself and his people.”

His eyes moved over to Tommy, maybe through curiosity of the room but Tommy felt targeted. Tommy felt scared. Tommy felt sick. His eyes twitched and if he didn’t have any resistance, he’d go over to them and knock them both over. He deafened the two men in his head and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to relax.

“Tommy, are you alright?” Wilbur asked, and Tommy realised he was standing. He sat down and sat in a ball on the bench.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” Tommy mumbled and Wilbur turned to look at the men before turning around. His face was one of confusion and care.

“Is it what they were on about?”

“Leave it alone Wilbur.”

“But something has to be the matter—”

“I said leave it alone Wilbur!” Tommy shouted, his hands turning to fists and his legs started to bounce. He shot glares at the people who stared and eyed Wilbur.

“Don’t people have any remorse or morals for anything? Don’t they care for what they do? Is it really that stubborn for men to have to kill everything they see?” he shot in rage.

“It was only a dragon,” Wilbur whispered, not seeming to understand that everything he said just made Tommy angrier.

“What of it? Do you truly believe in your own values or the ones people told you to believe? If you only listen to the opinion of others, you will never understand a wider array of options and know what you truly think. They aren’t monsters,” Tommy said the last sentence quieter and sat in silence with Wilbur, the boy clearly trying to understand what Tommy meant when he could not break the wall that blocked his path. A figure approached the table, but Tommy didn’t look up.

“Hello Wil,” it said and something made Tommy flinch, “Who’s this?”

“Dad, this is Tommy,” Wilbur said and Tommy looked up slowly.

The figure before him had light blonde hair tucked behind a green-and-white bucket hat, straps dangling under his neck. A small emerald earring hung from his left ear. He wasn’t tall nor short and his eyes were blue but seemed to be blazing. He wore a long pine green robe that fell to the floor and the rest he wore was standard wear.

Eyes were most important to Tommy, and Philza’s seemed to pierce right through him.

“Hullo Tommy,” Phil said with a kind smile, something that made Wilbur flinch.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Tommy said politely, though that was the opposite to what he was thinking.

“The same from me. I’d love to chat, but I’m a busy Chief,” Phil said and walked away with no look at Wilbur. Tommy watched him go and when he looked back this time Wilbur was clenching his fork.

“Fucking no-good no show,” he hissed, throwing his fork down at the table, “Speaks more to a stranger than he does his own fucking son. Smiles more too.”

Wilbur looked with malice at his father, who was at the middle chair at the Council table. Tommy should’ve guessed it was his.

“I’m guessing you don’t like your dad, then,” Tommy said and Wilbur turned to him, maybe to say something snarky but stopped himself.

“Our relationship is polite at best, if he even has time to have a relationship. It’s not perfect unless I have a title and a matching earring,” Wilbur spat, “Twins, y’know, me and Techno, but there’s still favouritism. Guess I was always Mommy’s boy. Fat luck she’s the one to go.”

Tommy had only ever heard about the Chiefess’s death from others; how she was taken by a dragon the night his parents died and deemed to be dead. It was another death that made that night the worst the village had ever had. He remembered Sam saying something about her once.

“One of the kindest people in the village,” he had said, “Brought Phil to his senses when he had none. Once she was gone, he had no chance of being a good leader.”

Tommy didn’t want to pry any unwanted information out of Wilbur so he stayed quiet. It was Wilbur who asked the questions.

“Do you remember your mother?” he asked and Tommy did not expect it. He paused for a moment and then shook his head.

“No, not really, nor my father. When people bring them up, all I see is a silhouette with no face. I was only a few days old when they died. It was on the same day, wasn’t it?” Wilbur didn’t need to ask; he already understood.

“Yeah, the worst day we’ve ever seen as a village. So many deaths…I was eight when it happened. Me and Techno were asleep when Mother told us to get up. I could hear…so much screaming and roaring and smell the fire as it burned. By the time we got outside, bodies filled the streets and dragons filled the sky. It wasn’t long before—” he paused for a moment, hitching in a sound that Tommy thought was a sob but wouldn’t meet Wilbur’s eyes, “—before Mother was snatched. I’d never been so scared, or seen Techno scared like that. Father came, and by the way he looked at us, I think that was what made Techno want to fight. Want to kill. Want to never be scared again, or lose a fight he didn’t want to lose.”

Tommy didn’t know there was this side to Wilbur—or Technoblade. He’d never heard him described like this, as if he were just another person instead of The Blade.

“How did you know my parents died?”

“I can tell. Plus, you lived with Schlatt from infantry, and I don’t think anyone would choose to do that.”

Tommy clenched his fists, feeling a right to defend Schlatt.

“Schlatt happens to be a better carer than some,” he said and Wilbur stiffened, “He lets his façade down when he is with people he cares for, and lets up a guard of thorns to protect them.”

“I don’t doubt his skill, only his actions,” Wilbur said with no meaning, as though he was hiding something behind his mind. Now that Tommy thought about it, Schlatt and Phil had never had a good interaction, or even an interaction at all. It made sense that Wilbur thought negative of him. After all, if Tommy had been raised with tyrants instead of humble men, who would he be if not conceited.

--------------------------------------------

The next day, Tommy went to Sam’s and there was a note attached on the door:

‘T,
Gone fishing. Be back soon. Look after Three.
S.”

He looked at the note in confusion before realising that Sam had tried to be as elusive as possible when writing. He supposed ‘Three’ was the Triple Stryke. Tommy walked to the cave, taking a look over his shoulder as he did.

The cave seemed oddly quiet, and when Tommy walked to the centre Fran was nowhere to be seen.

“That’s odd,” he mumbled, walking further into the cave. She couldn’t be in the Triple Stryke’s cave, as Sam had said she shouldn’t in case it woke and thought Fran was an attacker.

*I supposed Sam could’ve taken her with him,* Tommy thought, *Though that defeats the purpose of going fishing at all.*

Sam had been getting increasingly more comfortable with letting Fran out in the open, much to Tommy’s dismay. Now he had put the thought in his head that someone could be around, Tommy didn’t like doing certain things without walls surrounding him.

Tommy walked into the deep cave and the stopped in his tracks. The Triple Stryke wasn’t there. He looked around frantically, running up and down both passages before clutching his head.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” he muttered anxiously before being lifted from the ground. Tommy shrieked in panic, swiping at the air—upside down—before being turned around and looking into deep, purple eyes.

“Hello,” Tommy whispered, no breath in his lungs as he froze. The Triple Stryke was holding him over the ground, observing him curiously, “Um, if you could put me down, that could be great.

The dragon tilted his head before dropping Tommy back to the ground, a thump as he landed.

“Oww… thanks a lot,” he mumbled and the dragon bared his teeth, but in a smiling sort of way. Tommy laughed; he couldn’t believe he was talking to a dragon of all things.

“Where were you even hiding?” he pondered and then looked up and saw claw marks on the ceiling. The Triple Stryke considered him and his poked him with its tail.

“Hey, watch that! One false swipe and I’m dead!” Tommy said a bit louder and the dragon went to do it again, but Tommy dodged, “Look, I need to check your bandages. You shouldn’t be jumping around like that on your injured legs!”

He went to near the dragon but it moved out of his reach. Tommy frowned and tried again, but it moved. The Triple Stryke made a sound that sounded like laughing but also someone gasping for air.

“Shut up!” Tommy snapped but smiled dumbly, not processing that he was arguing with a dragon, of all things.

“Well, now I know why you two get on so well,” someone said and Tommy turned as Sam entered, hauling a sack that smelt like fish over his back. The Triple Stryke sniffed at it furiously. Sam placed the sack in front of him and he started to eat—Sam messing with his bandages as he did so.

“Why?” Tommy asked.

“You happen to be the same age, give or take a few dragon months.”

“He’s the same age as me?” Tommy pondered and the grinned, “No wonder he’s so mischievous. How can you tell?”

Sam smiled, “Takes a lot of time and wisdom to know something like that, Tommy-my-boy! Something that can’t be taught, I’m afraid. Take’s a keen eye.”

Tommy wanted to tell Sam he knew all about eyes, but held off.

“You know, these past few days, I’ve been thinking about what you said, about names and attachment, and you’re right. I care so much about this dragon, and I haven’t even needed a name for it. Every night I dream about him and he stalks my every thought, I can’t even have a nice dinner without two pricks ruining it and him coming into my thoughts. And, this might sound strange, I think he cares for me too,” he looked Sam in the eyes. “I want to learn how to ride him. Properly.”

Chapter Text

When Tommy woke the a few mornings after, Ranboo was waiting for him. He was putting on his shoes and the boy approached, rubbing his fingers together in a way that told Tommy he wanted to talk.

“What’s up Ranboo?” he asked.

“I. Just. Wanted. To. Ask. It’s. Been. Plaguing. Me. For. A. Bit. And. No-one. Likes. To. Give. Full. Answers.”

“Spill.”

“Why. Do. You. Go. To. Sam’s. Everyday?” Ranboo asked and Tommy paused.

There were a number of options he could do with Ranboo—more than he could with Tubbo. He could walk out. He could lie and make up a story that would satisfy him and leave him content. Or, he could make a version of the truth. There was no way he was telling Ranboo the truth; he might’ve ben the passive one of the group but he wouldn’t like Tommy’s new activities anymore than anyone else. And Ranboo would certainly tell Tubbo if something wasn’t right.”

“I’m……Sam’s apprentice,” Tommy drawled and regretted his sentence as soon as it left his mouth. Ranboo narrowed his eyes.

“His—” he stooped, his face contorting in confusion. Then, he pointed his index finger from his mouth, spun his fists around and then pointed his index finger from his forehead. Tommy realised that he didn’t have a word for apprentice.

“Is that your word for it?” he asked and Ranboo nodded. Tommy gave a small smile, “Be sure to teach that to Tubbo. Anyway, to answer your question—yeah…”

“Why?”

“I dunno; he just has so much knowledge that I couldn’t learn anywhere else, and I find it interesting, he knows a lot. To be honest, we don’t get to learn a lot do we? We read and write by ourselves and any facts we know are spread through rumours we overhear. It’d be good if someone made a sort of learning centre you could go for a couple hours…” he drifted off, “…but Sam is a good man; he’s nothing like people say. He’s kind and thoughtful, and not at all crazy. He’s a good role model, a type of guy you don’t find many of. Besides, I like working with him.”

Ranboo looked down slightly, in an emotion Tommy couldn’t understand, “Not. Even. A. Guy. Like. Schlatt? What. About. The. Armoury?”

“To be honest, Ranboo, I wasn’t made for making weapons. I was made for making ideas and speeches, making men into poets and beasts into domesticated mounts. Besides, I’m sure Schlatt would rather have two so—people, working in his shop that can actually do the job to his needs. Two people he can rely on instead of someone who wishes to join his mind in the clouds,” Tommy declared, finding it easier to speak to someone who could not recite his words, “And he is a good man, in some qualities.” They stood in silence for a while, the only noise Tubbo’s snores in a room next door.

“Should. I. Tell. Tubbo?”

Tommy stopped himself from scowling. Why was Tubbo’s knowings be the first thing that should be attended to, when he had just delivered a part of himself through words for Ranboo to understand? Or maybe Ranboo was angry because Tommy hadn’t declared them all saints?

“Tell him if you wish. I have no care to influence your decisions,” Tommy said and with that, he picked up his cloak from the hook and departed from the room via the door. Ranboo stood aimlessly in the room, clenching his fists in defeat. He still hadn’t got the conversation nor the answer he wanted. Only another room left in a storm and another person left abandoned.

-----------------------------------------

When Ranboo told Tubbo later, the one thing he did not expect at all to happen was for Tubbo to laugh. He pulled a puzzled face as Tubbo chuckled.

“Apprentice, golly gosh! I wish I could see what they got up to,” he said—his smile not at all one of kindness, more of mockery—and turned to Ranboo’s puzzlement, “It’s Sam and Tommy. Sam, one of the weirdest people on the island and Tommy, one of the naivest. Anything he says to him will butter him up and make him shed. I wonder what they do?”

“What. Did. Sam. Ever. Do? Tommy. Practically. Called. Him. Genius.”

“Don’t you know what they say about him?” Ranboo shook his head, “He’s a dragon tamer; believes them to be peaceful creatures to befriend and not violent beasts to slaughter.”

Ranboo didn’t really have an opinion on dragons, not to such a heavy extent. They burnt down towns and killed innocents, but they didn’t do a lot to him. And as much as he wasn’t fond of them, he wouldn’t like the whole species to go extinct. That was genocide.

“He left because people belittled his ideals, and gave his shop to Schlatt. From one downcast to another.”

He said the last sentence bitterly, and Ranboo didn’t know what he meant.

“I mean, have see you seen Tommy recently? All out and no sleep, if you look at his eyes. And I thought that was his job… I mean, he hangs around with all sorts of people in town. The Chief’s son, for one.”

“The Blade?” Ranboo asked incredulously, imagining Tommy pending his afternoons with the profound killer.

“No, the other one. Wilbur something or other, I don’t remember,” Tubbo said, batting his hand, “God, The Blade is the last person Tommy would hang with. He’s either with him or that Niki girl, who isn’t bad at all to be honest.”

Ranboo had seen Niki before, seen her kindness up close when he first arrived. He didn’t think anyone could think bad of her.

“Point is, he’s taking steps, but doesn’t realise his staircase leads to a gorge.”

------------------------------------------

“So, your leg goes over and into the stirrup. You hold on to the bars, and pray your dragon trusts you,” Sam explained, pointing at the saddle he had on a frame.

Tommy had had to have lessons indoors about riding before practical lessons. He understood, of course, that the Triple Stryke still had to recover, but he thought that he might’ve been able to ride Fran since he had done multiple times already. The Triple Stryke had been confined to the cave, much to his dismay, and Tommy spent most time in there with the dragon.

Mostly, it would annoy Tommy and try to make him move after it, but sometimes they would sit and do what Sam called bonding. Getting closer and more trustworthy to each other. Once, Tommy had fallen asleep against it’s warm scales (that had increased in temperature after it recovered more) and when he awoke he found the dragon was also asleep, curled up beside him. It made his heart swell in his chest.

“Right,” Tommy nodded and stroked the leather saddle. One day, he would be sitting in it, on the back of—hopefully—the Triple Stryke, “And what do I do if I slip off of the bars?”

“You won’t, and if you even do I’m sure the dragon will catch you.”

“That’s a heavy assumption.”

“Well, if he even lets you ride him, there will be trust. Trusts that won’t let you fall off no matter how hard you try,” Sam said, and Tommy only realised how tired he looked. Not from lack of sleep, just tired. He flinched at the smallest of things and spaced out at random moments. In fact he was doing it now.

“Sam?” Tommy said and the man shook his head like he was coming out of hypnosis.

“Hmm? Oh, I was just thinking,” he paused, “Tommy, after the dragon recovers, I think you should take him back to the lake.”

“W-what?”

“Not to be released—unless that’s what you want. I just think it would be better for him to stay in the wild and not cooped up in a cave, especially with another dragon.”

“But the lake is where he was attacked,” Tommy said angrily, “Taking him back there would be leading a lamb to the slaughter. The people in the village already know.”

Sam rubbed his chin in his hands, “Just make sure he’s safe. He could live somewhere else on the island and come to the lake, as long as he isn’t here. That also means you shouldn’t come here either.”

“What? Sam, why are you saying all of this?” Tommy asked, his heart missing a beat. He was worried. Sam hesitated.

“I just—I’m worried.”

That wasn’t good.

“People are getting closer to the woods, and here. They’re doing more than they should, and my name seems to be getting passed around again, more than it should. If they found me and Fran, there would be trouble, but if they found you and the Triple Stryke too, something even worse could happen. I just want to keep you safe, and that might mean keeping away from me for a while.”

They sat in a stillness that was interrupted by only the whisper of the wind. Tommy met Sam’s eyes.

“I trust your judgement, Sam.”

--------------------------------------------

True to his word, Tommy trusted Sam, and what he told him to do. After a few more days, the Tripe Stryke was healthy and rearing to go. It held slash scars around it’s legs and Tommy sometime saw it stumble, but it never lost its energy.

Tommy lead the dragon to the lake after Sam deemed him well and it followed, with only a few minor interruptions. He didn’t know why it was so tame, when he was only a boy who happened to one day spot the creature from afar.

When they got to the lake, the dragon ran straight to the water and began to guzzle it down. Tommy slid down the hills into the crater and grinned at the dragon, who was watching the lake for fish.

And then the snap happened. It echoed in the distance.

Suddenly, it coiled it’s tails together, snapping them up towards the sky and tilted it’s head up. It growled and scanned the sky, a low clicking noise coming from its throat.

“Hey, what’s up?” Tommy asked but the Triple Stryke stepped towards the edge of the crater, poising it’s sharp pincer-like forelimbs as weapons. Then Tommy realised what was the matter. That snapping was the same one he always heard when the dragon was at the lake. It sounded as a signal for something he didn’t understand, but it drove the Triple Stryke away everytime. It scared him.

Something was hunting him.

“Hey, its okay,” Tommy said, moving towards the dragon but it moved away from him, this time it wasn’t playful. He glared towards him, circling the crater like a predator. He snapped his tails up like spears, clicking and clacking like dice on strings. Tommy still moved towards him, shuffling carefully. The Triple Stryke growled, narrowing his eyes as Tommy approached.

Taking a small breath, Tommy held his hand out towards the beast, then he turned away and closed his eyes in anticipation. For a moment, there was nothing, and then Tommy felt something press against his hand. He opened his eyes, and the dragon’s muzzle was in his palm. Tommy gasped a laugh and the dragon opened his eyes. They were purple and daring and bright. They studied Tommy, not like before when he had been a toy, but studied him like a test. Was this human trustworthy?

The Triple Stryke sniffed at his hand and then sneezed slightly. Tommy laughed and the dragon seemed to smile awkwardly, showing his teeth as his mouth curved and pupils wider in joy. Tommy cusped the dragon’s chin and pulled himself forwards to touch the dragon’s forehead with his own. It came to him then, in that second of elation.

-----------------------------------------

“Mellohi,” he whispered, meeting the dragon’s eyes, “How about that for a name?”

Chapter Text

Mellohi seemed to like his name. Whenever Tommy called him, he would look up and tilt his head at Tommy in fascination, as Tommy did for him. Now that they were closer, Tommy found he could approach the dragon without fear and simply sit on a rock, drawing him or writing about him; his own entry for the Book of Dragons.

‘The Triple Stryke in question seems to be quite friendly, as least to those him is grateful towards and deems trustworthy. I can sit for hours and have him by me or doing as he pleases. And though he could easily fly away, I have a sense that he will stay by me, as a favour one might say. Whatever the case, this dragon doesn’t seem dangerous at all.’

Tommy smiled at his work and looked up at Mellohi, who was chowing down on a sack of fish. He seemed unbothered by anything else, his muzzle far into the bag.

“Mellohi,” Tommy called, but the dragon didn’t move. It was expected of course; nothing could learn it’s name that easily. Tommy shaded an area on his drawing of the Triple Stryke, accompanying his description on another page.

He looked up again and saw Mellohi sniffing at the back of the sack, trying to find more. He turned to face Tommy with and eager expression and walked over to him.

“Sorry, mate, I don’t have any more,” Tommy said and Mellohi growled in self-defeat. Tommy smiled, “Don’t worry; it’s not like you’re going to starve. You just had an entire bag! Boy, if I had an appetite like you…”

*Then you would probably starve.*

Well, that wasn’t true. He ate frequently in the Great Hall with Wilbur, never not being surprised about how much food was lain out beforehand—and how much got thrown away when it could be given to others. That was the kindness of the Chief, though.

His daily routine consisted of getting up to travel to the other side of the island, spending his day with Mellohi—maybe seeing Sam for a few minutes for supplies—and then seeing Wilbur. Neither the dragon nor the boy wanted Tommy to leave them.

“I wonder—” Tommy began, “—if you even know my name?”

Mellohi stretched his wings and snapped his pincer-like claws, oblivious to Tommy’s question. It was true he could either be the most intelligent animal Tommy knew or the dumbest. Tommy scratched him under the chin and Mellohi hummed in elation.

“If not; I’m Tommy. Tommy Innit, if you want my full name. You’re lucky enough to have a name that comes from the coolest song in the world. I don’t know where my name comes from. Parents I’ll never get to know.”

The memory—or not so—of his parents caused Tommy to recoil his hand away from Mellohi. It should not have made him stagger, since the people he grieved were only a name, a blank face, in his mind. Even so, dragons were what made him an orphan.

Mellohi poked at him with the claw on his wing, still craving more attention. Tommy sighed and lay his book across the rock. Mellohi sniffed curiously at the book, and Tommy saw that he was examining the book, the image of himself Tommy had created. He held it up and showed to the dragon.

“That’s you,” Tommy said and held up his pencil, “I drew it with this.”

Tommy wondered if Mellohi had ever seen what he looked like. Animals didn’t have mirrors to admire themselves in. He could’ve never seen his white scale patches or daring purple eyes.

Those eyes suddenly had a glint in them, like Mellohi was concocting an idea. They were wide, and his razor-sharp teeth hung over his mouth into a small grin.

“What are you up to now?” Tommy asked and the dragon crawled on all fours towards a large centre of empty space. He knotted his three tails together in a loop and hung them above his head slightly menacingly. Then, he dug them into the ground and began to trail around backwards. Tommy watched him fascinatingly, not having the slightest idea what he was doing. Mellohi sometimes stopped to squint at whatever he was doing and adjust it with his tail. When he was done, Mellohi sauntered over to Tommy and pushed him forward with his tail. Tommy swiped at the tail and moved towards whatever he had done on the ground. Then, he sucked in a tight breath.

Mellohi had made his own drawing.

It was lumpy and wobbly, but it was Tommy. It had a lump of scraggly hair, a long smile and wide eyes. Eyes that Tommy knew as his own. It was only his head, but it was more of a creation Tommy had ever seen from an animal. Quite frankly, it was awful; Tommy could’ve drawn better when he was an infant. But it made only his chest swell with joy all the same.

He looked back and smiled Mellohi, teeth showing and mouth wide. Mellohi opened his mouth and let his teeth hang into a goofy smile, his purple tongue hanging in the back of his mouth. Tommy shook his head and smiled, walking back to his book and putting it under his arm. He turned back and pressed his hand against Mellohi’s forehead, sliding it all the way down to his chin.

“See you tomorrow,” he whispered and took his hand away, turning towards the clearing.

Mellohi growled softly, staring at Tommy longingly. When he was out of sight, he scowled and limped away, flapping his wings and flying far away from the crater. A thought—an idea—struck the creature’s mind, but that was something he would do that later.

-------------------------------------------

Tommy could hear a noise.

It wasn’t very loud, but it wasn’t quiet either. He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling as a loud crash, crash, crash echoed outside. Ranboo slept soundly, breathing loudly out of his nose. If he could talk, he would definitely be a snorer.

Tommy sat up and stared forwards towards the window, where the curtains billowed in the harsh wind. He pulled off his thin layered sheets and stepped one foot out of bed; his temperature decreasing as he did. Tommy walked over to the window and peeked out behind the curtains.

The sky was dark and only a few starts twinkled. The wind ravished any other noises in the area and hissed in Tommy’s ears. Despite the wind, he could still hear the disturbance down below. He closed the window to kill the chilled draught and drew the curtains to. Walking back to the stairs, Tommy tiptoed as quietly as he could down them. Ranboo couldn’t be penetrated out of sleep, but Tubbo slept downstairs and could hear better than a moth at times when Tommy wished he wouldn’t.

He made it to the door and slipped on his shoes, grabbing his coat before opening the door. Tommy paused in the doorway and looked back at the table. On it sat his dagger. The same one he hadn’t touched since he first encountered Mellohi. He scowled before heading back in and grabbing it, then closing the door quietly.

Tommy headed towards the back of the house, where the sound of the commotion got louder. Juorse’s stable was directly behind the house, but Tommy heard no noise from the horse as he drew closer; something that Tommy used to indicate the danger level. There was no whinnying from the horse.

Tommy gripped his dagger tightly as he approached. His heart was racing as he got closer and closer. Abruptly, a barrel came flying into frame and clattered across the ground, rolling all the way across to hit Tommy’s foot. He gulped.

The next few seconds were quick and blurry. A shadow flew past the ground in front of Tommy and he staggered back. His head swivelled round faster than a screw and his eyes were wide and alert. One second he was on his feet and equipped, the next he was dangling and his dagger clattered on the ground. He gasped in surprise and swiped at the air.

This seemed all too familiar.

Tommy spun around and was met with striking purple eyes that were wide and somewhat joyful. Striking.

“Mellohi?” Tommy whispered and stared up at his leg, which was being held by three tails wrapped together with a barb on top, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The Triple Stryke growled softly and placed Tommy back on the ground, then proceeded to run around him like a playful puppy. Tommy batted his hands and raised his finger to his mouth.

“Shhhhhhh! You’re not supposed to be out here!” Tommy whispered loudly but Mellohi only pushed his head into Tommy’s hands affectionately, “A big dragon like you acting like a dog with a tail between his legs. Listen, if someone finds you we’re both in the shit. You’ll be dead and one someone’s wall, and I’ll either be hung or tortured. God knows what Tubbo and Ranboo will go through.”

Tommy stared to push Mellohi back but he started rooted to the spot, only growling slightly. Tommy hit his hands against him slightly harder than he anticipated and Mellohi raised his wings and got louder, unwinding his tails. Tommy held up his hands in apology.

“Sorry,” he whispered and rubbed the Triple Stryke on the snout. Mellohi rolled his eyes and then started sniffing at the dagger on the ground. Tommy kicked it from view before he could get a better look. Mellohi tilted his head and then started sniffing at the wood.

“How did you even find me?” Tommy asked, looking over his shoulder for any lurkers, “Did you sniff me out? That’s kinda cool—if not stalkery. But why did you come?” Mellohi didn’t answer, because he was a dragon and only started to wander around the back of the house. Tommy followed aimlessly and looked around, his hands starting to twitch nervously.

“Mellohi,” he sighed and the dragon turned to him with understanding, “You need to go. It’s not safe, especially in the village. You don’t know how horrible some people in the village are.”

Mellohi cooed and Tommy scratched him under the chin, “I know, buddy, but I’ll see you tomorrow—or today, as it’s early morning. Just—”

Something slammed inside the house and Tommy’s eyes grew wide. Someone was awake—and it was probably Tubbo. He heard the door close and distant mutterings. Mellohi stared to grumble and his tail shook like a rattlesnake.

Tommy clicked his fingers and Mellohi looked towards him. Tommy pointed up and the dragon did a form of a nod and started scrambling up the roof. Just as his tail went with him, a very tired and scraggly Tubbo walked into view. His hair stuck up in different directions and his arms stuck up with gooseflesh. He rubbed his eyes and stared dumbly at Tommy.

“Whatcha doin’ out ‘ere?” Tubbo drawled, flicking sleep off of his fingers. His voice went more country when he was tired.

“Nothing. Thought I heard something,” Tommy shrugged and Tubbo looked blank faced at him.

Behind Tommy, a tail floated past his shoulders like a feather on a string and Tubbo widened his eyes.

“What?” Tommy asked and followed Tubbo’s line of sight to behind him. His stomach churned. Tubbo stepped forwards slightly and then yawned.

“Nothing. I’m probably just tired. Come back in, Tommy; it’s cold out here.” Tubbo walked away and Tommy sighed in relief. He looked up at Mellohi, who smiled with teeth back at him. Tommy tilted his head to the sky and Mellohi shifted slightly before picking up his wings and flying away. Tommy watched him until he was out of view, and then went back inside, the only thought on his mind the dragon on the island. At least, the one he had befriended.

--------------------------------------------------

When Tommy woke again, but this time in the morning, he headed out quickly to avoid any more questions from Tubbo. He would be awake and alert now, and Tommy didn’t want him second guessing his sighting of Mellohi’s tail, though he hoped Tubbo would only consider it a dream.

Tommy paused after exiting his house and turned to the back of the house slightly. He had an urge. It had been quite some time since he was seen Sam, at least to the extent he usually had, and he remembered days upon days of rushing to his house and sitting eagerly on the side of his chair to listen to what he had to say. He remembered having a good time, and he missed the man dearly. Sam was a good friend, and an even better teacher.

He would still be able to visit Mellohi as well, and it wasn’t like the dragon knew about punctuality.

Clenching his fists, Tommy moved towards the back of the house and into the stable. Juorse stood, unmoved by anything else that had happened and looked up at Tommy.

Tommy grasped at the reigns and led the horse out of the stable. Then, he clutched at the saddle and pulled himself over and on top of the horse. Tommy gripped the reigns and smacked them against Juorse, leading him into a stride towards another side of the island.

-------------------------------------------

The ride, as usual, didn’t feel as if it took that long at all.

Tommy felt the familiarity of his surroundings as he passed through the forestry and felt the same feeling he had felt whenever he traversed this path. Bliss. A feeling so joyful that it was reminiscent. It wasn’t like he had spent ages not visiting Sam, but it was long enough to look on it like a past memory, but not a past life. His past life was unaccustomed.

He hadn’t seen Fran in a while too, and he missed the Rumblehorn a bit. She was kind and peaceful, whereas Mellohi was rowdy and rambunctious. But Tommy still cared for him, no matter how ill-behaved he was.

It was so blissful, that he didn’t notice the scar in the greenery. The torment in stone and agony trailing in the grass. He didn’t notice what was in front of him because he was too busy staring at the sky. But there wouldn’t be anything flying in it.

When Tommy looked forward to see the cottage before him, his heart sank like a rock in a ravine. Fast. Heavy. And with a collateral impact.

The cottage was gone.

All that remained with rubble and dust.

He clamoured off of Juorse, leaving him standing alone, and ran as fast as he could to the wreckage, his heart beating like a dragon’s wings. This couldn’t be happening. Tommy ran towards where the cottage once stood and stopped in its remains. Where once stood a tall house now stood stone lain around in heaps, cracked and broken, torn apart like clay. Dead flowers crumpled against the grass and wood stuck out like splinters. Assortments from Sam’s home lay under the decay of the wreck, and Tommy crumpled to his knees.

A tear fell from his eyes and splashed against his cheek. He clenched his fists and smacked one against the ground in defeat. The cave that was once behind the cottage was now visible from the front, but Tommy had no means of going in. Not now.

Pieces of the floorboard still remained on the ground, only touched by dust. Tommy looked at the rubble and his face contorted into anger. Someone had done this. A person. Had destroyed Sam’s house. And maybe Sam—

*Shut up,* Tommy thought to himself angrily, *Sam wouldn’t have been killed. Would he?*

Tommy pushed himself up off of the ground and started to walk through the ruins, observing what was left. Maps, books, shelves—now destroyed like broken toys—and a few smashed pots were what stuck out as recognisable. Shattered glass posed in his path like warnings now bygone from being a notice of destruction. Tommy stepped over them.

He walked to the place where the back of the house would be, staring at an invisible wall. The flooring was still smooth and untouched, raising him slightly. Tommy turned to look back in his past direction and sighed. There was nothing he could do now. Sam was either dead or long gone, and he couldn’t find him even if he was. Whoever had done this, though, would certainly come back for one last inspection, and Tommy didn’t want to be added to the rest of the rubble to be examined.

Turning on his heels, Tommy headed back in his previous direction before he caught his foot on the floor and twisted forwards, tumbling towards the ground. He let out a small yelp and put out his hands, hitting the ground with only a sore shoulder.

“Arrgh,” Tommy muttered and rubbed his shoulder, looking back at the catalyst of his fall. It was a piece of the wooden tile that remained of the floor. Tommy shook his head in annoyance and went to get up before turning back to face the floorboard. It was sticking up. And in an unusual way, like it had been ripped out and then stuffed back down with careful thought. That was until Tommy tumbled over it and pulled it out.

Tommy crawled over towards the tile and prodded it. It made a small sound, like it was hollow underneath. Tommy manoeuvred his fingers to under the tile and pulled it upwards carefully. It gradually rose up from the floor and soon Tommy was able to take it off, revealing a moderate sized stash hole under the ground. There were things stored under, but the things that stuck out on top was a piece of paper.

He grasped at it and unfolded it, reading every letter carefully:

‘T,
If you are reading this, then that means the bunker hasn’t been compromised. If not, then whatever dirty bastard is reading this better put everything back where they found it and fuck off.

I can’t be very clear with certain details, so I’ll have to be vague with some parts. The main part is that they found me, T, and Fran. You know who. I was being too ambiguous with letting her out and eventually, someone saw. They’d been scanning the island after the encounter you told me off, and it was only natural they’d find me. I can only pray that you and Three are safe. I write this note shortly before I am soon to leave for another island. You may find this when my previous dwelling in it its worse condition. I am safe, for now. I hope to head to an island where what I believe is accepted, and I will continue to do my work and search for my partner. I hope he is still out there.

T, I leave you with one of my most prized possessions, and hope you can use it as I did. Don’t fret; I have a spare copy with me, so I can still use it. I also leave you with something to help you find your flight, and something to comfort you. Don’t worry about me, and don’t try to find me. If you wish to, wait for a time when you and our beliefs are free to roam as they please, and the sky will be full again. I care for you very much, T, and hope your time with me meant as much to you as it did to me.

Take care of yourself, and I hope that you and I will meet on the back of a beast.

S,’

Tommy let down the letter and wiped his eyes. Sam was safe, or at least he hoped he was. He hoped that they hadn’t got to him; the people from the village. Chief Philza and his dark, dangerous blue eyes. Destroying other people’s lives instead of building one for his sons.

Taking a sigh of relief, Tommy stuck his hands into the hole to pull out everything else. His hands returned with a wooden chest gripped in them, and he placed it on the ground.

When Tommy opened it, his heart stopped again when the objects were pulled to the surface.

What captured his eye first, was a saddle. Large, leather and beautifully crafted, threads spiralling round the sides like flames tickling a gush of wind. Buckles fell off of it and straps from the front. A three barbed symbol sat in the top right corner, and Tommy knew it was crafted just for him.

'Something to help you find your flight.'

Tommy placed it to his left and dug another object out of the chest. His eyes widened. It was the Book of Dragons. The spine was wider than his wrist and golden threads spun across it, metal beads embedded in the spine to hold it together. A large, curled up dragon sat on the cover, and Nordic letters spelled out its name. Tommy flicked through the pages, images and words flowing through his mind.

'One of my most prized possessions, and hope you can use it as I did.'

One last item sat in the chest, and Tommy grabbed it out. It was a small, white canvas sack tied with a string, and it crunched as Tommy grasped it. He carefully untied the sack and put his hand in. Then, he pulled it out and opened his palm wide for him to see.

An avalanche of dragon scales slid around in his hand and a few fell like loose pebbles on a cliff. They were small, emerald and smooth. They were Rumblehorn scales. Tommy swiped his thumb across them like they were crystals and moved his hand close to his chest.

'Something to comfort you.'

Tommy put the scales back into the sack and tied the string, then shoved it into his jacket pocket. He got on his knees and carefully plotted the chest back into the hole; empty. The tile was placed back over the hole, an illusion of a flat ground with no secrets to hide. Tommy stood on his feet, holding the saddle and Book of Dragons in his hands. The letter was crumpled up in his pocket, safe and his.

He made his way over to Juorse slowly and placed one foot over the animal. Then, he turned gently to face the rubble that had once been a home, and a smile and a tear formed on his face.

“Goodbye Sam,” Tommy whispered, letting the tear fall from his eye to his chin, “May we meet again in the skies, or even further to the sandy shores of Valhalla.”

And he grasped at the reigns, turning one last time away from the place where he had been taught to fly. Now, a place soiled by people.

Chapter Text

It turned out that the stone walls encompassing the crater were softer than they appeared.

Tommy—with the help of Mellohi—was able to store his items around in a small but big enough hole, and then cover it back up as if it had never been touched by rolling a sizable rock over it. No one would bother to move it.

He certainly wasn’t going to take his new items back home. A stroke of the saddle, a flick of the book and a scatter of scales would have him in right shit. Still, he decided to look through his belongings before he hid them away.

Tommy sat, cross-legged, on the ground, the book in his lap and the saddle a few feet away. Mellohi sniffed at it curiously and then wrenched back. He clawed at the bag of dragon scales and grumbled sadly.

“Yeah, I know, mate,” Tommy said, “They’re gone. And they’ll probably never come back. But we’ll be fine. We have to be. There’s no one we can depend on but ourselves. Be that as it may, I still have everything in here—” he pointed to the book, “—and here.”

He pointed to his head and Mellohi stared with a blank expression. Tommy sighed and flicked the pages of the book.

“Alright, lets have a look at you then,” he muttered and flicked until he was in ‘Strike Class’. The first dragon that appeared was a Deathgripper but he didn’t have one of those. He flipped through quickly until he was in the designated letter and there, he found Triple Stryke.

“Let’s see what this says about you,” Tommy said, looking up at Mellohi, who was sat down opposite him, gnawing at a fish.

‘_TRIPLE STRYKE_
Class: Strike
Threat: High/4
Dietary: Carnivore—preference for live kill (fish, yak preferably)
Tameable: Perhaps

_DESCRIPTION_
Known for their triple barbed tails, Triple Strykes also have two arms resembling pincers, two bulky, coned ear-like appendages on their head, a single horn on their muzzle and large, piercing eyes. Their scales are impenetrable except for the underbelly, which can be struck. Their wings are quite large and usually have a wingspan of at least over twenty-nine feet and a size of thirty feet. The three tails can be woven together to create one deadly tail and make a clicking sound before they attack. Their patterns usually have two colours; a main one that encircles all the body and one that is seen in patches or on the horns and tails. The Triple Stryke has a barbed hide, which protects it from attacks. They resemble something of a scorpion, a wasp or a bat.

_THREAT_
Triple Strykes are very aggressive dragons. They are merciless and formidable, stopping at no cost to destroy their opponents. You could stumble on them feeding, nesting or simply traversing the forests and they will most likely attack—’

Tommy paused and looked at Mellohi, “Then why didn’t you?”

‘—especially if they have been treated wrong. However, save one or prove your trust and they will be extremely grateful, giving their trust and staying by your side to keep you safe. Their danger is so high because of their threats, like their tails, and also their unpredictability.

_PERSONALITY_
It’s hard to tell what each dragon will be like, but Triple Strykes are usually cautious, battle-hardened and fierce. Their sheer confidence and intimidating stature are enough to scare other dragons. With its incredible skills, these dragons are arrogant and sometimes over-confident, loving to flaunt its abilities. These dragons, however, are quite misunderstood. While seemingly merciless, these dragons do repay their debts and are incredibly grateful. They will stop at no cost to express their gratitude and respect, proving their loyalty and trust. They are solitary creatures who do not live in packs. Males might fight upon seeing one another in the wild but it is very unlikely the species will meet. Treat these creatures wrong and their thoughts of you will be soured and your life threatened.

_ABILITIES_
On the tip of each of the Triple Stryke's three tails, there is a stinger, each one producing its own unique venom: The first numbs opponents, the second disorients them with mild hallucinogens, and the third creates the agonizing sensation of your blood burning. Triple Strykes use their tails as their primary source of attack and defence. The Triple Stryke's tail is prehensile, which makes it able to grasp objects. The Triple Stryke's tails can also be used as a whip if they are not in a position for stinging. When the tails are combined, they can effectively whip or smack its opponents. They can shoot intense, continuous streams of bright orange flames. They can release large jets of fire because of their wide jaws. They also appear to be highly concentrated in fuel, as the flame gives off a bright colour. The flames can also be shot as short fire blasts that are more fit for destroying objects, as they have been seen to explode wooden shields easily and quickly. It is also said that the Triple Stryke's fire is able to blind its opponents. Their firepower can also survive underwater. They prefer not to use their fire as much, as it requires a lot of energy. The Triple Stryke has shown a lot of strength, especially in its tail. As a Strike Class Dragon, the Triple Stryke is an incredibly fast dragon. It shows great aerodynamics and agility during flight, being able to fly upside down and do flips. Thanks to their agility, the Triple Stryke has been seen to often perform a fast-spinning defensive roll as it comes into battle, similar to a Hideous Zippleback flaming wheel. The roll can be used for defence as it has a thick hide, and its underbelly won't be exposed. Triple Strykes can also use this for an ambush attack, as its spins really fast before landing and striking its opponents with its tails, without being noticed or harmed. It can also be used if the Triple Stryke needs to get near its opponents without getting injured.

_TRAINING_
It’s quite tough, but Triple Strykes can be trained. They are very intelligent dragons and can follow commands easily if they have enough care and loyalty. Trying to train one immediately after it has been found is tricky, but there is a way. Clicking two objects together (or rattling them around) can confuse the Triple Stryke into thinking there is another one around and can be used to train it, as they use rattling sounds in their tails before they are to attack. Learning to ride them is very hard, but enough persistence (and fish) will let it happen. They can be trained.’

Tommy put the book down and stood up towards Mellohi. He looked up at Tommy curiously, his tails slinking back and forth behind him. Tommy placed one hand on his muzzle and then walked around him, placing a hand on his leg and wings. Mellohi turned his head as far as it could go and then looked the other way as Tommy encircled him, trying to see what he was doing. When Tommy was done, he stood back and nodded, a smile on his face.

“I think this just might work.”

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When Tommy woke the next morning, he ran straight to the armoury. It was a Sunday, so no one would be working today, so no Schlatt, Tubbo or Ranboo to bother him. Tommy wasn’t as good with his hands as them, but he had something envisioned in his mind and he was going to make it.

He spent most of the morning rushing around the shop to find the parts to needed and then it took him a while to assemble them. He nearly took his fingers in the process, but by lunch, Tommy was done.

He held up his creation in delight and then smiled. It had worked after all.

“Hey,” a voice said and Tommy dropped his product in surprise. He turned around and saw a young girl standing outside the shop. She was probably around thirteen or fourteen, but she had long, blonde hair, a green knitted shirt and a mischievous grin. That was what stood out to Tommy.

“What are you doing?” she asked, peering over the counter. Tommy picked up his product and put it under his jacket.

“None of your business.”

“Yeah it is.”

“No, it’s not. This isn’t your shop.”

“Well, it’s not yours either.”

Tommy suddenly felt a pang in his chest and glared down at the girl.

“Run along and play with your toys, kiddo. You never know when the next metal-related accident happens in the armoury,” he snapped and the girl’s eyes went wide for a moment before smiling.

“You remind me of someone,” she said.

“Yeah, who’s that?”

“My brother. He used to say things to try and scare me, but it was only for fun. He’d always sneak around too, but that didn’t lead to anything good.”

“Yeah? Well, do I know him?” Tommy asked, wondering if by any chance Wilbur had a sister. The girl shook her head with a small smile.

“No. He’s way older than you, and besides, he’s not here anymore,” she said simply, staring at her feet.

“Oh,” Tommy said softly, “Um, sorry.”

“No, no it’s not like that. He’s still alive, he just…left, probably about eight years ago now. Him and his friends; they had to. Else they would’ve been dead if they had stayed. No one wants to speak about him, though, because they hate the thought of what he did. But I think they’re just scared; scared in case anyone else does the same thing. I want to, when I’m older, but I don’t really want to leave Mom. She gets real sad at night sometimes, cradling his old blanket. She thinks he’s dead, but my big brother would never die like that. He would never die at all.”

“Uh, what did he do exactly?”

“I can’t say that,” she said, sort of mischievously, “It would ruin the surprise. Besides, the only people who can say are the Council when they have meetings. I’ve heard them when I sit in the hills. They say such crude things about them all; it makes me want to go in and beat them up.”

“That’s very forward. And you can’t go saying those sorts of things around here—you’d get in trouble.”

“Our town isn’t very democratic if you can’t even express your opinion. I think they’re just scared of change, scared of someone standing up to them. Someone like—”

The girl paused and looked back in the distance. She sighed and looked back at Tommy, grinning slightly.

“I have to go now, but catch you later,” she said before running away. Before she went completely out of distance, she turned and called, “My name’s Drista!”

Tommy stood still for a moment, processing his own thoughts and then got back to adding the final touches to his tool. He wondered if Drista’s brother and his friends were the same group the Chief had been on about in his meeting; the ones who had been causing trouble. The ones he had wanted to send children to war for.

------------------------------------------------

“Okay,” Tommy muttered, placing the last fish in the basket. Mellohi was observing from behind him, drool falling from his teeth, “There!”

He stood up, blocking the fish from view and put one finger up in front of Mellohi.

“Wait,” he ordered simply, the dragon’s eyes on the fish only, “Wait.”

Tommy took one step away from the fish and Mellohi moved forward. He stepped back.

“No, wait, Mellohi. Wait just one second, and then you can have it all.”

Mellohi seemed to be too focused on the fish them Tommy’s words. Tommy took in a breath and pulled out his product. He put it out in front of him and spun it around. A loud rattling sound came from it and Mellohi’s head swivelled, looking around him to find it. Tommy spun it again, making the Triple Stryke look faster.

“Mellohi!” he called and the dragon turned back and watched him. The rattle stopped, “Wait.”

Mellohi growled but he seemed more focused now and was able to stand still. Tommy took one step away from the fish basket. Mellohi stayed still. He took another step away. Mellohi moved forward slightly. Tommy used the rattle and he moved back.

“Okay, now hold on just a minute…” he mumbled, moving over towards the saddle. When he grabbed it, Tommy turned on his heels and spun the rattle once.

“GO!” he shouted and Mellohi moved like a rocket, sticking his head into the basket and devouring the fish. Tommy laughed and moved carefully over to Mellohi’s back. He was too busy eating to be aware of Tommy, especially after waiting so long for it. Tommy slid the rattle in his belt and began working quickly.

He slid the saddle over Mellohi’s back, wrapping the straps together and then positioning it slightly. Tommy stood back and looked, smiling and then nodded.

“That looks great,” he said and Mellohi looked up, the basket still on his head. He through it off and turned his head to look at the saddle. Tommy saw the cogs turning in his head as he examined the thing on his back. Tommy hesitated, seeing if he would throw it off or let it be. Mellohi poked at it with his tail before turning back to the remains of fish.

“Does that mean you like it?” Tommy asked, getting blanked as the head of the Triple Stryke disappeared into the basket, “That’s strange. Aren’t animals supposed to hate saddles? Next thing you’ll tell me is that you like being ridden.”

He paused, “Do you?”

Mellohi didn’t respond because he was a dragon that could not speak English. After he had finally finished his meal, he stared at Tommy was his daring purple eyes, this time with wit.

Try me, they whispered.

When Schlatt had bought Juorse from a farmer, he had not needed to break him in because he was already rideable, so Tommy had just got on and rode him. He didn’t think Mellohi had ever been ridden, but he seemed like he wanted to try. Unusual, again.

Tommy reached his hand out to grasp the saddle but took it back, hanging stiff in the air. Mellohi moved towards him and placed his muzzle under Tommy’s dangling hand. His eyes looked down at Tommy and seemed to be trying him. Tommy reached his hand out again, this time further.

He might’ve touched the saddle if it wasn’t for the gong.

It sounded loudly, all the way from a hill in the village and it made Tommy jerk backwards. They usually chimed gongs on Sundays every hour or so as reminders, for people had no work. It reminded Tommy all right.

“Shit!” he cried aloud, staggering backwards and moving towards the hole he had made a few days prior. Mellohi followed him and wrapped his tails around the rock, pulling it easily away. Tommy stuffed his rattle into the hole, new room made since the saddle now rested on Mellohi. When he was done, the rock was placed back in perfect condition.

He moved towards Mellohi and gave him a gentle pat on the side.

“Sorry, I have to rush off today. I’m supposed to be meeting Wilbur. The guy will throw a fit if I’m late. Remember; stay secret. Stay hidden. Stay safe. And don’t let anyone get you. I’ll be back tomorrow, as usual."

Tommy started running out of the crater but turned back before he was out of sight, “And don’t ruin that saddle!”

--------------------------------------------

When Tommy arrived in the plaza—hot, sweaty and out of breath—he did not expect to find Wilbur lying on the grass, humming, with a dumbstruck expression. He held his guitar in his hands and struggled with the strings.

“Uh, hey Will,” Tommy started, looking at the bloke nervously, “What’s up with you?”

Wilbur didn’t answer, so Tommy kicked him.

“Hmm? Oh, hello Tommy,” Wilbur said softly, as if he barely even noticed, “Great day, isn’t it?”

“Uh, I guess—”

“The hills are alive, the birds are free and the men are smiling!” he cried and sat up, a dazed grin on his face. Tommy narrowed his eyes.

“Uh, Will, you haven’t set fire to those strange plants by Billzo’s house have you?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Wilbur sighed and placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. It felt wet.

“The truth, Tommy-my-boy, is that I am in love. Deep. Deep. Love.”

Tommy held his breath for only a moment before bursting into a great laughter. He wheezed and smacked the grass with his hands, heaving in deep and rasping breaths. Wilbur sat unmoved by his actions, only pursing his lips.

“What seems to be so funny?” he asked and Tommy tried to breathe.

“You’re—in love? Deep. Deep Love?” Tommy questioned, trying to make his face straight.

“Fuck off,” Wilbur snapped and picked up his guitar.

“No, no, I’m sorry. Go on, tell me all about it,” Tommy said and sat cross legged opposite Wilbur, his cheeks in his hands like a girl listening to gossip. Wilbur observed him before sighing.

“It’s nothing. It’s not like it’s ever meant to be…” he drawled and Tommy faked a stretch so he could roll his eyes.

“What?? Of course not! You are Wilbur Soot, future heir to L’Manberg! You can get any woman, and they will want you. I mean, who wouldn’t? Not me, of course, but anyone else would!” he added quickly, “Go on, tell me about her.”

Wilbur sighed again, and Tommy thought if he did it again he would punch him.

“I was wandering around the docks, trying to find some inspiration for a song. I didn’t know that I would find the biggest inspiration of them all. I look up, and what do I see? A young, beautiful maiden standing on a boat, one that had come in for trading. She had long, luscious red locks and the sweetest eyes. Our eyes met, and I felt something I had never felt before!”

“A concussion?”

“Love! The truest love I had ever felt, at least for a woman. I went to approach her, but I felt panicked and walked in the other direction. I thought, 'I can see her tomorrow, maybe speak to her,' but alas, she is the daughter of a sailor, a trader. They do not stay on islands, no, they part ways at the seas and leave forever. If the world was a circle, they might return, but after a few days, we will never see each other…again!”

Wilbur threw himself to the ground dramatically and Tommy couldn’t tell if he was really sobbing.

“Right, well, do you know what I think Will? I think you’re being a bit dramatic. A pretty lady looked in the direction you were standing, and you toppled a bit—hopefully—over the docks. Maybe you did that first, saw a fish in the water and when you came back over you thought there was a woman? I dunno if she's even real, but I do think you’re something else Wilbur.”

Wilbur mumbled something, which Tommy take as a ‘what’.

“I think that you’re not in love; you’re simply in-fat-u-ated,” Tommy said simply, remembering a word Wilbur himself had once used in a song. Wilbur snapped back up off of the ground immediately and looked at Tommy, his face slightly dirty.

“What? I am not infatuated! I’m in love!”

“You’re obsessed.”

“Because of love!”

“Will, you haven’t even spoken to this woman yet. You can’t be in love! You can have a crush, or a romantic feeling, but love comes after getting to know someone and realising what they’re like. Your case is that you saw a woman and became obsessed!” Tommy snapped and nodded once.

Wilbur scowled and picked up his guitar, shuffling away from Tommy. Tommy sighed and ripped out a blade of grass, wrapping it around his finger and then off again.

“Hey guys!” someone said and Tommy looked up to see Niki coming towards them.

“Oh, hey Niki!” Tommy said and smiled as she stood before them. She frowned at Wilbur, who was muttering something.

“What’s up with Will?” she asked politely.

“He has a thing for a sailors daughter. Got all worked up after her. I said he was infatuated, but he claims to be in love. I think he got rejected.”

“Oh, that’s rough,” Niki said and knelt down beside them. Tommy then heard what Wilbur had been mumbling.

“Her hair was as red as a freshly caught salmon, her eyes as blue as the sea…”

“Hey Will, how about ‘freshly scaled’ salmon? Y’know, to symbolise your rejection?”

Niki giggled and Wilbur glared up at Tommy, strumming one last one on his guitar.

“This is the part where you’re not funny, Tommy.”

Niki laughed and Tommy shook his head, bounding onto Wilbur and punching him weakly.

They played and fought and bantered the rest of the evening until Niki left, then Wilbur—after they had eaten—and Tommy slept peacefully, not thinking at all about what he might have to do the next day. He might have to ride a dragon. By himself.

Chapter Text

It seemed he wouldn’t have to fly today after all.

Tommy had a vague—somewhat distorted—memory of the night before, when Wilbur had asked if they could meet in the morning and do something Tommy had now forgotten all day. He had said yes. He also wondered if he had managed to sneak his way over to one of the cups on the tables in the Great Hall, because he had no idea why he felt so worn out and shit.

He pondered about going to Wilbur’s house on his way to the woods and tell him he was busy, but the thought of flying and the front door opening to the Chief made his stomach feel queasy so he decided against it.

Tommy lay in bed for a while longer, now he had nowhere to be. Wilbur might take a few extra hours—probably messing with his hair for most of it—so Tommy didn’t want to overprepare for a simple going-out. He lay there, of course, thinking about Mellohi. He wondered if the dragon would get anxious if he didn’t arrive—and if he had kept the saddle on in flawless condition.

He should have known, there and then, by his doubt that not everything would go to plan.

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Ranboo sat at the table, eating his breakfast when the door knocked. Tubbo stood leaned against a wooden frame, idly turning a pencil between his fingers. He shared a puzzled glance with Ranboo before making his way to the door.

No one ever came to their house. Not unless there was a catastrophe, and Ranboo hadn't heard any commotion the night before.

Ranboo slid over to the next seat to get a nosy view of whoever was outside as Tubbo opened the door, carefully. He heard him exhale slightly and he slid his hand up the frame. The Chief’s son—Wilbur, Ranboo thought his name was— stood outside, his hands in his pockets and his hair dangling in front of his eyes.

Just by the look of him, Ranboo could tell he lived a high life, but was someone who tried not to boats about it—despite his untorn clothes and combed hair. Ranboo could tell he was a person who would annoy Tubbo by simply standing. He was like that.

“Um, hey,” Wilbur said sheepishly, staring back and forth at his feet, “You’re Tommy’s friend aren’t you—Tubbo?”

“Perhaps,” Tubbo said blatantly and coldly, folding his arms, “What do you want?”

Ranboo winced at his rudeness and cringed at the awkward scene. He’d always hated those, especially when they were happening in present time.

“Well, Tommy said he’d meet with me today, and I said I’d come to his house.”

Even from behind, Ranboo could tell Tubbo was glaring at the man—partially from his facial expression. Then, Tubbo sighed and walked back in the house.

“Come in then, if you have to,” he mumbled and walked towards the stairs, “TOMMY! You’re pal is here! Come to take you out for another wondrous day.”

He said that quieter, and only Ranboo heard it. Wilbur stood aimlessly in the middle of the house, looking around and standing awkwardly. His eyes fell on Ranboo, whose stomach fell.

*I pray—to any god out there—that he doesn’t talk to me.*

He didn’t know how dense Wilbur would be, or if he had even heard rumours of the half boy who couldn’t speak.

But for some reason, Tubbo started heading out of the room and towards another door. Ranboo jumped from his chair and grabbed his wrist. Tubbo turned to look at him, unbothered by his frantic eyes. Ranboo tilted his head in Wilbur’s direction, who had his back turned and staring at the floor, as if he was trying to make himself invisible. If he could do that, Ranboo would fall to his knees to learn. He shook his head and Tubbo rolled his eyes.

“You’ll be fine,” he scoffed and pulled his wrist out of his grip, walking away from him and out of the room. Ranboo didn’t like how dreary and irate Tubbo was becoming recently; he was a shadow of his former self. One who had once saved Ranboo from a life of torment and lived everyday with a smile. One who cared.

For others, it was easy enough what to do. Go upstairs, away from Wilbur so he didn’t have to be anywhere near the situation. Write a note saying he couldn’t speak and make sure there would be no conversation. Follow Tubbo.

But Ranboo had no courage to do that, not when the man’s eyes pierced through him, another examiner, another bunch of whispers in his mind circling around. He couldn’t move in any direction; he was frozen to the floor— trapped.

His foot turned in his direction.

*Don’t say anything.*

His eyes gazed at him.

*Don’t ask me anything.*

The man’s hips tilted as he leant on his leg, ready to start a conversation.

*⟊⎍⌇⏁ ⌰⟒⏃⎐⟒ ⋔⟒ ⏃⌰⍜⋏⟒!*

“So, you’re Ranboo, right?”

Ranboo felt his body go rigid and tense. He turned, barely in control of his body and nodded weakly at the man. Somehow, he managed to move his legs and sit back down at the table, hands shaking as he picked his breakfast back up.

“Yeah, Tommy told me a lot about you guys. Always good things, but sometimes in desperation. I dunno, but he’s a good kid.”

Ranboo was barely listening to the man anymore. He could hear his heart beating in his ears. He didn’t know why, but he was so scared. So scared of a situation so easy, so scared of a man who maybe had the power to hurt him, but was just an average guy coming to see his friend. So scared of confrontation.

“So, um, how did you guys meet?”

Ranboo went tight again, staring intensely at the wooden table and each line on it. His breathing was quick but silent, and he could feel the eyes of the man stabbing into him like a scalpel. He heard a tutting noise—presumably from Wilbur but his head felt like it was spinning so much he didn’t hear it.

Loud hums of noise filled the air, striking his ears. Ranboo closed his eyes tight and wrapped his head in his arms, wishing he could scream aloud for the pain. It was numbing. Something touched his shoulder gently and the pain, the humming, the fear stopped and it was calm. Ranboo opened his eyes, his breathing slowing and he looked out from under his arms.

Tommy was looking worryingly at him, saying something Ranboo could not hear. He pulled his head up, looking into his safe, blue eyes and—

“Ranboo? Ranboo are you alright?”

He gasped for a breath, and then faced Tommy, nodding weakly before pulling away. Tommy reached out once more but Ranboo reeled away, shaking his head at him and heading towards the stairs.

When he peered over the railings after he was at the top, the last thing Ranboo saw of Tommy was him heading out of the door, his back turned and when he closed it his eyes never met Ranboo’s.

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Tommy could tell something was wrong. From Ranboo’s state in the kitchen to Wilbur’s ugly face, he wondered if he should have been quicker getting dressed. Wilbur stomped quickly through the streets, making Tommy rush to keep up with him. He didn’t look angry, so to speak, only disgruntled.

“Do you mind telling me what’s up, or are you gonna sulk all day?” Tommy asked. They had stopped at their spot on the grass as Wilbur took a break from his strides

“Have your friends always been rude or is it just me?” Wilbur asked firmly and Tommy almost staggered back at his tone and manner. He had never been one to blurt something out so rambunctiously.

“What? They’re not rude.”

“Well, they sure didn’t like doing all that much. One who storms away and one who doesn’t speak at all.”

Tommy scoffed playfully, “I dunno. Tubbo can be quite ill mannered to those he doesn’t like, at times. I guess he’s just being a little bitch again, being jealous and all that. It’s not like Ranboo to storm away though. He usually holds his emotions in, he especially doesn’t let them out in anger.”

“Ranboo didn’t storm away.”

“Hmm?”

“That was Tubbo. Ranboo stood there, then sat there, inhospitably. Then he started acting like he was having a fit or something. I don’t mean to be impolite about your friends, but it was kind of rude.”

Tommy stood still, frowning in a loss of words and then his fists clenched.

“Shut up.”

Wilbur faced him, confusion on his face. One eyebrow was raised up.

“What?”

“Don’t talk shit about them—you have no idea what they’ve been through and how they act is their own business. They’re not bad people!”

“Tommy, calm down. I wasn’t being like that; it just would’ve been nice if Ranboo could hold a conversation instead of deadpanning onto a table and not speaking—”

“No shit he didn’t speak; he’s a fucking mute!”

Nothing built can last forever. All good things have to come to an end eventually.

There was silence as the two boys stood opposed to each other; one angry, the other surprised.

“Wh-what?”

“You happy now? You glad you got your answer Mr High-n-Mighty? Mr Heir-of- the-Village, Mr-Nothing-Shit-Happens-to-Me?” Tommy shouted, taking heavy breaths each time he spoke. He choked on his words and felt a tear roll down his cheek.

“I-I’m—”

“Don’t come to me with that sympathy—don’t come with sympathy at all! I don’t need it! We don’t need it! We’ve gotten on just fine the three of us; with nobody else to help or stop or think. You think we got anywhere with anyone else? Maybe in some instances, but not survival!”

“Tommy, I didn’t know—” Wilbur spluttered but Tommy would not let him speak.

“Bullshit! He’s been here for three fucking years, Wilbur, and you’re claiming you don’t know about him? No rumours of a weird kid or an outcast, a mute-ant or, I don’t know, THE FREAK WHO CAN’T SPEAK?” Tommy shrieked, pushing Wilbur back slightly. His rage was past a point of return, “Don’t you know how fucking hard it was for him to get by a single day without glances or whispers or fucking nicknames? To have no good no needed pricks ruin a single day, to have terrors disturb every night, to be blind to things only one can see? And you say you DON’T FUCKING KNOW?”

“I have more important things on my mind than random fucking orphans!” Wilbur shouted back, flaying his hands in the air and scowling down at Tommy. Tommy staggered back, falling over a small rock and tears falling down his face. His chest hitched with a sobbing breath and a glare was painted on his face.

“You insult me and my friends in the same sentence?” Tommy muttered, too quiet for Wilbur to hear. Or maybe he did hear it; he just didn't care. Tommy picked himself up and shook his head, “Have a nice day, Wilbur,” he scoffed and moved in the direction towards the woods, “I just realised I’m busy.”

“Ugh, Tommy!” Wilbur cried, moving forwards to grab his shoulder but Tommy lurched out of it and slapped his hand away.

“Don’t FUCKING touch me!” he shouted and turned back around, running to the woods, salty tears flying from his face in the wind.

Wilbur watched him go and his face contorted in fury. He cried out and spat curses towards the ground over and over, kicking the stone wall and doing more damage to his toes than the wall itself.

A single chip of stone fell from it, all the way to the ground, and a small crack formed in the wall itself.

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Tommy ran through the woods, his vision half-blinded by tears.

He didn’t even know what he was doing. He just knew he had to get out of there, and the woods had always been a means of escape.

Dead creepers lay restless under his feet and birds cawed overhead. Trees that were sprouted higher than mountains swayed in the wind, waiting for the day the wind was too strong and they fell over. Rocks sat like unmovable, watching lords and of course, in the middle of it all, sat the crater. Beauty in the eye of the beholder, one could say for nature. Some chose to wrap themselves in its vines while others chose to throw a stick into the wildfire.

Tommy found himself at the crater and let himself stumble down the hills to the middle. Mellohi wasn’t here. His feet moved in angles as he spun in every direction, eyes tracking anything that moved.

“Mellohi!” Tommy called for his only friend, at least at that moment, “Mellohi! Mellohi—MELLOHI! MELLOHI!”

He screamed in desperation, repeating the name louder and quicker after every that came before.

“MELLOHI! MELLOHI! MELLOHI! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? MELL—ohi! Mellohi.”

Tommy sank to the floor, knees perpendicular and his legs behind him. Steady tears flooded down his cheeks and stained the floor. Gasping sobs spilled from his mouth, echoed through his chest.

“Mellohi.”

He said it simply, one last time before bringing his knees up to his face and resting his chin and them, arms hugging his head. Then, he let it out.

He let out the tears he had been holding back. He let out the rage that had been building up inside of him for so long, only getting thicker and nastier. He let out the wails of his sadness and exhaustion. He let out the mournings of his friends— or maybe it was for them.

Maybe it was never meant to be. At least not for him.

Something touched the top of his hand and purred. It was cold, scaly but most importantly it was—

“M-Mellohi?” Tommy questioned warily, lifting his eyes from his knees. Purple eyes met him at eye level, cautious instead of daring, sad instead of joyful. Tommy let out a small whimper and flung his arms around the dragon’s neck. Hot tears slid down his scales and Mellohi rumbled in empathy. Tommy stood back, rubbing his red eyes dry and shrugged.

“God, what I pussy I am,” he muttered, ashamed by his behaviour. If he wanted people to treat him like an adult, he had to stop acting like a child. A memory, a single line, a voice of his past came to him at that moment and he shuddered at it.

“LEARN A FUCKING LESSON AND GROW THE FUCK UP!” it shrieked, but he didn’t remember the implementer of the conversation.

Mellohi growled softly and a long, purple tongue shot from his mouth and licked Tommy’s face from chin to hair. He let out a small yelp and shook his hands out in front of him. Long strings of drool fell down his face and drenched his hair.

“Ew! Don’t do that again!” he cried and ducked as Mellohi moved towards him, “Stop!”

Tommy let out a chorus of giggles as Mellohi affectionately attacked him and lay ambushed on the floor. He swatted his hands at him as Mellohi nuzzled his head into Tommy’s shoulder and soon enough, he found his eyes were dry and blue. A smile traced on Tommy’s face and he sat up, giving Mellohi an affectionate scratch under the chin.

“Thanks, mate. That really cheered me up,” he whispered to the dragon, who nodded and gurgled back at him. Tommy pulled himself up from the floor and walked to Mellohi’s side, where the saddle still sat. It looked as if it hadn’t been sitting on a dragon for the past 12 hours.

It was shiny, sleek and the three barbed symbol still sat in the top right corner. Tommy stroked it carefully and then placed one hand on it. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, but it wasn’t a sickening anxiety. It was a hopeful one. He turned to meet Mellohi’s eyes.

“So—how about a test flight?” he asked with a small smile, nervous but still a smile. Mellohi met his eyes and roared in delight. His eyes were audacious and bright with a fiery passion. They were as ready as Tommy wanted to be. And he would be.

Taking a deep breath, Tommy placed both of his hands on sides of the saddles and pulled himself up—with help from Mellohi by lowering down. Before he knew it, he was sat on the saddle. In the saddle. On top of the dragon.

On top of the world.

Tommy leaned forward and grabbed Mellohi’s two horns on the top of his head, holding them like poles; holding so tight that they would keep him safe and his arms wouldn’t hand aimlessly by his sides if he fell. They were support, to put it frankly.

He patted Mellohi’s head and his head turned to meet Tommy’s eyes. They were ambitious.

“Ready to go?” he asked and Mellohi grinned with all of his teeth. He made a clicking sound and leaned back, almost like he was readying himself for a race. Then, he shot into the air.

Tommy lurched forwards and kept a firm hold of the horns. Mellohi spun quickly in a loop a few feet above the air and then spread his whole body out. His tails flew directly up and then coiled together, rattling. When they were together, Mellohi let out a loud, piercing roar, so loud Tommy thought he might fall. Then, they shot up.

Tommy’s hair flew back far in the wind current as they aimed towards the clouds—so far he thought his hairline would start receding. Clouds were in the pupils of his eyes and his back faced the ground. He didn’t dare let go, but dared a look back. He turned back quickly after seeing the ground shake, blur and twist.

When they passed the clouds, Mellohi turned to fly straight, and Tommy was no longer hanging on by a thread. The sun sat beautifully in the sky, covered by nothing and warmth shining onto his skin. He looked over the edge but saw only fluffy clouds. Tommy smiled and let out a whoop for joy, putting his hands in the air.

Mellohi growled in delight and spun like an arrow three times. Tommy held on and because of the speed, he didn’t fall. Mellohi spread his wings out and they glided backwards with the current.

“WOOOOOOO!” Tommy screamed, laughing in delight and waving his arms in the air. Mellohi agreed. This was the best moment of his life. All the build up to flying with Mellohi, his nerves, his stress, had only led to freedom. It was unbelievable.

Tommy was flying.
Tommy was free.
Tommy was falling into the sea.

Mellohi was suddenly dropping, dropping down towards the sea. Tommy felt like he was being lifted up while also dropping down at high speeds.

“Mellohi!” he shouted, patting at the dragons head. He wasn’t stopping, “MELLOHI!”

The purple eyes looked back at him just before it seemed like that would reach impact. Tommy closed his eyes and winced, waiting to feel the cold rush of water smack against his face and salt to sting his nostrils. It never came.

Tommy opened one eye, and saw they were gliding over the ocean. Mellohi’s wing were wide and his tail straight. Tommy sighed in relief and punched the dragon softly. He looked up at him and his tongue flapped as they flew.

“You muttonhead,” Tommy scoffed but couldn’t help grinning at the goofy dragon, “Don’t ever do that again. Unless I say so.”

Mellohi laughed his choking laugh and Tommy shook his head. He took a peeking glance at the rippling waves before lying down on Mellohi’s back. The sky moved with gentle clouds and harmless actions. Clouds were like sheep bobbling along, not a thought in their mind at all.

Tommy felt peaceful.

He hadn’t felt this way for a long time. There was always something disrupting his calm, ruining the moment and coming to take every last drop of happiness in his life. Since the beginning, before he Sam, before Mellohi. If he had Tubbo by his side, if Ranboo had been there or not; it was him against the world.

The feeling of motion stopped and Tommy sat up from the back of the beast. Mellohi had landed on a small rock pillar out in the ocean, barely standing by the thinnest piece of spinal rock. It was small, but big enough to sit on.

Tommy hopped off of Mellohi and stopped himself from looking down at the ocean. He sat down on the floor of the pillar, making sure he could touch a flat surface with his hands. Mellohi seemed satisfied, so he threw himself of the ledge.

“Mellohi!” Tommy shouted, confused and surprised at this new action. He crawled towards the ledge, peering over just as the dragon flew back into sight, spinning into a majestic ball before landing. On the end of each tail were three fish, all respectively mackerel.

“Don’t look so smug,” Tommy scowled as Mellohi dangled them in the air. The dragon laughed as Tommy crawled back to the centre of the pillar and threw the fish into his lap. The Triple Stryke moved towards Tommy and curled up around him, allowing Tommy to rest his head against his side. Mellohi scorched the fish with a bit of his fire, and then they began to eat.

It was slightly undercooked, but Tommy thought he wouldn’t have to worry about that later. Hopefully. He sighed and Mellohi turned to look at him. Tommy placed a hand on his muzzle and rubbed it.

“Don’t worry, mate, I’m fine. Bit shattered after that flight—though I wasn’t doing anything other than screaming,” he said and Mellohi licked his hand. Tommy smiled and watched the sun. It seemed he had been out longer than he anticipated, with what waiting for Wilbur for most of the morning and coming out to fly.

The sky was a pasty orange, and a toned-down blue sat on top of it, nesting in it. Clouds passed like candyfloss, with the right colour for it. It all seemed so peaceful. But peaceful thoughts didn’t rest in Tommy’s mind.

He stood up, staring indignantly at the sun and then turned to face Mellohi, who was now standing and staring at Tommy was a strange fascination. Tommy moved over to Mellohi and stretched out his hand, turning away. Mellohi placed his muzzle into his palm without hesitation, Their stood at an impasse, both of their eyes closed. There was silence. Tommy shifted his hand to cup Mellohi’s cheek, and with his other hand the other side. He moved his head forward to meet Mellohi’s, and they stood, heads bowed and foreheads touching. Everything was calm.

“You are so beautiful,” Tommy whispered, so quietly even blades of grass could not pick up on it, “And I’m not going to let anything happen to you, let anyone hurt you. Ever. I promise.”

Chapter Text

Niki fought against the waves, a fight against nature itself. A protest, she liked to think. A way of telling Mother Nature to go and fuck herself.

Her day started like this every morning. Wake up. Get Ready. Go swimming. She didn’t do it because she hated it, no. Niki relished in it. The water was her comfort, her space to be free and live like she had another life. While her friends were awesome, this crappy village certainly wasn’t.

197. 198. 199. 20—

Niki gurgled bubbles and shot out of the water quickly, gasping for breath while her own breaths were quick, agitated and desperate. She stuck her thumb up into the air. She scowled and smacked the top of the water, though it did no harm to it. Sighing, Niki swam back to the shore.

Wilbur sat on an abandoned log on the beach, the ocean breeze making his hair sway though his eyes were cast down. His sat with his hands between his legs and looked up as Niki approached, handing her a towel.

“How long?” she asked as she scratched the towel against her matted hair.

“Three minutes and twenty-one seconds,” Wilbur replied blatantly and Niki scowled, “It’s better than I could do.”

“You say that every day,” Niki retorted, wrapping the towel around the back of her neck, “For someone who practises every day, I should be doing better than that.”

“It was two seconds longer than last time, if that helps.”

Niki narrowed her eyes at Wilbur, who was still staring at the ground.

“It’s just—everytime I start thinking about how well I’m doing or how I need to wait just a few more seconds, I start feeling like I’m closing up, suffocating, everything around me is getting tighter and I can’t do anything about it but shoot up and be safe. It just…it reminds me of something.”

Niki picked up the locket that sat next to her on the log and grasped it tight in her hands, the chains dangling loosely over her fingers. She looked up at Wilbur for reassurance but his face still remained blank, yet thinking. Niki sighed and kicked him gently with her foot. He looked up, eyes half closed.

“Wilbur, please don’t tell me you’re still wallowing in self-pity about Tommy?” she asked in a drone, caressing one hand through her hair, “Come on; it was one argument.”

“You didn’t see him like I did. You didn’t see his face or hear his words. You didn’t hear what he said or how angry he looked,” Wilbur mumbled, “The things he said—about his life—just made me feel even more like a bag of shit. I mean, why didn’t I ever hear about Ranboo?”

He cracked his knuckles and flicked his hair out of his eyes. Niki didn’t know whether to pat him on the back or yawn. Sure, it wasn’t good but it had been three days since their argument, and Tommy had probably gotten over it quicker than Wilbur, Niki assumed. He was a bright kid, and wasn’t one to hang onto things like Wilbur was. But that was no fault of his own.

“Maybe it’s because of other people,” Niki said and he finally looked at her, “I mean, your father isn’t very communicative, is he? When was the last time you two actually sat down and talked? Or even shared a glance. Now that I think about it, your whole family is fucked up.”

“Last time he spoke to me was to tell me he wouldn’t be staying at home that night. He barely stood in the same room for a minute, at least. Gods, but I’m not here to talk about my father; I’m here to talk about Tommy—”

“Err, No! You are here to be my friend and time me underwater,” Niki retorted, “Not to whine about your problems!”

Wilbur grumbled and Niki rolled her eyes, standing up in front of him with her hands on her hips.

“Will, he’s a kid. Their moods change like the weather. He’s bound to come around eventually. There’s no point draining your mood just to mope about an argument. Look; if it’s bothering you that much—go and talk to him.”

Wilbur looked up with bothered eyes and shook his head with a scowl.

“I can’t do that; I don’t know where he bloody is!”

Niki raised one of her eyebrows and he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Well, if I do know where he is, he’s in the woods, but I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t like me to—or anyone else for that matter. He gets all frustrated whenever I asked and always avoided the question of what he did. I dunno; whatever he does in there is his business.”

“Well, chances are whatever he’s doing in there is linked to how he’s been behaving and why he’s been acting out,” Niki stated and Wilbur shuffled on his feet, a face that looked considering but uneasy, “Just go, Will. No one’s going to stop you from going on a stroll in the woods.”

Niki opened the chain of her locket and wrapped it around her neck, moving back from the log. Wilbur stood, twisting back and forth, contemplating his decisions. Niki placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Whatever you choose to do, do it by today. Cause taking too long just sours a problem even more. Especially an apology.”

Taking away her hand, Niki nodded once at Wilbur before walking away from the beach, her feet still coated muddy sand and pebbles. The wind was getting weaker as she got further away from the sea, but it was still strong. Niki couldn’t tell if it remained from the old storm they had had or a new one that was approaching.

She only looked back once to the beach, just before entering the town square. Wilbur wasn’t there.

-------------------------------------------

Forests definitely weren’t his thing.

Wilbur could tell that by how impossible it seemed to get through the thick foliage and hanging creepers. His foot always seemed to be stuck in a hole or wrapped in dead vines. Every passing noise—be it bird or twig—made him flinch and look in a different direction, which ultimately led to him getting stuck again.

He didn’t know how Tommy managed it every day. In fact, he didn’t actually know where Tommy was. The woods were vast and mad, everywhere you looked was green and alive, but everywhere you looked was also trees. Wilbur wasn’t all that bad with directions, so he used his interior compass to direct himself to the lake he had visited a few times with Tommy and Niki. He figured he would use that as a base before deciding which way to go to look for the boy.

All of the children on the island were told to not stray to far past the village. It was drilled into their heads since infantry. If they had to go in the woods, do not go the any other side of the island; stay where they could see the town square. He knew it was because no one wanted their children to go and see 'Crazy Sam' on the other side of the island, and no one wanted him to be seen anyway. Wilbur had never been that bothered the forestry, so it was just another order about as affective as making sure to not travel outside during a storm. It was just something he did without thinking.

But his brother once had, and his mother. They sometimes used to go deep into the forest and find any flowers or edible florae that they could and come back with armfuls of plants and smiles. It was a cosy memory that would be nice to store in a jar somewhere so that Wilbur could look at it from time to time. Even when his mother had died, his twin still went to the woods, only this time he was solitary.

Well, he always had his sword with him—and Wilbur had thought he cherished that more than any person—so he wasn’t completely alone. The only change was that he came home angry, humid and about as responsive as a clam. Wilbur supposed that was where he went to do his training unaided and alone, but he did feel for the trees that ended up with scars instead of smooth trunks.

If there weren’t any people to fight, his brother would go to wreck nature instead. He supposed that was what he had always been like; especially now he was a dragon hunter. Wilbur sometimes found himself disgusted when his brother came home and flung a head or body of a dragon across the dining table. He was the only one, though, because his twin would receive a pat on the back, a hearty praise and a feats. It didn’t matter to their father that their house had walls decorated with skulls or wings or death. No, it was a victory. The only time everyone ate together was when Technoblade returned, and even then Wilbur was still ignored.

Maybe it was his own fault. He didn’t hunt, fight, maim or was very strong. He obsessed over music instead of battles and his friends over his enemies. His mother had once understood him, been there when his father hadn’t. But she hadn’t lived to see the men her boys had become, or the tyrant her husband had.

And that was his fault.

-------------------------------------

Eventually, after what felt like he was clamouring his way over every trunk, flower and rock on the island, Wilbur saw the distant shape of the crater that held the lake. He sighed in relief and cautiously made his way over to it, watching the floor very carefully.

The lake looked about the same as it had before, save for a few extra weeds and a strange looking scratch mark on the giant rocks. Wilbur slid down the hills that led to it, holding out his hands in front of him. When he made his way down, his feet tumbled slightly but he held his ground. He held his hand above his eyes to block out the sun and looked around the lake. It seemed empty. Almost. Wilbur strode over towards the lake and scooped up a handful of fresh water. He drank and washed his face, removing the dirt he had acquired after falling. It all seemed too peaceful.

And yet, a quiet clicking noise could be heard behind Wilbur, ever so slightly closer. His eyes narrowed and his face contorted to confusion. Wilbur turned around, but he would’ve wished he hadn’t.

A large, pointed dragon sprang out from the undergrowth, sending Wilbur flying against the back of the crater with its tail. Wilbur shrieked loudly, stumbling back but he barely had time to move before it was rushing towards him.

It came, glaring menacingly, its tail clicking and wings spread wide. A loud, piercing roar emitted from it, one of the loudest noises Wilbur had ever heard. It’s tail—or should he say tails—swirled together to create a bulkier one. It roared one last time, glaring even harder, before sending its tail straight towards Wilbur’s chest.

Maybe, he heard a voice calling out before it came. Maybe he might see his mother on the other side.

Chapter Text

Wilbur had experienced a lot of shock in his life.

The first—and biggest—had been when his mother died. He still remembered the cracklings of flames and smell of smoke through his sinuses, tearing him up from the inside. Large shapes in the sky with great flapping wings and prey entwined—dead—in their claws. His gaze still stuck on the horizon, still watching, waiting, for his mother to return. Her screams playing over and over in his mind like a tortured note at the beginning of a song someone kept playing for him. A hand smacking against his shoulder—grasping at him to wake up and move; his brother calling through tears for them to leave this wretched place. A shattered voice breaking the drums in his ears, breaking his sense of life; angry, irate and tormented.

“It was all YOUR fault! Why didn’t you do ANYTHING?!”

It played more than once; two voices melted together to create a monster of his own mistakes. Wilbur had never taken a moment to truly question if he had been to blame for that horrific night, one that rooted up out of nowhere and ruined so many lives. So many children left without any parents or just one. And Wilbur was unfortunate enough to have one. But in the future, he would realise he ended up an orphan anyway.

His next big shock was not long after, when he was still in the recovery phase of his grief. The one person he needed most, the one person he wanted to care, ended up being the person to walk away.

His brother had always just been there for him. They were twins, though Wilbur was younger by a minute or two. Technoblade had practically been attached to him by the hip, and was Wilbur’s best friend. Always. But their mother’s death had split their conjunction like a guillotine, at least with Technoblade. Something changed inside of him—something snapped. As soon as he could, the boy learnt to fight. How to maim. How to torture. How to kill. He became unresponsive, unwavering and impervious to anyone around him. He became smarter, faster, stronger, and more of a killer than Wilbur knew he had in him. He changed from a boy who collected dandelions with his mother to a man who wore skulls to show off his fresh kills.

Wilbur didn’t see his brother—his twin—when he looked at Technoblade. He saw a stranger, one who had adorned a mask and different name. The Blade. Captain of the L’Manberg Army, Hunter of Dragons and Destroyer of Men. A stranger is what he became.

So Wilbur treated him like a stranger. Whenever he returned, Wilbur ignored him and when he did have to acknowledge him, he was polite at best. But when was he ever acknowledged?

Another shock—though not as surprising as the rest—was his father’s extraordinary and staunch hate towards Wilbur. His own son.

When his wife died, Chief Philza was quick to grab Wilbur and shake him around, screaming over and over into Wilbur’s ears he couldn’t answer nor could shake away himself. So what was his solution? Cast his son out of his life, out of his mind and pretend his didn’t exist. Focus on one son—his ONLY son— and build him up to be the best that he could be. Make him stronger, smarter, faster; make him the weapon he was always meant to be. Make him a hero, whose then actions cold be justified by his rank, no matter how cruel they could be. Make him tough, create no emotional attachments to anything, every enemy is weak, every enemy is a conspirator, every enemy is below him.

And Wilbur? Who was Wilbur? His son? Why, he only had one son, and his name was The Blade. Captain of the L’Manberg Army, Hunter of Dragons and Destroyer of Men. A hero, they would tell you. One who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the world to the ground if it was an order from his superior. But he had been conditioned like that, manipulated to agree with everything the Chief said and did, not batting an eyelid towards his consequences.

But that was just a small issue Wilbur had been meaning to get off his chest.

Yes, he had felt shocked left right and centre. Sometimes it was big, sometimes it was small. But he never expected a dragon to be coming full force towards him, ready to kill him. He never expected it to be in a small, random lake in the woods when he had been looking for his friend. That would be a rather glum way to go out. If he had to go out at all, it would have to be bright, dramatic and ruining everyone else’s expectations. That would be his final ‘fuck you’ to the world.

----------------------------------------

Wilbur’s vision was blurred and his ears were ringing. His eyes flickered between open and closed, a red shape stood poised in front of him. A buzz of noise shouted in the distance, but he couldn’t make out what it was at all. The shape in front of him moved away vaguely—releasing Wilbur from up against the stone wall. Grunting, he pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes.

His vision became clear and the buzzing in his ears began to fade away. Wilbur looked up and saw the dragon in front of him. He remembered now. It stood, tails aimed towards him and forever growling, glaring and ready to attack. Wilbur scrambled backwards on his hands, his breathing quick and heavy. He couldn’t process the being in front of him, how it stood barely ten feet away, how it was looking right at him.

There was a dragon in the cove, and it was trying to kill him.

The dragon roared once more, stepping towards Wilbur again. Wilbur screamed, backing away and throwing his hands over his head. The dragon clicked again, a rattle in its tails and it snapped it’s jaws. Wilbur curled up against himself. He heard one fatal crack, and then he thought he must be dead.

“Mellohi!” something was shouting, getting closer to him. He must be dead, Wilbur thought, because why would someone be shouting the name of a song at a time like this? Wilbur poked his head out of his knees and glanced around. The dragon was standing somewhere else, thrashing and roaring against something, as if it was being held back. Wilbur felt different parts of his body, his breathing quick and his hands shaky. Was he dead?

He stood up slowly and gulped. His feet shuffled carefully along the ground as he side stepped around a rock, peering at the dragon. It was thrashing and roaring loudly, clearly agitated but something was standing in front of it, saying words Wilbur could not hear.

“I must be dead or at the very least crazy,” Wilbur muttered and took a deep breath before placing one foot in front of the other, moving closer to the dragon. He was insane; the beast could bite his head off at any moment. Not to mention burning, clawing, slicing, stabbing, hitting and killing him with any parts of its body.

“Easy boy, easy! Mellohi, settle down!” the thing was shouting and Wilbur saw two hands fly up to the air in front of the dragons face. Then, he peered too far than he should, and Wilbur saw Tommy in front of the dragon.

Yep, he was dead. There was no way Tommy would be here—IN FRONT OF A FUCKING DRAGON ALIVE—unless Wilbur had died and was seeing a very hallucinogenic place of his death before taking his place in Valhalla. Unless…

“Tommy?” Wilbur shouted, catching the boy’s eye as he glanced over. Wrong move. The dragon roared like an avalanche on a mountain and came rushing towards Wilbur all too quickly.

“NO!” Tommy cried out and rushed towards Wilbur, sliding under a rock before slipping out in front of the dragon. Wilbur cried out and held his arm towards Tommy, one last attempt to save him. But there was no need. The dragon came to a sudden halt in front of Tommy, growling and snarling at Wilbur over the boy’s shoulder. Wilbur staggered back, his eyes wide and heart beating faster than it should—or he thought it would that day.

“Easy Mellohi; calm down mate!” Tommy cried to the beast, holding his hands up to the air to calm the beast. It stopped snapping its jaws but still glared at Wilbur, “That’s it bud, it’s okay. He’s a friend. I won’t let him hurt you; ever.”

Tommy took a look over his shoulder and scowled at Wilbur. The dragon’s temper subsided and its wings collapsed, but its face was still contorted in fury at Wilbur and it kept close to Tommy’s side. Almost as if it was protecting the boy.

“Wilbur, what the fuck are you doing here?” Tommy snapped, his face also one of rage.

“You’re having a go at me? That thing is the one that attacked me, not the other way around!” Wilbur cried and the dragon growled louder. Tommy placed one hand on its side and glared at Wilbur.

“You scared him.”

“I scared him?” Wilbur asked incredulously, backing away from the both of them.

“He isn’t used to people. It was only ever me and—” Tommy stopped, took a moment and then glared back up at Wilbur.

“For fucks sake, Will, you’ve ruined everything! No one was supposed to know about him! Why the fuck did you even come here for?”

“Don’t shout at me; I was looking for you to apologise to you! I didn’t realise you’d be harbouring a vile thing like that in the lake!”

Tommy’s fists curled and he made five irate steps towards Wilbur and poked his index finger in his face.

“Don’t you ever say that again!” he cried, “EVER! You have no idea about any of these things! You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Wilbur stood in bewilderment as the boy screamed at him, standing in utter confusion about why he would defend the beast. Tommy glared and then walked back to stand by the dragon’s side, rubbing it comfortably. Wilbur looked down at his toes before trying to seize the awkward silence.

“How long have you been doing this?” he asked softly. Tommy looked back at him.

“Doing what?”

“Like, being with this dragon. Keeping it a secret and doing it by yourself. It mustn’t be healthy.”

“I wasn’t alone,” Tommy stated quickly, his eyes only forward at the dragon, “But for a time, probably almost a year.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened, and he suddenly felt pity for the poor boy in front of him. A year of being by himself with the beast, a year of trying to make sure no one knew about it. It would’ve always cracked eventually. Wilbur saw the boys shoulder soften and guessed his expression did the same.

“What do you mean you weren’t alone?” Wilbur asked gently. He took a few steps forward closer to the boy, avoiding the glares the dragon gave him. Tommy stood still for a moment before moving away to stand against a solitary rock. The dragon followed.

“I spent a lot of my time learning with Sam,” he said blatantly and Wilbur narrowed his eyes.

“You mean Sam…like Crazy Sam who lives on the other side of the island?” he asked and Tommy snarled.

“He’s not crazy!” he snapped, “He's sane and smart and...and he was my friend. People just didn’t like him because he knew the truth about dragons. Because he didn’t conform to their standards. Don’t believe everything you hear down in the village, Wilbur. But I guess not believing it gets you a one-way ticket to Valhalla.”

There was a repressed anger in that line; Wilbur could tell. He knew all about it after all. He could tell it was a sensitive topic for Tommy, so he disregarded it. The dragon made a soft purring and nudged its head on Tommy’s arm. Tommy looked up at it and smiled, scratching it under the chin. It was the first time he had seen the boy smile in days. Tommy looked up at Wilbur and sighed.

“Well, I guess I can’t do anything now you’re here. But if you tell one fucking person; be it the Chief, Niki, your brother, anyone—I’ll singlehandedly kill you where you sleep. Forget everything we’ve done or said or shared; this dragon is the most important thing in the world to me, and I’m not letting anyone take him away from me. Get it?” Wilbur nodded and Tommy sighed.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

Wilbur thought he was talking to him before realising he was staring at the dragon and rubbing its neck.

“Me hurt him? But he’s the one with three bloody tails! And claws and teeth and wings! He’s the dangerous one.”

“Dragons aren’t dangerous, Wilbur!” Tommy scowled and Wilbur took in a deep breath and rolled his head, taking in all his energy so he could finally deliver the blow.

“Oh, they aren’t dangerous are they?” Wilbur spat and Tommy closed his eyes, taking in a deep huff.

“I know what you’re going to say—”

“Dragons aren’t dangerous? Would you believe it? Well, I guess all the towns they burn and people they kill was just a bit of peaceful fun! I mean, of course they aren’t dangerous! It’s not like they, I dunno, KILLED MY FUCKING MOTHER!”

“Wilbur, calm down,” Tommy said, putting out his hand but Wilbur smacked it away. Mellohi growled and shifted his tail.

“They KILLED her, Tommy, THEY TOOK HER AWAY! They left me and Techno motherless, and fatherless too, it felt like. Are you really going to tell me they aren’t dangerous? THEY KILLED YOUR FAMILY TOO! Aren’t you an orphan too?”

Wilbur gasped and his breathing was irate. His fists were clenched, his nails burrowing through his skin and red raw. Tommy grimaced and met his eyes.

“You don’t know if she’s dead,” he whispered.

“What?” Wilbur scoffed, “Of course she’s fucking dead! Getting taken away by dragons has a very low chance of survival—be them friendly or not. You can’t eat, sleep, barely get fresh water and probably end up on a stray island. Hate to tell you Tommy, but they probably ate her. Most dragons have natural instincts, and are wild beasts.”

“Don’t believe everything your father tells you, Wil,” Tommy snapped and Wilbur narrowed his eyes, “You think the village truly knows things that are out of their range? Men fear what they cannot control; and dragons are beyond their capability.”

Wilbur stood, shoulders tense and mouth agape. He went to speak but bit back on his tongue. Tommy shook his head sadly and turned to face the dragon, rubbing it’s wings attentively. Wilbur sighed and rubbed his neck before deciding to break the silence.

“Why does it have three tails anyway? It’s a bit…strange.”

“That’s because he’s a Triple Stryke,” Tommy said simply and Wilbur frowned.

“A what?”

“Urgh, forget it. I neglected to remember that you know nothing.”

“Well, I do know—”

“About dragons, Will,” Tommy said and Wilbur shuffled on his feet, “Hey, for introduction sake; this is Mellohi.”

Wilbur looked up at the dragon with a curious look in his eye. The dragon seemed calmer now, and was as curious about him as Wilbur was. Wilbur chuckled.

“Mellohi, huh?” he questioned and Tommy blushed. Wilbur moved over to him and ruffled the kid’s hair.

“Big ol’ softie,” he said and Tommy scowled, whacking him playfully. The dragon—Mellohi, he should call it now—growled, but more in a confused way. Tommy laughed and Wilbur smiled softly. Then he bit his lip and thought.

“So, does no one else really not know? Not Tubbo? Not Ranboo? Not Schlatt?” Wilbur asked and Tommy’s brows furrowed.

“Of course not. Why would I get them involved, get them in danger?” he asked and Wilbur shrugged, “Anyway, they’d probably be more harm to Mellohi than anything else. I mean, you should hear how Tubbo talks about dragons! Makes my blood boil. And if I ever told Ranboo, he’d soon be telling Tubbo before I could. And don’t get me started on Schlatt.”

“No, no; I get it,” Wilbur said and bumped shoulders with him, “If I had a secret like this, I certainly wouldn’t be telling my father, definitely not my brother or anyone else. I might’ve told Niki, after a while, but I certainly wouldn’t tell you, cause I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

Tommy stared at his feet, his lips squeezed shut and hands shaking, Mellohi wrapped his wing around the boy and nudged him with his muzzle. Wilbur placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and he looked up at him.

“You don’t have to worry, Toms; you never have to be alone with this again. And I will never, ever, betray you. I promise,” Wilbur whispered, and staggered back as Tommy slammed into him, arms wrapped around his waist and his head placed in his shoulder. Wilbur smiled softly and wrapped his own arms around the sniffling boy, rubbing his back gently as he wept.

Wilbur’s eyes were averted up, towards Mellohi and their eyes locked. Mellohi stood, head tilted like a bird and staring him down. His eyes were a magnificent purple, daring but calm and were examining him carefully. Wilbur nodded moderately and mouthed towards the dragon,

“I’m never going to let anything happen to him. I promise.”

Mellohi considered him for a moment before doing what Wilbur thought was a nod and wandered off towards the lake. That was when Wilbur finally understood that the both of them were on the exact same mission.

--------------------------------------------

“So, what exactly does any of this mean?”

Wilbur was holding a very thick book—The Book of Dragons, Tommy called it—but he couldn’t understand most of what it contained. Too many big words and scraggly handwriting. Tommy, who was making some adjustments to something he had been making, looked up and huffed.

“It’s not gibberish, Wilbur. Look hard enough at the handwriting and eventually they’ll turn into words,” he said simply and Wilbur shook his head.

“How’d you even read it?”

“Well for one, I look at the words and read them. But for real, I was with Sam long enough to start reading his handwriting. For another, it’s not supposed to be easy to read. We don’t want everyone learning the secrets. And besides, I thought it would be good for you to actually learn something instead of wasting my time.”

“How am I wasting your time?” Wilbur asked and Tommy raised one brow and put his hands on his hips.

“Will, c’mon; you know nothing about dragons, nothing about Mellohi, nothing about flying and you don’t even have a dragon of your own! While I try to make things, you tend to break them and bringing your guitar with you into the woods is pretty sus, so there isn’t even anything for you to do,” Tommy stated and Wilbur sighed.

“Yeah, I guess that’s kinda true.”

Wilbur had been keeping Tommy in the woods for a week or two, and had been keeping his secret for the same amount. It wasn’t hard to keep a secret when there was no one to keep it from, so he was feeling better at it than Tommy. But the only person he did feel bad about was Niki. Sure, he’d still been at the beach with her in the mornings, but he snuck off as quickly as he could so he could meet Tommy. He didn’t know why he had to constantly go to the forest too, but Wilbur just had a feeling that it was right, no matter how much Tommy complained about it being better when he hadn’t been there.

Sometimes he even got there too early, earlier than Tommy himself and would be left standing awkwardly with Mellohi as they both waited in the clearing for him. Well, he couldn’t really be awkward with an animal, but he could tell the dragon still had some lingering feelings about him, and he didn’t feel any different. Tommy had more of a connection with the dragon than anyone or anything else, and he couldn’t really wrap his head around it. Tommy had told him that if he ever had a dragon, he’d understand. Wilbur had kept his mouth shut not to protest, but he didn’t think much of having a dragon. Sure, Mellohi wasn’t all that dangerous, but were other dragons? Not likely. He wasn’t about to forgive a whole species because of one specimen, one that could very well be an outlier.

“Don’t sweat it. And hey; at least you get to learn about all these different dragons. That’s like, a whole branch of knowledge not many people have,” Tommy exclaimed as he knotted a leather string around a piece of steel. Wilbur sat on his knees to get a better look, but Tommy was hunched over his creation. Wilbur sighed and flicked through the pages of the book, scanning the pictures of the dragons and their names. He'd seen a few that fascinated him—like a Stormcutter or Changewing—but other than that they were just regular, deadly dragons.

“Flightmare, Skrill, Crimson Goregutter, Whispering Death—what…Screaming Death? Okay, what in Thor's name are half of these and why are their names so…deathy?” Wilbur cried and Tommy turned to frown at him.

“It’s just the species name; I didn’t come up with it. Besides, some of them are cool. I mean; Stormcutters, Deathgrippers, Bewilderbeasts, Singetails! So many awesome dragons, and they’re just the bigger ones! Mostly…I mean, imagine seeing a Death up close—Red, Green or Purple, that is. Or the King of the Dragons! Man, I’d love to see him.”

“Wait, wait, wait, the King of Dragons?” Wilbur asked and Tommy grinned.

“Yeah, Sam told me about him. Apparently it’s one dragon who can command all others and gain respect from them, but can also control them. He said a dragon can become the King by defeating the previous King. He said it used to be a Bewilderbeast—because of their size y’know—but it’s either taken by another dragon or left open,” Tommy explained, grinning with fascination for a topic who was awfully fond of.

“So, any dragon can become King? Even Mellohi?” Wilbur asked and Tommy narrowed his eyes.

“Well, I don’t think so. Usually a challenger faces the previous King before actually becoming King himself, but if there isn’t a King to challenge, I don’t know how he becomes it. I guess he’d have to do something like, I dunno—”

“—Gaining respect from everyone else in order to be recognized as a true larder,” Wilbur finished sourly. Tommy shrugged, oblivious.

“Yeah, probably something like that.”

Wilbur kept his hand in the book and hunched back against the rock he was sat up against. Gaining respect in order to be recognized as a true leader…that was a concept he wasn’t blind to. His father had always been a believer of the only way to lead is to be respected, and to gain that respect no matter the cost. His brother was like that too, but more so gaining in no matter what.

For years, Technoblade had been in line to become Chief, and had been the heir since he was born. Everyone believed in him, chose him, pushed him to the ‘right path’. Wilbur remembered their secret conversations at night, where his twin shared his hardships and disliking to the role. He had never been one for democracy and leading. Wilbur even knew then he was an anarchist as heart.

The day Technoblade changed was the day he threw away his future as Chief. Wilbur saw the recognition in his father’s eyes as he did so, a memory reminiscent of this hidden behind them. After that, Wilbur was claimed as heir to the island, but he did not receive so much as a pat on the back of training like his brother. He had not been respected as an heir, nor had he gained it over the years. It was that simple fact that cast him down as being a true leader, like all the others who came before him. It separated him from his father, his brother, even his mother had been respected. It split him from his pack.

Maybe he wasn’t so different from these dragons after all. Maybe they were both as innocent as one another, and simply vying for the world to accept them as they were.

Chapter Text

Niki could tell there was something wrong with Wilbur, something different from what was usually wrong with him. He had begun to act strange; sneaking around, ignoring questions, leaving her not long before they began. In all fairness, he had begun to act a lot like Tommy.

Something wasn’t right.

And as usual, Niki found it was her job to fix it. She watched Wilbur one day as he scurried out of sight from anyone else after Niki’s morning swim, looking as suspicious as can be; tiptoeing, crawling, even hopping o a barrel and pretending to be reading a strip of parchment. Niki watched him with second hand embarrassment as he did all of this in the middle of the town square, looking over his shoulder every few seconds and glancing round. Once he was done pratting around, he headed off into the forest, taking a route that ran past the hill where his house sat.

The exact same route Tommy took.

Niki watched him with narrowed eyes before brandishing his axe and following route, taking the shaded option behind the huts instead of flaunting through the town. Making sure no one actually saw her, Niki headed into the woods herself, watching the ground for tracks as she did so.

If Wilbur was doing something he shouldn’t, then she was bound to catch him out.

--------------------------------------

Tommy was getting rather used to Wilbur accompanying him on his daily trips to the forest. At first he had been rather annoying, but now he was staring to ease in a bit more. It was also easier on his schedule, as Tommy no longer had to worry about meeting the man after being with Mellohi. Mellohi, who had taken a while to trust Wilbur, but was now letting him in touching distance. It was a good start.

Wilbur had been in on the two of them for almost three weeks, and so far he hadn’t conveyed to anyone about Tommy’s secret. But despite that, he was always insisting that Tommy tell Tubbo and Ranboo about Mellohi.

“C’mon Tommy; they’re the closest people to you! Literally and emotionally! You live with them; don’t you think they deserve to know why you’re always sneaking away or hiding information?”

“Do you think they deserved to be killed and tortured if someone finds out? Do you think they deserve to get hurt because of me? It’s better if they don’t know, and never find out.”

“Then how long are you going to keep this up for? Another month? Another year? The rest of your life?”

“If I have to, then yes!” Tommy exclaimed, “If it means they’re safe, then does my satisfactory of life really matter? The needs of the many outweighs the needs of the few; I’m the few. I’m just one kid who needs to make a decision to keep everything peaceful, to keep everything as it was. I mean, you weren’t even supposed to know, till you wandered too far into the woods.”

“But that was an unknowing move for the better. At least I can support you instead of being alone. At least I can protect you if something goes awry,” Wilbur said and Tommy laughed.

“Protect me? C’mon Will; I’m the one with the dragon. Besides, I thought you were the twin who couldn’t hold a sword.”

Wilbur went to protest when a snap sounded beyond the trees. Tommy jumped up, grasping the contraption he had been working on and moved hesitantly towards Mellohi with it wrapped in his hands. It was a large shield, the front covered in shimmering red and white dragon scales, all standing flat against each other and a medium sized dome shaped piece of metal in the middle of the shield. A small painting of a dragon’s head and three long tails sprouting from a different side of its head, all tails ending with a barbed point. Tommy held the handle behind the front and held it above his face. A small button sat opposite his thumb, simply waiting to be pressed

Wilbur stood up from the floor and followed suite of Tommy, his hand hovering over the dagger in his belt. The snap crackling against, just behind a line of rocks above the crater. Mellohi growled, his tails rattling and wrapping together. Tommy’s thumb lingered over the small button, and just as the figure jumped out from the pile of rocks he pressed it. The dome shape in the middle of the shield opened up and separated two have son either side like a mouth. A small dart flew out of the shield and raced through the air towards the rocks. The figure jumped out of the way and lunged behind a log. Mellohi roared and flew towards the log, snapping and swiping at the suspect. Then, the dragon stopped and tilted it’s head in confusion. He wrapped his tail around the culprit and flew back towards Tommy, throwing the thing to the ground before dropping to the ground.

A small squirrel sat quivering at Tommy’s feet, squeaking and shuffling around the ground. Mellohi purred and knocked it over with his tail, laughing as it cried out. Tommy sighed and rubbed his forehead, turning to look at Wilbur in exasperation. Wilbur slid his dagger back down in its holster and groaned.

“For the love of Thor; all of that for a squirrel?”

Tommy scowled and booted the vermin to the other side of the lake. It ran off quickly after that and Mellohi licked his lips.

“I thought it was a person. Not my fault the thing sees to be strong enough to break twigs when it walks over them,” he muttered and walked over to pick up the dart he had shot. It lay on the ground, not broken and barely looking like it had been shot. It was the length of Tommy’s index finger and had three lines of feather protruding from the back and a pattern of red and white with a single line of green twisting around the wood. A thin metal needle protrude from a thin steel cannister and Tommy picked it up from the wooden side.

“What’s that?” Wilbur asked.

“A dart that has Triple Stryke venom in it. I was able to get some from Mellohi to make them—without harming him, of course. They have three unique venoms, one in each tail and I made three unique darts to have each one. Green line means its numbs opponents, purple means it’s hallucinogenic and red means it makes their blood burn. Naturally, this ones numbs.”

“How about the shield?” Wilbur asked again and Tommy grinned, stroking the front and placing the drat back inside, closing the lid.

“Front is made from discarded dragon scales—Mellohi’s naturally. Dragons shed a lot—like a lot a lot. I found them everywhere on the ground, so id decided to use them instead of letting them give away our location. Been working on it for a while, but I think a few more adjustment will make it perfect.” Mellohi growled in agreement and Tommy scratched him under the chin. Then, the dragon looked up and snarled.

“Well, wasn’t that a whole lot of discourse for nothing?” someone asked and Tommy snapped his head up at atop the walls of the crater. A person was sitting on a stool of rock above them, sharpening their axe and looking down in glee. That person was Niki.

She smiled at them and jumped down from the hill, landing gracefully on the ground. Mellohi snarled and unfurled his tails, rattling and shaking in anger. Niki stared at him in shock for a moment before smiling softly.

“So, this is what has been keeping the two of you away,” she said and as his axe dangled back and forth in her limp hand, Mellohi growled and bared his teeth.

“Woah, easy Mellohi. She won’t hurt you,” Tommy whispered and placed his hands on the dragon’s face. Mellohi growled and lowered his wings, eyeing Niki carefully. He’d had to meet a lot of people in a short time, and it wasn’t good when he didn’t trust other people all that well.

“Niki, what in Thor’s name are you doing here? How did you find us?” Tommy asked, more in uncertainty than anger as he had been with Wilbur. Speaking of Wilbur, he looked at the man but he only shrugged back.

“I followed you, of course. It isn’t hard when Wilbur tap dances across the town square, looking more suspicious than he’s trying to be. Plus, if you really didn’t want anyone finding you, you should have covered your tracks,” Niki explained simply. Tommy scowled at Wilbur but he only frowned. Niki smiled and dropped her axe to the ground. Mellohi’s eyes went wide in uncertainty and purred as Niki approached. Tommy went to protest but went silent as Niki came close to Mellohi, rubbing his side and scratching his chin like they were best mates. Mellohi growled softly but let Niki touch him, trust in his eyes. Tommy raised his eyebrows and stuck his shield to his back.

“How…how did you do that so quickly?” he asked and Niki smiled at him, the kind, soft smile he recognized, not the devilish one she had shown atop the cliff.

“It’s called thoughtfulness, Tommy. I’m quite familiar with it, and know how to read a situation. Plus, animals have always liked me. It’s even better when you show them peace quickly,” Niki explained calmly and trailed her hand away from Mellohi, “So, this is the reason why the two of you have been acting funny, right?”

Tommy nodded, his cheeks reddening and Niki sighed.

“Gods, what have you two got yourself into? Taming a dragon? While it might look like a good act, it certainly isn’t to anyone else. If the people in the village knew, they’d be after this guy’s head not long after, and then you’d be the ones getting publicly hung.”

“Which is why you should trot off and pretend you know nothing, right?” Wilbur said quickly and Niki gasped a laugh.

“You’re aren’t getting rid of me that quick! Besides, we’re friends—and I’m sure I could help you guys out in ways you couldn’t imagine.”

“And Will, you can’t order her around and decide if she should go,” Tommy said and Wilbur scoffed.

“You aren’t seriously siding with Niki? You actually want her around? Not trying to be rude, of course, but you didn’t want me around when I found out!”

“Yeah, but you’re practically useless Will. What’re you going to do, play Mellohi a song? At least Niki has some fight in her. But, I dunno…”

“Oh come on Tommy—"

“Gentlemen, please! As much as I’m flattered about how much you’re squabbling over me, no one gets to say what I do. Only me. And fact is, I’m a part of this now—whatever this actually is—so you better include me in it,” Niki stated and Tommy frowned.

“But he’s my dragon!”

“And it’s my word to the Chief, isn’t it?” Niki snapped and Tommy blinked, holding back his tongue. She certainly did have some fight in her, “Listen, I don’t want to cause a ruckus. I came here because I was worried about my two best friends and what they were doing. And-and this is incredible! I mean, a dragon that is tamed, a dragon that isn’t deadly! This goes against everything the village told us, and I want to be a part of taking them down, no matter how it is. This village is shit, and living here is only fun when I’m with my friends. So you can bet I’m going to be with them now!”

Tommy and Wilbur exchanged a look, and Mellohi looked at them too, eyes wide and curious at the discourse going on between the three humans. Finally, Tommy sighed and grinned at Niki.

“Then, I guess you’re a part of this now,” he said and Niki grinned, “But, be warned. Any danger coming with this is entirely accepted by you, since you’re in on this. Knowing a dragon is deadly business, especially when an entire island is against you. There will be absolutely no telling of anyone else, no matter what—understand/ We’re here to protect Mellohi, and we’ll never accomplish that if he’s hunted by an entire island—"understand?”

Niki nodded and held out her hand.

“Then let’s swear on it. No matter what, we’ll protect this dragon with our lives, we’ll protect each other with our lives, and we’ll stay against this island no matter what,” Niki declared and Tommy placed his hand on top of hers. They both turned to Wilbur, who stood with his arms folded. He sighed and walked over to them, placing his hand on the pile. Mellohi purred and dangled his middle tail over the pile. Tommy chuckled and looked up at him.

“I swear,” he said.

“I swear,” Niki said.

“I swear,” Wilbur said.

Mellohi roared towards the sky, shaking trees and birds and bushes. The three of them exchanged a grin and stared towards the dragon as he flew into the air, diving and spinning and being as free as he could be.

How anyone could want to hurt him was beyond Tommy, but he would make it his life mission to ensure that never happened.

-----------------------------------------

And yet somehow, he had been persuaded by both Wilbur and Niki a week later to get Tubbo and Ranboo. To take them to the lake and show them Mellohi.

Tommy had been against it, of course, but they had formed against him and said it into his ears so much he had shouted his agreement in their ears before they finally shut up. He didn’t understand why they had to rope the two boys into their business at all. It just meant more danger for the two of them and more people to join in on the conspiracy. Which meant less time for just him and Mellohi to be together; like Tommy had always wanted. No more flying or bonding or new discoveries. Mellohi, Tommy, Wilbur, Niki and now Tubbo and Ranboo.

It also made no sense for a different reason; Tubbo and Ranboo’s allegiance. Tubbo was a strong supporter of ‘all dragons should die’ and Ranboo…in all fairness, Tommy didn’t know what Ranboo though, but it would probably mimic Tubbo. If Tubbo so much as laid one eye on Mellohi, he would rush off to go and tell Schlatt or the Chief, bringing to an end their lives and their mission.

Yet here Tommy was, walking towards his house on a Sunday, going to collect Tubbo and Ranboo so they could learn about Mellohi.

“Tommy—they’re your best friends!” Wilbur had said an hour earlier, “In fact, you could probably say you were as close as brothers! You live with them; they’re bound to have known that there’s something different with you. How many arguments have the three of you had since you found Mellohi?”

A lot.

“Exactly! It’s all because of your lack of communication. I mean, how long did it take for us to find out—and that was on accident.”

Niki had also agreed with Wilbur, putting Tommy’s hopes ultimately down the drain. It had only been a week since she had found out, and she was already calling the shots.

“I just think it’s for the best. Once all of your allies know, it will be easier to act and make sure no one else knows. I mean, I know, and things have already gotten easier for you. And no matter what Tubbo thinks, he’s your best friend, and he would never betray you, Tommy.”

And with that kind tone, Tommy found himself walking through the woods, back to his house, and into a room full of Tubbo and Ranboo.

They were both sat at the dining table, talking (well, Tubbo was), and looked up at him as Tommy walked through the door, fists clenched and chest beating. This would probably be the hardest persons to tell the truth to, because they would be the first.

Ranboo’s eyes went wide as he approached and turned towards him, “Back. So. Soon?” he asked and Tommy shrugged.

“Um, yeah. There’s actually something I need to tell you. BOTH of you,” he added as Tubbo began walking away. Tubbo turned and narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, really?” he questioned, folding his arms, “Spill.”

“Well, um, I actually can’t say. Yet, that is, um, I need to take you somewhere first,” Tommy said, sweat breaking through his palms.

“And where would that be?” Tubbo asked, putting an arm out in front of Ranboo as he went to move towards Tommy. Tommy hated how Tubbo treated him like a stranger, blocking Ranboo off from speaking to him like he was a Viking offering to take him for a ride in his boat.

“The forest,” Tommy growled, “Don’t worry; it’s certainly worth your time.”

“Oh, going to show us what you’ve been working on for almost the past YEAR?” Tubbo snapped, emphasising on the year.

“Yes, actually. I’m sure it will blow you away,” Tommy scowled and walked back to the door. He paused ad looked back at the two of them, who were exchanging a look.

“Fine,” Tubbo sighed, “Let me get my boots. You too, Boo.”

Tommy breathed a sigh of relief as they put on their shoes and listened to him, which Tommy though Tubbo wouldn’t. Phase One was working perfectly.

---------------------------------------

Niki had come up with a perfect plan to lure the two boys to the lake and show them Mellohi. Wilbur had to admit, he couldn’t have come up with one like it.

Phase One of the plan was for Tommy to go to his house and convince Tubbo and Ranboo to come to the woods. Ranboo would be easy, he had said, but Tubbo would be sour and hard to contend. Phase Two was for him to lead them to the lake in the woods, but take their time. In that time, Niki and Wilbur would lead Mellohi away a distance so that the boys wouldn’t be able to see him, and pay to Thor he would stay in one spot. Tommy had insisted he was an intelligent dragon, but Wilbur wasn’t so sure. Phase Three was Tommy bringing them to the lake, where they would see Niki and Wilbur, and then after a minute or two (once they were in the crater) Mellohi. After that, the three of them just had to explain everything and convince Tubbo not to go the Chief. Pretty easy, if you asked Niki. Annoying, if you asked Tommy. Better pray to Thor, if you asked Wilbur. Wilbur and Niki were now in Phase Two, which was trying to lead Mellohi away from the lake for a while. As much as Tommy claimed he was smart, the dragon certainly wasn’t acting like it now. Even with Niki around, Mellohi was being difficult with being moved. He didn’t seem to quite understand what he was supposed to do, as fault of Wilbur. Communicating with animals wasn’t a skill he possessed, quite frankly.

“C’mon boy, easy now,” Niki muttered, holding out a fish to guide the Triple Stryke towards them. Mellohi watched it with eager eyes, taking one step at a time. Wilbur held a basket of fish over his shoulder, making sure the lid was strapped shut.

“So, do we just leave him here and hope for the best?” Wilbur asked as the neared a cave. Niki was focused on Mellohi, but her brows furrowed.

“He’ll have whole basket of fish to eat—he won’t be done that fast. And if he’s really as smart as Tommy says, then he wont have any trouble following orders. When we’re ready, he’s bound to come back for Tommy, and that’s when Phase Three is complete, ” she explained and Wilbur nodded.

“Right.”

They entered the cave, which was quite small but perfect to keep a Triple Stryke in for a few minutes. Wilbur placed down the basket at the back of the cave and unclipped the straps. Mellohi paid no attention to him, only the fish dangling in Niki’s hands.

“That’s it, now; when you’re done, and only when you’re done—you come back to the lake to find Tommy? Understand?” Niki asked the dragon. His head moved up slightly and then down, and Niki threw the fish to the back of the cave. Mellohi stormed past him and towards the fish.

“Come on!” Niki shouted and ran out of the cave. Wilbur followed suite, only looking back once to make sure the dragon wasn’t following them. He wasn’t. Naturally, food had pushed out his natural instincts to devour anything in front of him, leading his thoughts away from the two humans running away from him.

----------------------------------------------

“Tommy, how far are we actually going?” Tubbo whined, and Tommy held back the temptation to punch him. His plan to take as long as possible to get to the lake was working fairly well, except for Tubbo’s whining. He’d complained about five times already, and Tommy was getting tired of it.

“We’ll be there soon!” he called sweetly, his face the opposite of his tone. He looked to the sky, and decided that it was time to finally reach their destination. If they took too longer, Mellohi might go out of the cave. Tommy turned a sudden right and walked determinedly in that direction. Tubbo called something but Tommy wasn’t listening. He looked to the sky another time, glad that it was clear of animals.

The lake was in the distance; he could see the crater line now. Tommy turned back to face Tubbo and Ranboo, who were conferring among themselves. Take a breath, relax, and showtime.

“So, I just need to clarify,” Tommy started, getting there attention and peered over his shoulder to see that they were less than ten feet from the lake, “Whatever you see here, it won’t be harmful or bad in any way. It only depends on your perspective.”

“That sounds ominous,” Tubbo and muttered and Ranboo signed something Tommy couldn’t make out. He turned away, casting one last look over his shoulder at the boys before staggering down the hill to the lake.

“Oh Thor; Tommy why in Thor's name are we at the lake?” Tubbo whined and Tommy turned as the came into the crater. His eyes looked left and right, trying to spy Wilbur and Niki, but they were either hidden too well or not here yet.

“Excellent question, Tubbo,” Wilbur drawled. It was the first option. Tommy turned and saw Wilbur and Niki coming into view from behind a rock. They walked towards Tommy, Wilbur with his arms behind his back and Niki with hers crossed. Tommy heard Tubbo hiss.

“Oh great; you brought us here to see your buddies. How fascinating.”

“Now, now; we’re only here to talk. And explain,” Wilbur started but Tubbo would not let him finish.

“Listen here Chiefy; I don’t give a flying fuck what you have to say!” Tubbo cried and stepped forward, glaring at Wilbur. Ranboo looked uncomfortable and stared at his feet, “In fact, I wish I wasn’t even here so I didn’t have to see your smug little face. But whatever shit you have to say, you better make it quick.”

“Well, about that—” Tommy said but he was cut off by a loud and rageful roar. Mellohi.

Tommy turned—like everyone else—to see the large dragon bound out of the trees and cut through the air. Landing directly in front of Tommy. Mellohi roared loudly at Tubbo and Ranboo, snarling and snapping at them. Tubbo let out a scream and staggered back, holding his arm out over Ranboo. Mellohi glared at them, advancing forward and coiling his rattling tail together. Tommy moved in front of him and spread his arms out like barriers.

“Woah, woah! Easy Mellohi; you don’t have to attack them either! Mellohi, calm down!” he shouted at the screaming beast, standing defiantly as he snapped, snarled and hissed. Mellohi growled, lowering his tail and wings. He looked Tommy in the eyes before glaring back at Tubbo and Ranboo, who were curled up into meek little balls against the stone wall. Tommy placed his hand on Mellohi’s muzzle and let out a calming breath towards the dragon. Mellohi growled and stood back, eyeing the two scared boys angrily. Tommy turned back towards them, showing a weak smile and holding out his hand.

It seemed in that moment Tubbo had regained his senses. He stopped breathing hastily and snarled, pushing himself up and smacking Tommy’s hand away.

“YOU!” he roared, pushing Tommy and squaring his fists. Mellohi growled but Tommy put his hand out to him, “You have a LOT of fucking explaining to do! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING! Keeping a DRAGON of all things and not saying a FUCKING WORD about it! Don’t you know hoe fucking DEADLY they are, how they could kill you at any moment. Oh, but you tell THESE FUCKS ABOUT IT, but not us!”

Tubbo punched and pushed and screamed at Tommy, but Tommy let him get his anger out before speaking. Tubbo gasped for air after shouting so much and put his hands on his knees.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy said, “I really am. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to be apart of this and get hurt. Get into unnecessary danger for nothing but my own problems.”

Tubbo looked up as Tommy, still a look of anger on his face, and swung his fist up towards Tommy’s face. Niki gasped and Mellohi growled but Tommy only chuckled, putting his hand on his cheek and looking back at Tubbo.

“Better?” he asked and Tubbo sighed.

“Yep, sure is,” he said and took Tommy’s hand and pulled himself up. Ranboo smiled and walked over, pulling Tommy into a hug. Tommy’s mouth fell agape but he smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“It’s. Okay. I. Know. How. You. Always. Want. To. Protect. Us. And. This. Is. A. Really. Bad. Scenario. If. Anyone. Finds. Out.” Ranboo said and Tommy nodded.

“Yeah, I know. But I’ll do anything to keep him safe,” Tommy said and gestured at Mellohi. Tubbo narrowed his eyes at him and Tommy placed a hand on his shoulder, “It’s okay; he won’t hurt you. He’s not like what they said about dragons; no dragon is. They’re not mindless, savage animals—and they certainly won’t attack without reason.”

Mellohi stepped forward next to Tommy, looking down at Tubbo and Ranboo with a certain curiosity. He leaned down and sniffed Ranboo, who went still and his eyes wide. Mellohi purred and placed his head next to the boy.

“Go on; stroke him,” Tommy insisted and guided Ranboo’s hand across the dragon’s muzzle. Ranboo gulped and constricted his eyes, so terrified of a creature that would not hurt him. Mellohi purred and licked Ranboo’s hand, making the boy go tense but not nervous. The dragon turned to Tubbo but the boy shook his head and crossed his arms.

“Okay, if you wanted to keep people safe than why do these two know?” he asked, nodding at Wilbur and Niki, who were stood next to Mellohi. Tommy scratched the back of his neck.

“In fairness, Wilbur accidently found out by himself, but he convinced me to tell you—”

“Convinced?”

“—and I wasn’t planning on telling Niki, but she followed us here, soooo…”

“Pretty easy when you dance around the streets and keep your tracks out in the dirt,” Niki said and Tommy sighed.

“Yeah, so if I had it my way, no one would know, but I figured I better make sure you guys are in the know.”

“Congratulations—we know. Now what’s the plan? Just gonna spend all day goggling at a dragon and ‘keeping him safe’. I mean, it’s not like the beast can’t take care of himself,” Tubbo scoffed.

“Yeah, but it’s one dragon against a whole village of angry Vikings. If anyone untrustworthy ever found out, we and Mellohi would be dead,” he said and Ranboo’s eyes went wide, “What? You think if they found him we’d get off scott free? Anyone in the know gets a one-way ticket to a public execution, or a whole life of torture. If anyone found out, we’d never life the same way again.”

Tommy held his hand out flat in the air and Wilbur and Niki placed theirs on top.

“Swear it. Swear that no matter what, we’ll protect this dragon with our lives, we’ll protect each other with our lives, and we’ll stay against this island no matter what. Stay against the rules they put out and things they say that are false.”

Tubbo exchanged a look with Ranboo, who put his hand in quickly and nodded.

"I. Swear."

Tubbo sighed and effortlessly put his hand in too.

“Fine, I swear, whatever” he said tiredly, “But Tommy, just so you know; if it comes down to saving your life—or Ranboo’s or anyone else who's important—I won’t hesitate to save you over that dragon. Be it lives or not, I will never pick an animal over people.”

--------------------------------------------

Plans were running smoothly a week later. Everyone had done what they said they were going to do, there were not tussle ups or unneeded arguments (except with Tubbo and Wilbur) and nobody—not even Tubbo—had blabbed to anyone else. Everyone had kept their oaths.

But on one day—a day that you could just tell would be a bad one—Tommy was at home for once, with Niki saying she would go and check on Mellohi to give Tommy a break. He didn’t like it, but he had been overexerting himself with taking care of the dragon, he had to admit. He was sitting at the dining table, folding his shirts when Tubbo smashed open the door—sweaty, red faced and out of breath.

“Woah, woah, woah—Tubbo what on Earth are you doing?” Tommy asked, jumping up from his seat and rushing over to Tubbo. Tubbo stood with his hand son his knees, gasping for breaths and his breathing irate. He waved his hand at Tommy and stood there for a minute before looking up.

“I—came—as soon—as I heard,” he gasped, breathing quickly and rasping his breaths.

“Heard what?” Tommy asked, getting more and more nervous as the boy spoke. Tommy staggered back a bit to give him some space but Tubbo grabbed his wrist and looked up with pained eyes.

“Tommy,” he gasped, “He’s back!”

Tommy didn’t like his tone one bit.

“Who’s back?”

Tubbo groaned and cast his eyes to his feet.

“Tubbo—”

“The Blade, Tommy! The Blade has returned!” Tubbo cried in anger. Tommy’s eyes went wide and his mouth hung open, “Prepare to party in the streets; our beloved hero is finally back, with a new kill just for the Chief. Just at the perfect FUCKING moment!” Tubbo spat.

Tommy’s heartbeat increased rapidly, and his arm fell limp to his side.

The Blade had returned.

Chapter Text

Legend has it, The Blade can tear a dragon in half with his bare hands with one tug—and the blood will never even touch his fingers.

Legend has it, he can sink armadas with one snap of his fingers, one glare from his eyes and one cut of his sword.

Legend has it, his kills are quick, impotent yet relentless—if you are a dragon. Unless, you will barely be given the chance to blink before your inevitable, agonizing and merciless death.

Legend has it, that if your name is Tommy Innit, he will always and forever be your enemy.

-----------------------------------------

Tommy ran through the streets, usually barren and cold but now loud and roaring with life. He pushed past any bystanders, who were too busy cheering to take notice in him. Tubbo and Ranboo ran behind him, trying to keep track of the boy and not get lost in the crowd. When everyone came together, it was hard to believe there were this many people in L’Manberg. Tommy reached the front of the crowd, who were looking to the right and trying to get a good glance at something approaching.

Tommy swerved around, but he could not see anyone he wanted. Tubbo grabbed his arm and pulled him back, out of the crowd and anyway from the noise.

“Tommy! Don’t go running into that kinda crowd; you’ll get yourself killed!” he said but Tommy was too busy spinning his head, his eyes darting around frantically. He hadn’t really taken into account what Tubbo had said previously, but for some reason he was tremoring. Ranboo stood, shivering—either from the cold, the crowd or the killer approaching.

“I need to find Wilbur and Niki,” he said quickly, “I just have to!”

“Chances are, they’re not going to be here, like directly here,” Tubbo said, trying to grasp Tommy’s attention, “Besides, I thought Niki was ‘you-know-where’.”
Tommy stood up on his toes to look over the crowd, but he wasn’t quite as tall as the other people that stood in front of him. Then, he turned to Ranboo, his eyes wide and curious.

“Ranboo; put me on your shoulder.”

Ranboo raised his eyes and shook his hand.

“Why. On. Earth. Would. I. Do That? It’s. Far. Too. Risky. That. I’d. Drop You.”

“Yeah, but you’re taller—like really tall. If I got a bird’s eye view, I’d be able to see everything.”

“We’re. Not. Debating. This. Tommy. No.”

“Tommy!” someone shouted, someone familiar and Tommy turned like a whip. Niki was running out of the clearing, eyes wide as well and aiming towards them. She reached them and panted, looking around at the crowd.

“I heard noise, even from the fo—'you-know-where’. The island only ever has this much commotion for one reason,” Niki said and sighed, “Techno’s back, isn’t he.”

“Apparently,” Tubbo said and waved at the crowd, “But like you said, no one gets excited around here unless our ‘mighty-hero’ has returned.”

“And at a great time too,” Tommy spat, clenching his fists, “Where’s Will?”

“I don’t know, but we’re not likely to see him. He’ll be waiting with the Chief, and will probably be like that all day,” Niki explained and Tommy groaned in frustration.

“Shit.”

“But I know a better place where we can see; follow me!” Niki said and made a move towards the hills. Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo exchanged a look before rushing off behind her. Niki ran towards a hill, close to where the stone wall Tommy used to meet Wilbur on was. Atop there, you could see everything in the plaza. Niki stood on the wall and gestured down to the screaming crowd. The only problem was that the wall made a fence around the path to the Chief’s house. Meaning that The Blade would walk past them.

“This is the best I can do,” Niki said but was interrupted by a sudden rise in tone. They turned to look down at the crowd, which had formed a path in which led from the docks and to the wall. Tommy spied Wilbur from his hair, standing a few feet in front next to the small stature of the Chief. Then, Tubbo bumped Tommy with his shoulder and nodded towards the pathway the people had made. Something was moving. Something large, red and something to make the people rally. It was The Blade.

Even from a distance, Tommy could see his physique, his menacing stature and his long, striking pink hair. He walked like a creature, staggering two steps, stopping slightly and shifting on his feet. His sword was tied to his belt, swaying as he moved and glaring at anyone who had the balls to look. He was dragging something behind him, something that made the people he walked past grimace but nod approvingly. Tommy didn’t want to know what it was. The more The Blade came into view, the more Tommy could see of him and the more his stomach churned. Niki placed her hand on his shoulder reassuringly, and Tommy was thankful for her warming presence. It made him only slightly less nervous.

At last, The Blade reached the Chief and Wilbur, the crowd still screaming for their hero. Tommy saw Wilbur move his head and the Chief turn to him sternly, and Tommy guessed he had said something that wasn’t acceptable. He saw them exchange a few more words before the Chief gestured towards the hill and their house. The hill where stood the stone wall, where stood Tommy. The Blade’s head moved up slightly and then, they turned. Wilbur locked eyes with Tommy as soon as he turned around, his hands pressed neatly behind his back. His face looked bitter and scornful, but when he saw Tommy he shook his head but mouthed the words, ‘Don’t be afraid’. Tommy nodded and squared his shoulders, taking in a deep sigh.

The crowd began to disperse, taking one last glance at the three men before taking their leave. They would see more—and hopefully hear more—of The Blade at the feast to be held in the Great Hall. He wasn’t a man of many words, but when The Blade did speak, he captivated anyone who listened, Tommy included.

They were coming towards them now, Wilbur, The Chief, The Blade. Tubbo stood with his arms folded, slouched but in front of Ranboo. Niki still had her hand on Tommy’s shoulder and stared at them with a fiery passion. The three men reached them, and their heads turned to them, The Blade's with a certain curiosity.

He wore a long, heaving cloak made of red dragon scales—which Tommy now saw to be Singetail. Underneath he wore a cuffed, blank shirt with a ruby crystal sitting in the cuff, and brown crusted trousers underneath a belt buckle which all sorts of things hung. A sword, a dagger and a single spyglass. His hair was long, braided and pale pink hair, but it trailed down his back like a tail and shifted in the harsh breeze. Single drops of blood sat in his hair, matted together but best not to ask where from. His face was masked by a dragon’s skull, all skin and eyes burrowed out, death always hanging close to him. Tommy now saw, with a sudden resentment, that the skull had once belonged to a Death Gripper. All these new discoveries now proved even more how dangerous of a man he was. A single emerald hung from his left ear—nesting in a golden thread and coiling though his ear. Maybe it was by coincidence, but Tommy saw one identical hanging from Philza’s right ear as well.

And even though his face was masked, Tommy could still see the eyes through the holes of his mask. They were red, piercing and narrowed in Tommy’s direction, either questioning his identity or how to kill him quickly. They moved from him to Tubbo, and then quickly to Ranboo. They glinted with a sly passion as they lay on the silent boy, and Tommy heard Tubbo growl.

“Ah, Niki, how lovely to see you this day,” Philza said and Niki bowed politely, her hand never leaving Tommy’s shoulder.

“As always the same, Phil,” Niki said politely, somehow managing to take away all bitterness from her tone, “You too, Techno. It has been some time since we have spoken, if not like we used to.”

The Blade nodded, or at least it seemed so, his eyes on Niki before back on Tommy, then the hand that sat on his shoulder.

“I’m afraid my duties require me, Niki, and so thankfully or unthankfully they require me off island. But nevertheless, it is virtuous to be home for a while,” The Blade said, and Tommy was taken aback by his voice. It was the first time he had heard it, and it was deep, monotone and almost taunting, but Tommy expected it to be sleek and uptight.

“Will you be staying long?” Niki asked and Wilbur looked at The Blade, almost as if he was wishing for an answer. In fact, they all probably were.

“Wish for me to leave so soon?” The Blade asked, so quickly Tommy almost couldn’t tell he was joking, “I’m afraid I know not. Only when I feel the need to or someone contacts me about a pest problem.”

Tommy glared at him, oblivious to anyone else and then had the misfortune to look down. The something that The Blade had been dragging being him was a Dramillion, but one that barely looked at least four years old. It hung lifelessly on the ground and it’s tail was limp in his hands. It’s eyes were closed, which Tommy was thankful for because he didn’t know if he could bare to see them, rolled back, dead and cold.

He looked up saw The Blade looking at him again, and this time Tommy glared right into his eyes.

“I hope you will be coming to the Great Hall tonight, Niki?” Philza asked.

“Is company allowed?”

“As always. In fact, tonight anyone is allowed in, no matter who they are.”

“Then I suppose I will be with people regardless. Just don’t keep Wilbur from us all night, will you?”

“I’ll try not to.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at the conversation but then had to put that aside as The Blade moved towards them a step, and Tommy wished he was wearing a mask at that moment so that The Blade wouldn’t be staring right through him.

“This is an odd group, isn’t it? Two boys I don’t recall;, though I guess they are Puffy’s, and one little chick I defiantly don’t know? I suppose we could change that…”

“Please excuse my brother’s rudeness—although he does so hate the fact that we’re related—twins even!” Wilbur interrupted and everyone turned to him. Tommy shot him a small smile, “He’s spent so much time away that he doesn’t know when it’s rude to keep his fat trap open. What can you do, ay?”

“Wilbur!” Philza hissed and Wilbur stood up straight, grinning up at the sky, “Excuse us, but we will have to leave, at least to get ready.”

“Such a shame…”

“That’s alright,” Niki said politely, and Tommy wanted to kick her so she wouldn’t bow again, “See you tonight I suppose.”

Phil nodded and turned away to his house, with Wilbur trailing behind. The Blade stood where he was, eyes tight on Tommy before storming away. Tommy breathed a sigh of relief and shivered. Tubbo growled and stormed over to the gate.

“WE’RE SCHLATT’S, YOU GREAT SHOWER OF SHIT! HOW ABOUT YOU TAKE SOME MORE TIME AWAY AND LEARN BEFORE COMING BACK AND PISSING EVERYONE OFF. STAY AWAY FROM US, AND HAVE A SHOWER, YOU DIRTY PIG!” he shouted, spitting at the ground and rubbing it in with his foot.

“Tubbo!” Tommy hissed, looking around and then at The Blade, but he was too far away to hear—at least he hoped, “Someone could hear you!”

“Good,” the boy hissed, “Teach them a lesson. Who does he think he is, marching in here, dragging a body through the streets like a cart of gold and taring us down like artifacts. And who the fuck does he think he is saying that abut Ranboo! Too much blood to the head, but he takes it from everyone else he’s killed. I mean, who keeps blood in their hair like a decorative ribbon.”

“Well lucky us, we get to see them again at the feast,” Niki sighed and stared at the house on the hill.

“Oh yeah, and why did you keep bowing, I mean—” Tubbo started but Tommy kicked him and turned to Niki.

“What did you mean, ‘Is company allowed?’. It’s the Great Hall; it’s not like they won’t let you in. I’ve been in hundreds of times with Wilbur, and there’s always food to spare. They’ll especially let everyone in on a special occasion,” Tommy stated and everyone stared at their feet, “What?”

“Tommy, that’s not how the Great Hall system works at all,” Tubbo said and scowled again.

“What do you mean? How else would it—”

“Only selected individuals are allowed to dine there,” Niki explained, “You can’t get in without being one or accompanying one. Otherwise, the whole village would eat there. No peasants, no workers, no starving. Only noblemen, hunters and relatives.

“But…I always go in. And there’s so much food left over.”

“But you were always with Wilbur. Without him, you wouldn’t get in; I assure you, else we would’ve eaten there everyday instead if scrounging for scraps. The food is just another part of this island’s rottenness; they waste everything those privileged fucks can’t be bothered to eat. They don’t care about wastefulness. They don’t care about us,” Tubbo scoffed and Tommy’s mouth hung open.

It was just another fake truth he had had to deal with, so he didn’t know why he was even shocked. It was just another bullshit twisted by The Chief. No matter how pleasant he seemed in public, he was just another tyrant who cared about no one but himself.

-----------------------------------------------

Wilbur couldn’t wait to get home and see his brother. He was gushing from excitement just thinking about it, how amazing it was going to be with him here and how much FUN they were going to have, oh joys! He was quivering from exhilaration just thinking about it all!

That would be sarcasm, but he had been quivering slightly since the dragon’s dead body had been lain across a chair. His chair, to be exact. It’s eyes had rolled open and stared up at him in anguish and pain. Wilbur shivered and looked away.

Techno had been as talkative as a tree since he had arrived. As usual, he had shown no interest or joy from the crowd (like flies, he had once said) and his words were dull but with a flare of dry humour their father was yet to catch on to. Much to Wilbur’s consternation, Techno had shown an interest in Tommy, which was concerning at best. The last thing the boy needed was to become Techno’s new interest while he was there, to become watched and stalked and have all his secrets revealed as part of Techno’s ploy. Which for Tommy, was very, very bad considering his secret was something Techno vowed to destroy.

After they entered the house, Techno removed his mask and placed it to one side. His face had red eyes, pursed lips and two long parallel scars across the side of one cheek through his lips. If Wilbur remembered correctly, the same dragon who had given it to him now had it’s face worn upon Techno’s.

Phil was examining the slaughtered dragon laid over his chairs, tracing his hand across it’s wings and nodding assertively.

“Right, yes, okay; Will, help Techno carry this thing to his room.”

“Why do I need to help him; I think Hunter the Hero is strong enough to do it by himself?” Wilbur snapped and Phil frowned.

“I said carry it, Wilbur! I don’t particularly want a dead dragon in my living room, sitting in a chair like it’s an invited guest,” Phil snapped and Wilbur sighed, grabbing the dragon’s tail while Techno took the head in his palm. It was wet, cold and scaly to the touch and Wilbur grimaced.

The two of them carried it to Techno’s bedroom, which was up the stairs and by far the biggest room in the house. It had to be if he wanted to keep all his kills in there with him. Wilbur had always hated Techno’s room. All it did was house death and vengeance in one space, and there were eyes everywhere you looked. Anytime Phil asked Wilbur to go in for a specific reason, he would always protest until Phil snapped at him to do it. Wilbur kept his eyes to the floor whenever he went in. There had been a time when the two boys had accommodated together, but they were days long gone in childhood. Like many other things.

Wilbur placed the dragon on Techno’s bed and grimaced, wiping his hands on his jacket. It wasn’t that it was a dragon, but that it was dead. Techno chuckled and placed his sword down on his desk, unstrapping his cloak and casting it aside.

“Your company seems to be quite amusing, brother. I didn’t know you were the babysitting type,” Techno said with a bemused smile, and Wilbur flipped him off when his back was turned, “Manners were never a strong element of yours.”

“Shut your trap with that fancy talk, Techno,” Wilbur snapped but Technoblade did not change his mood.

“That blonde boy is certainly puzzling, though I haven’t figured him out yet. The other I care not for, but that tall one is certainly strange. I suppose he is the mute Father told me about?” Wilbur kept quiet, “Thought so. A unique figure, but I suppose he might strive with what he’ll do, what they’ll all do.”

“And what will that be?” Wilbur asked, a stirring feeling quaking in his gut.

“Why, soldiers of course,” the feeling plummeted far below, “Father was telling me in his letters how a…certain force has been getting in the way recently, how we need more troops to fight. Those boys seem perfectly suited for it, and as orphans, no one will miss them at all if they die. For the good of the island, I would say.”

Techno grinned an evil grin and Wilbur glared at him, his hands twitching. He knew that he was trying to make him angry, but that didn’t make him any less. Sharply, he rushed forward towards Techno and slammed him up against the wall, enraged. To make it worse, his brother only smiled.

“Listen here, brother, you will do nothing to those boys, do you hear me? You will leave them alone and not put your sick, twisted, son of a bitch hands on them, do you hear me? If you go anywhere near them—any of them—and I will make you wish you had never been born!” Wilbur hissed and Technoblade smiled.

“I think you’ll find that I was born with the strength in our family, Wilbur,” he said but Wilbur was not playing around. He glared deep into his twin’s eyes and dug his hand into his arms. Technoblade saw his expression and the smile fell from his lips. He pushed Wilbur’s hand off of his arms and frowned.

“Since when were you a Mother Hen?” Techno scoffed and shook his hand, “Fine. I won’t lay a hand on them,” he smiled, and Wilbur grew tense at his reaction, “Not a single finger. I won’t have to.”

Techno walked over to the dragon corpse, stroking it’s wings and pushing it to one side.

“Dragons are such curious creatures; wouldn’t you agree. The act that the only thing that gets them killed is how different they are to everyone else,” he stated and turned to look at Wilbur, whispering, “They aren’t the only creatures.”

He stormed out of the room, knocking Wilbur as he went, and Wilbur was left standing alone, helpless and extremely concerned for Tommy and who knew who else. Techno didn’t lie (at least not without a proper reason) but he could be a disingenuous bastard when he wanted to be. Wilbur knew from experience.

-----------------------------------------------

When Wilbur had been but nine years old, he had woken up one night to hear loud noises coming from outside his window.

They unnerved him, so naturally he turned to Techno’s bedside. The bed was empty. Wilbur looked around the room, but it was also empty other than him. Slowly, he crept out of bed and peeked out of his bedroom window. Underneath it, swinging violently at objects Wilbur couldn’t make out in the dark, was Technoblade. Wilbur frowned and crept quietly down the stairs of his house, placed on his boots and went outside.

He walked to the back of the house, where when he looked Techno was still there, grunting and hitting at something. Wilbur moved closer to him, a bad feeling in his gut. “Techno?” he called but as soon as he did the boy swung around and placed the tip of his sword close to Wilbur’s neck. He cried out in fear as Techno did so, stumbling back. He only realised then that the blade was real.

“Woah, woah, Techno it’s me!” Wilbur hissed, his eyes wide while his brothers were narrowed, his red eyes gleaming in the moon. Technoblade lowered his sword and huffed.

“You should be in bed, Wilbur,” he said gruffly, turning his back to Wilbur. Wilbur now saw that the objects Techno had been attacking with his sword were targets, but those shaped like Vikings holding swords. Wilbur shifted on his feet.

“As should you. You shouldn’t be out here this late, doing whatever it is you’re doing. Father wouldn’t be happy.”

Techno scoffed and brought his eyes to meet Wilbur’s.

“I assure you; Father wouldn’t care if I was out here. He might even be pleased. But if he catches you out here, you’ll certainly be in trouble.”

“What separates me from you?” Wilbur asked and Techno sneered again, shaking his head. Wilbur clenched his fists, “Oh right, I forgot you were the Glowing Saviour to us all, the Heir to L’Manberg and the Chief’s prize son. Wilbur, I mean who’s Wilbur?” he snapped and Techno frowned.

“Go to bed, Wilbur. You don’t know of which you speak,” he said simply and turned back to his targets. Wilbur glared behind him, his hand twitching as Techno carried on as if he had never even been there. Which was becoming a regular thing these days.

Wilbur had then returned to bed, not bothering to sacrifice his skin to the cold for Techno’s sake. He stayed awake a while longer, but even after two hours Technoblade did not come back inside.

---------------------------------------------

“Why have we got to go?” Tommy whined as Niki stood in front of him, cleaning up his hair, “I mean, it’s not like anyone will miss us.”

“We don’t want to act any more suspicious tan Techno already thinks we are,” Niki explained.

“But I haven’t acted suspicious once!”

“Maybe not, but Techno has keen eyes, and he’s already made you a curiosity. If you go anywhere else—woods or not—he’ll be on to you like a cat on a mouse.”

Tubbo and Ranboo had also been not as accepting about the feast as Niki had wanted them to be. Not one of them wanted to be there at all, especially the boys, but they did want to talk to Wilbur. Niki had tried to smarten them up a bit, so they didn’t look like scrounging orphans, but Tommy thought that would’ve made them look more suspicious, which he couldn’t seem to get through to Niki. Regardless, she had stayed with the three of them since Technoblade had arrived, and Tommy couldn’t deny that it was comforting. “Will you stick with us while we’re there?” Tommy asked, hating how much he sounded like a child. Niki smiled and pushed a lock of hair behind his ear.

“Of course. I won’t let anyone hurt you Tommy. Me and Wilbur have that in common,” Tubbo coughed and crossed his arms, “Tubbo too. You know, I think you’d make a good Mother Hen, Tubbo.”

Tubbo pulled at his shirt collar and scoffed, “Yeah, I suppose. What with a Chicken, a Cat, a Dolphin, a Capybara, a Raccoon and a Dragon we’d be able to open up our own zoo.”

“I’m not a raccoon!” Tommy yelled, pulling a face at Tubbo, “If I’m anything, I’m a majestic bird!”

“I see a raccoon.”

“Now boys, let’s not get scrappy because of animals; it’ll ruin your hair,” Niki said and Tommy huffed.

“I don’t care about my hair anyway.”

“Well, you might if it looked nice,” Niki protested and turned Tommy around so he was facing away from her. Tommy frowned as Niki tugged and grabbed at strands of his hair, but he didn’t protest. When she was done, she turned Tommy back around and held up a small mirror to his face, Tommy’s eyes widened when he saw Niki had made a few small braids in his hair close to his ears. His hair wasn’t any longer than his shoulders, but the braids did make his hair look nicer. He turned his head and admired then, smiling at Niki and ignoring the giggles from Tubbo and Ranboo.

“At least now you have a more…polite look on your head,” Niki said and then opened the door, peeking outside and grimacing when she came back in, “It’s time.”

The four of them exchanged a look, and then sighed. The night was soon to be upon them, and so would the feast, no matter how much they wanted it to be over before it started.

For Ranboo, he feared his world changing from bearable to torturous.

For Tubbo, he feared his couldn’t protect his friends getting hurt from a power far above them.

For Niki, she feared anyone standing in the way of their revolt.

For Wilbur, somewhere, he feared Tommy would get lost in his brother’s twisted ploys.

For Tommy, he feared one man getting in his way, taking the one thing he held most and ripping it from his claws, and the beginning to take away what he had left. Leaving his world ablaze.

And somewhere, in the churning mind of a powerful man, Technoblade somewhat feared one small boy ripping apart everything he had set in place for the future of his tribe, his island and his family.

And that just wouldn’t do.

It was safe to say that the last thing Tommy wanted to do was go to this feast. Not only would he be surrounded by unpleasant people, but he would be in direct line of sight for Technoblade. But, he wasn’t allowed to choose, as he and only three of his friends walked through the giant doors of the Great Hall. Maybe it was because of what he had been told earlier, but Tommy seemed to notice the guards standing watchfully on duty, spears raised and eyes narrowed. He wondered if they had been there every time, and if they would really make sure no one under upper class got in. He wondered what would happen if one day he went in without Wilbur.

The hall was dark but greatly lit was a mass of torches and a few chandeliers. Nothing much had changed apart from the amount of people suddenly in the Hall. Every table was practically full, and everyone was trying to get as much food as possible, for this night was probably one of few where they actually could eat well. Tommy wondered if there would be any leftovers tonight, or if the kitchens had made a lot more food that would be.

He scouted out the room for any spare seats or tables (preferably away from people) and saw one close to a corner, almost empty. Tommy nudged Tubbo and Niki, nodding his head at it and leading them towards it. A few loners sat far away from each other on the other end of the table and when the four of them sat, they were given dirty looks. It made sense no one was sitting at the tables far away from the people when everyone was gathered and wanting to speak to anyone they could. It was only when the sat down that Tommy realised they were one of the closest tables to the Council Table, and that would be where Technoblade sat.

The Great Hall had four columns of tables facing the doors, two hidden behind pillars and the others making a path directly to the back of the hall. Tommy’s table was the first row closest to the Council Table, just behind a pillar. A sunken feeling rumbled in his stomach, and he sighed a deep sigh. Opposite him sat Tubbo and Ranboo, with Niki at his side. He looked around for Wilbur, but could not see him anywhere.

“He’ll show up, eventually,” Niki assured him, “Phil probably has him hooked up to a leash so he can keep him close, try to show off that ‘perfect family’ image he always does. Hard to do that without his wife. Don’t fret though—just enjoy the food. It’ll be the only good thing to come out of the day.”

She was right, of course.

Tubbo and Ranboo wolfed down anything they could get their hands on, making Tommy both laugh and frown. Wilbur still couldn’t be seen, but the Council Table had filled up quite a bit, including the Chief but no signs of his sons. By 9PM, everyone had eaten till they were bloated and the special guest still hadn’t arrived. People exchanged conversations, whispers of annoyance and retorts until the doors opened and Technoblade entered the Great Hall, stomping in alone and unmasked. Tommy was taken aback by his face, which was covered in a thick scar—which seemed as if it were a slash from a dragon’s claw, though he couldn’t tell what kind— and ran from his right cheek through his lips and eyebrow. No one dared to stare as he walked, red eyes narrowed, tired but ready to pick a fight. Tommy didn’t see a Wilbur with him, so he guessed he must already be there.

Technoblade sat down next to his father, and it was then Tommy saw Wilbur on the other side of the Chief, only he was almost hidden beside him—arms folded and expression grim. As soon as Technoblade sat, his eyes immediately latched onto Tommy, as if he knew he was looking. Tommy stared forward at the table, pretending not to notice the eyes boring through his skull when in reality they were making his leg jump up and down. Philza raised his hands for silence, and everybody followed.

“Welcome citizens of L’Manberg to the honourable feast of our own General Technoblade!” he said and people clapped as Technoblade rose, nodding once before sitting, “Although he is no longer our heir, he still fulfils his duties to his highest ability, and it is an honour to have him home once again.”

“A toast!” Wilbur suddenly exclaimed, rising up from his seat and making Philza narrow his eyes, “To my favourite older brother—though only by a few minutes. As unaccustomed as I am to public speaking, I am not as intoxicated as I would like but I suspect I will be by the end of the night, much like most of you! But anyways, blah blah blah, to Technoblade!”

“To Technoblade!” people shouted, clacking the drinks together and drinking. Tommy smiled as Wilbur was pulled down by Philza, a stern look on his face while Technoblade remained bemused.

“To Wilbur,” Tommy said to his peers, holding his glass to the air, “For having to deal with having Technoblade as a brother! And to our own guest on the island; Mellohi!”

The others grinned and clicked their glasses against each other’s, taking a sip after one another. Tommy drank from his glass, watching the Council Table as he did so. No matter how many parties the Chief could threw for him, Tommy guessed that Technoblade would try as little as possible to be a part of them.

--------------------------------------------

Wilbur spent the rest of the night having as little fun as possible. His father restricted him to the Council Table, meaning he could not go and speak to Tommy or the others. He drank as much as he was allowed and listened to the conversations of others as he spun his fork around on his plate. His brother spoke as little as he could, not bothering to partake in any activity. It wasn’t unusual for him.

The rest of the night continued, promising noise and light till early in the morning, yet it only took halfway through for Wilbur to realise some people from the Council Table had left, including his father and Techno. Wilbur looked around, not having noticed them gone even though he had dined next to them since his arrival. They were nowhere to be seen in the Hall.

Wilbur locked eyes with Niki as he looked for his two family members. She pointed towards a door in the back of the Great Hall, one that Wilbur recognized as leading to a back room where certain ornaments were held. Wilbur mouthed,’ thank you’ to Niki as he rose and walked quietly towards the door. He was quite good at being ignored, so no one thought much of him as he went passed.

The door was hidden behind a pillar from a certain perspective, so Wilbur leaned up against it as he heard voices coming from inside the room. He pushed the door opened a crack and leaned his ear against it.

“—becoming more and more difficult. If we don’t do anything, they’ll eventually become too big of a problem.”

“They’re disrupting distribution!”

“Are they coming directly towards the island?” a voice that sounded distinctly like Techno asked.

“No, but they don’t have to. They know what to do to get in the way from a distance. Anymore, and they will come towards the island eventually. They’re just waiting for the right moment.”

“Any idea where they’re based?”

“No. Anytime a ship goes to track them, they’re gone in the clouds before they can follow them.”

“These boys—” Phil went to say but was interrupted by Techno.

“They aren’t really boys; they’re no younger than me. Men, you might say.”

“These boys are getting too big for their boots. Or I guess you could say saddles. They broke our rules, left before punishment and then proceed to break them without even being on the island.”

“I guess having dragons makes anyone feel invincible,” someone said and Wilbur’s eyes widened. Were they on about Tommy?

“Which leads onto another point. They’re breaking out dragons from hunter ships and leading them away. Each one they take is another point to making them feel more powerful. I’ve heard that their island is covered in them. If you ever wanted a hoard Technoblade, it would be there.”

“I don’t kill them because it’s easy,” Techno snapped, “I do it because it’s necessary. I’d rather kill the men than kill the dragons if I found their island. But, I do have to ponder…”

“Ponder what?”

“What’s stopping anyone else on this island from training dragon?” he asked and Wilbur stiffened.

“That’s ridiculous,” Phil scoffed, “There’s no one else here that is stupid or rebellious enough to do so.”

“Are you sure about that? I’ve happened to seen a few people who already look up to no good. Certain individuals who you could have done looking out for in the first place.” “Who would that be?”

“Never mind that; if they do anything, I’ll no. But meanwhile, you send ships in every direction to find their island, and make sure to put extra on patrol on every part of the island.

“They won’t initiate with you here, Technoblade.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean anymore foul play isn’t occurring. If I may ask, what happened to our little traitor who you managed to catch out?”

“He left as soon as he knew we’d got him. Took everything valuable with him, but we managed to destroy his house. No sign of him anywhere else.”

“I have men in every quadrant of the Archipelago. If he’s out there, we’ll find him eventually, rotten dragon-taming scum. And that goes for those riders too.”

Wilbur pulled himself away from the door and quickly walked away, his heart beating in his ears. He may have just heard something he wasn’t supposed to behind closed doors, a secret his father didn’t want getting out. Boys—or maybe men—who rode dragons. A man who had fled—probably Sam—who had no longer been safe on the island. Techno keeping his eyes out on Tommy and adding more guards to patrol.

It all seemed like Technoblade has brought every kind of plague to the island; they just didn’t kill you straight away and their only attack was hurting him, Tommy and everyone else. Whatever happened next, Wilbur was sure it meant change for the five of them. It just wasn’t a good kind of change, or one that they were particularly ready for.

Chapter Text

Technoblade had been on the island for two weeks, and life still hadn’t gotten any easier for Tommy.

His constant watch and extra patrol meant it was hard for Tommy—or anyone else—to go and see Mellohi. It was also harder to Mellohi to be on the island at all. The day after the feast in he Great Hall, Wilbur had assembled them all together in Tommy’s house to tell them all what he had heard in the backroom. It made Tommy’s knees weak, then rise and then fall again.

Firstly, there was a group who was extremely vexing the Council. From what Wilbur had heard and had told the group—they were dragon riders. It had made Tommy’s heart swell with joy but strangely pride. How there were more people just like him, people who understood the truth and actively fought out against those that ignored it. They saved captured dragons and destroyed trapper ships, leading them away before any humans could interrupt. Tommy didn’t know who they were, but he was grateful to them. Someone was fulfilling his dream off island, and ruining the Council’s. He was definitely questioning whether Drista’s brother was one of the riders now, and he had a small hope that they were.

Secondly, they had spoken about Sam. He hadn’t been found and he hadn’t been killed. He was still alive, Tommy hoped. No, he knew. Sam had left as soon as he felt eyes burning through the back of his head and his life, and he had made sure he was left alone. Nothing had been uncovered from his once-house, and Tommy had been the only one to do so. It gave Tommy hope he would one day see him again, maybe even in the skies.

Thirdly, and somewhat sourly, Technoblade had declared he had all eyes on Tommy and Tommy alone. He was watching his every move, carefully tracking his steps in hope to catch him out. Tommy didn’t know what he had done to hitch the man an unwanted ride. Maybe Technoblade could read eyes like he could, and saw a dare in Tommy’s. Wilbur was anxious for him, which Tommy thought was a bit strange since Technoblade was quite literally his brother. Didn’t he know him, understand him or have any means to convince him? Wilbur said it wouldn’t matter—when ‘Techno’ had his mind on something he would stay on it until proven wrong. And he was never wrong.

So, Tommy spent most of his time indoors, to his dismay. He longed to see Mellohi, to fly through the clouds and soar past the current of the wind. He feared that if he was away from the Triple Stryke for too long, he would wander into the village and get himself killed. Maybe that was what Technoblade was hoping for. But Tommy still didn’t understand if he knew Tommy had tamed a dragon, or whether he thought he was simply suspicious. Niki or Tubbo made sure he was fed, but Tommy felt it wasn’t the same. Mellohi wasn’t as comfortable with them as he was with Tommy. Still, it had to be like that. For Mellohi’s sake, and Tommy’s. If he wanted to survive, he had to think about what was best over what was his personal preference.

---------------------------------------------------

It was a day like any other when it all seemed to go horribly wrong.

Tommy had just come back from the market, where he had been restocking his supplies. Tubbo would’ve preferred him not to go, but he was busy with Ranboo in the woods. Niki was at home, and so was Wilbur. It just felt like one of those days where Tommy was destined to be alone, and the sky was destined to be grey. He made his way back home, thoughts running through his mind. The door hung on its hinges, already cracked open but Tommy barely noticed, only pushing it open without realising it was even open. He placed his wares on the dining table and sighed.

“Tommy Innit,” a voice said Tommy jumped out of his skin, turning to face the voice. Technoblade was sitting in his chair, fingers poised like triangles and face masked by shadows, his scar only visible by the way it dented his face. His head pointed down but his eyes were up like a predator, and Tommy went stiff as they locked onto his. His tone was not mocking, only curious.

“Technoblade?” Tommy questioned, clearing his throat and standing upright, “How did you—”

“You really think doors are a problem for me? I’ve slain dragons and butchered armies; doors are only a wooden inconvenience,” Technoblade answered, not raising tone or lowering it, only ever on one ground. Tommy questioned his motifs and circled around the living area in which he sat. Technoblade’s eyes followed him. Maybe it was because he was under the threshold of his own house, but Tommy suddenly felt a surge of confidence towards the man he had once feared.

“I’d say have a seat, but I guess…” Tommy said and Technoblade barked a cold laugh. There was tension in the room, and they both knew it, “I do believe this is the first time we have spoken.”

“Yes, my accidental glory in the eyes of others holds me back from doing things I want to do. Believe me; we would be having this discussion long ago if people had taken their hands out of my pocket,” Technoblade said and rose, walking slowly around the area like Tommy was; a vulture encircling its next kill, “I though it was time we got to…know each other. Far from the prying eyes of…anyone else. Believe me; I can get a lot from once glance, and the rest from other people. When you ask around, you tend to learn a lot more information that you never knew before.”

“I’m sure those are fascinating rumours.”

“Rumours often stem from the truth, no matter how twisted in thorns it becomes. For instance, when you ask about one boy, one who has never particularly been in the spotlight, people start to share things that make him more so. Spends every living second in the forest. Used to travel to the other end of the island for ‘deliveries’. Becomes friends with the Chief’s heir and makes himself a gang. Born to parents soon to die and lives with a boy who shared the same fate. You are a strange boy, Tommy Innit. I mean, you grew up with Puffy—oh, my apologies. Schlatt, wasn’t it? I believe that’s what your friend shouted at me when I left the scene. Strange man, Schlatt, but it seems strange men harbour strange children.”

“I apologise for Tubbo’s demeanour; he can be quick to anger. Especially when he feels offended. But he is not bad, nor is Ranboo. Whatever you want with them—”

“You’ve already told me so much without meaning to. Tubbo I care not for—he is boring and not in the slightest bit in my line of sight—but Ranboo at least has some mystery to him,” Technoblade stated and Tommy scowled slightly, “I went to his island once, to dispose of some Crashers. Do you know what they are?”

“Cavern Crashers,” Tommy blurted out without thinking, shouting at himself in his head and wishing he had kept his mouth shut for once. He closed his eyes in annoyance for a second and Technoblade’s lips curled upwards.

“Smart kid. Knowledge like that is usually lost in the minds of people and remains in those with a will to learn…and to seek out lost things. You’ve given me so much to know about you already. Your expressions, your words—your eyes. They tell a story so dark and mysterious it either makes you weep or curse. You may think you are clever, Tommy Innit, that you are invisible to those you wish to be. But I see though you. I have since the moment I met you. Even when you hide, I always see. And with your actions, comes the price others have to pay for it.”

Technoblade turned to face him, no longer smiling and Tommy held his breath in suspense. His fists were clenched and his eyes had not left the man’s face since he had arrived.

“Tommy, have you ever heard of a man named Theseus?” Technoblade asked calmly and Tommy shook his head slowly, “I thought not. It’s not a story you would hear around these parts. In my time away, I saw every corner of the world. Which in fact, does not have corner because it is indeed round. But anyway, I went to so many places in my boat, even further than the Archipelago. It took a while, but what I heard was worth it. There are no dragons outside the Archipelago. It is a free land with empty skies and towns that aren’t pillaged. They stay here because they were made here, started here, and will remain here until disposed of. But in my travels, I visited a place called Greece. The Greeks have a lot of stories—gods, beasts, heroes—far more than us. Their mythology spreads wide through to others. One of their stories that captured my interest was about a man named Theseus. His city was in danger and controlled by a tyrant, and Theseus sent himself forward into enemy lines and he slayed the minotaur, a foul beast held deep in a labyrinth that the tyrants controlled, fourteen children sent from each city to quell its hunger because of the tyrant’s power over the cities. He saved his city, bringing freedom and an end to those tyrants. He became a king. And you know what they did to him, Tommy? They exiled him, he died in disgrace, despised by his people. Do you want to be like Theseus, Tommy? Do you want to be a hero? No, you’re nothing like Theseus, because at least he slayed the beast.”

Tommy staggered back slightly, his eyes never leaving Technoblade’s. Technoblade placed his hand on the grip of his sword and glared coldly towards Tommy.

“Do you think your little rebellious act is a revolt?” he spat dryly, “How can it be when no one knows about it? You cant protest to trees. Do you think you’re doing the world a favour by changing it? You have three days to hand me that dragon; alive—if you’re too weak—or I will rip your family from the ground and bury your friends. And no one. Will. Stop me. Because you’re orphans. Meek, abandoned orphans struggling to survive in a world where no one wants you. And you were even cast out from the orphanage. How pitiful. Time is running out, Theseus. Make a right choice for once before everything crumbles around you,” Technoblade said and moved towards Tommy, passing by him—staggering in height—and brushing against his shoulder as he whispered into his ear..

“And if you want to know how I know, next time don’t leave your wings in the sky.”

He thundered out of the house, slamming the door and leaving Tommy completely helpless, alone and petrified. Technoblade was left satisfied, alone and waiting for the fear of a child to lose control.

---------------------------------------------

Wilbur sat in his armchair, hands clasped over the pages of an old book, whose pages were brown and smelt of old oil. The fire crackled as his eyes moved from line to line, a white noise he was used to hearing, and one that was quite comforting.

His father was, as usual, at the Great Hall, taking part in secret business Wilbur had not the access nor care for. Techno had been out most of the morning, and it was a weight off of Wilbur’s shoulders for them to both be unaccounted for. He did have a certain dismay about being rooted to the house—how he longed to share the moments he had with his friends before Techno’s unfortunate arrival, moments where he had finally felt a part of a world he understood, like most of them had. Still, there was nothing left to do now but wait.

Wait for it to come.

The door slammed open and Wilbur jumped, his peace disturbed and the air filled with noise. Wilbur craned his head to look at Techno, who stomped through the door with a bitter look on his face. Wilbur sighed and rolled his eyes, covering his face with his book. Techno made his way to where Wilbur was sitting, and Wilbur made sure he got the first word.

“You’re back early,” he said, “But I guess that’s default by now.”

Wilbur placed down his book and frowned as the cold eyes of Techno stared straight through him, standing directly in front with a rigid posture and chest that seemed as though it wasn’t breathing. He didn’t look to be in a gaming mood.

“I’ve just had a…chat, with your friend Tommy,” Techno stated gruffly. Wilbur froze. He cleared his throat and stood; eyes locked with Techno, who’s veins looked ready to burst.

“Oh; I bet that was fun. Ha, did he—”

“Did you know he had tamed a dragon and was keeping it in the forest? Did you know his affiliations? Don’t play around with this Wilbur; this is serious business,” he snapped and Wilbur rose in stance. He averted his eyes to the floor for a moment, deciding how to play Techno’s game; did he take one path or the other. In the end, he shoved his hands in his pockets and glared up at Techno.

“Will you kill me too, brother?” he said dryly and Techno growled.

“You are a foolish boy—”

“I’m not really a boy; I’m no younger than you. Man, you might say,” Wilbur snapped and Techno’s eye twitched.

“You think sarcasm will make this any better?” he growled and his scar burned in the flames of the fire, his blood-red eyes poised for a kill, “Do you have no shame?”

“For what, exactly? Share some of that bright knowledge with me and enlighten me, I beg.”

“Treachery, dear brother,” Techno spat and Wilbur barked a dry laugh.

“Is that it? Oh, how your words are funny even without meaning to be, Technoblade. No; I have the honour to be your obedient servant, brother.”

“Do not play around!” Techno shouted and pushed Wilbur back against a wall. Wilbur glared and smacked his hand away, recoiling away from the corner. Techno wiped his hand, and Wilbur pretended it didn’t hurt when he did so.

“You think you’re the victim?” Wilbur spat, “Do you think your legacy will be tarnished if one person stand up to you? How could anything effect you when you are the light of the world we stand on?”

“Shut up, Wilbur.”

“You cannot silence me! Maybe before, but not now! You have no idea what my life was like with you one step ahead everytime! Always in the spotlight, always the favourite of everyone even when we were once equal, at least in your eyes. How you were the one person I could confide in most until you lost all heart you ever owned. Mother died, and so did you! All that was left was a body with a stranger resting inside, and soon even the body became foreign. I was always the second son! I was always lesser! But you; General Technoblade, Captain of the L’Manberg Army, Hunter of Dragons and Destroyer of Men, once the Heir of L’Manberg because it was the one title you were too scared to bear among the others, another responsibility tarnished and passed to me when it was trodden in shit! The other one you threw away was the title of being my brother. Let me tell you one thing, Techno. If you had to choose between saving my life and ridding this island of dragons, you would not save my life. So why should I have an allegiance to this island.” Wilbur huffed with needed breath after saying so much, and Techno only stared back with lifeless eyes, as if he was made of stone. It had been that way for so long it no longer bothered Wilbur anymore.

“Do you dare betray your family, Wilbur?” Techno asked, in a way that was curiously waiting for a reason to attack.

“What has this family ever done for me?” Wilbur spat, “You wouldn’t know—because when you’re here father is always around you, coating you in gold—but when you’re gone it’s like I am too. He ignores me, shuts me in a corner and forgets me—forgets I even exist. Maybe it’s because I resemble Mother too much, but he doesn’t even look me in the eye anymore. He isn’t the same man my father used to be.”

“He’s our father,” Techno whispered, eyes strained but tired, and Wilbur suddenly pondered if he was being too harsh. Never.

“Does shared blood make him a good person? Make anyone a good person?” Wilbur spat. Techno’s fingers clenched around his sword.

“He’s our father,” he repeated, and looked up to meet Wilbur’s eyes with a fiery passion, regaining his stance, “And you are nothing but a traitor.”

Wilbur’s heart plummeted, and his legs shook like they had been kicked in by a horse. Techno growled and moved forward, placing his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder and his mouth to his ear.

“You better make like Theseus, before my sword is soaked in shared blood,” he whispered and pushed Wilbur back, staggering over a line of risen wood. Wilbur’s mouth hung agape as Techno held his sword in his hand and staggered towards the door, his back touching it and hand writhing from the knob. He found it and grasped it, pulling the door open and rushing out of the house, far, far away from his brother’s sword once again.

“When you see Theseus, tell him his time is running out! ALONG WITH YOURS AND THE REST OF YOU PATHETIC REBELS!” Techno shouted out the door as Wilbur ran. He didn’t look back until he was behind the cover of a building, and when he did the door was shut and the sword was no longer watching Wilbur.

---------------------------------------------

“What are we going to do?”

Tommy sat with his hands between his hanging legs, sitting on a log with Mellohi’s wing covering his back. The Triple Stryke looked at him with sad eyes, eyes that Tommy once thought were daring enough to defy anyone. There was no point trying to hide away from the dragon now his worst enemy knew.

Tubbo leaned against a rock with his arms crossed—Ranboo rubbing his knuckles next to him in a way that was more nervous energy than menacing. Wilbur had one knee up on a stump, arms lolling over it and hair blowing in the wind. Niki stood with her arms folded, standing like a dam with pride and willpower, her hair blowing like a flame. They were all watching Tommy with half anticipation and half concern. Their trust and hope was all going into a seventeen-year-old.

“There’s only one thing to do,” Tommy muttered and placed his hand on Mellohi’s side, turning his back to them so he didn’t have to see their longing stares, “Leave. Before we all hang in the gallows.”

Tubbo frowned and stepped forward.

“We run away? Abandon our home—our lives, our friends?”

“Since when has this place ever been a home?” Tommy asked, “If we all leave, then we won’t have any friends still leave. I’m sorry to say, Tubbo, but Schlatt will not weep if we are not around. But speaking of which; Niki, you still have a family, a life—an opportunity here. Techno doesn’t need to know of your involvement, you can stay if you would like. There’s no reason from you to get dragged down with us.”

Niki snorted and sighed, smiling.

“Tommy, you couldn’t get rid of me if your tried. Your life—any of your life. This island holds jack shit for me; and no one else does either. We’re in this together; to Valhalla or nothing.”

Tommy smiled and sighed.

“To Valhalla or nothing,” he whispered and rubbed his knuckles.

“What’s. The. Plan. Then?” Ranboo asked and Wilbur tilted his head.

“What did he say?” he asked but he was ultimately ignored. Wilbur gestured outwards with annoyance, but no one paid him any attention. Niki smiled.

“Pack your things; anything you absolutely need, but nothing too much or too heavy. Say your goodbyes, if you need to,” Tommy said, towards Niki but he also looked at Tubbo, “If you have to, don’t tell them too much. They don’t need to be involved in war.”

“So this is a war, then?”

“If it has to be,” Tommy muttered and met all of their eyes, “He said I had three days. If we leave tonight, he’ll never know until tomorrow morning. And we’ll have the upper hand, it’ll take them a while to catch up to us.”

“Yeah, but a whole fuckin’ armada can and will easily catch up with one simple boat, that’ll probably be ragged if we hassle one at all,” Wilbur protested and Tommy grinned.

“Who said anything about a boat?” he questioned and turned to place a hand on the oblivious Mellohi.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Tubbo asked, doubt on his face.

“Our best chance of escape is through Mellohi—or should I say on. The skies are his domain, and armadas can’t fly. I think he might be able to carry us all—Triple Stryke’s are extremely strong—but it’s worth a shot.”

“Even if that works, there’s still one downfall,” Wilbur said, “Where do we go? Believe me, if there were islands nearby that housed dragons risk-free, my family would have obliterated them.”

Tommy pondered his words, and his own thoughts. It was true they were in a part of the Archipelago that was anti-dragons, and any island might have people. If only there were islands that could have both—. He paused and looked towards his shield, that rested against the log he sat on. A place where people and dragons were free, a place where people loved dragons like he did. A place where they were tamed, and a place where the people hated L’Manberg with a passion. Tommy leapt up and smiled.

“I know where to go. Great Thor, of course, I always knew. It was in front of us the whole time!”

“Where?”

“I can’t say. Not aloud; it’s far too risky. We don't know who's listening—or who might tell. It doesn’t matter how much we trust each other; a knife to the throat will make anyone talk I don’t even know myself where it is, but I’m sure I can find it. WE can find it,” he patted Mellohi on the side and strapped his shield to his back, “Meet here at eleven o’clock tonight. Take the darkest route, and take a route away from the Chief’s house. Be ready. We don’t know how dangerous it could be, but please. Trust me.”

Everyone shared looks, ones of disgruntlement, doubt and fear. But, they all turned to him and nodded, then moved in different directions. Tommy sighed and rubbed Mellohi under the chin, who purred and rubbed his wing on Tommy’s back.

“It’s okay, mate. We’re gonna be okay. As soon as we get off this place, you’re free,” he whispered and turned to look at Wilbur, who was tying his shoes.

“Will?” he called and Wilbur looked up, and then stood up.

“Yeah?” he answered and Tommy paused, biting his lip, “Don’t die.”

Wilbur grinned dryly and pushed his hair out of his eyes, “I wasn’t planning on it.”

-----------------------------------------------

They all came that night. Bags packed, shoulders heavy and mouths closed. Tommy nodded at them as they came, though they were at different times. Wilbur was last, and Tommy expected it nonetheless. He seemed out of breath and had two satchels, but he nodded as he saw Tommy's expression.

“In and Out. No witness’s,” he whispered and Tommy breathed out in relief.

“Good. Now, this is the tricky part,” he replied and faced Mellohi’s who was behaving very well even though it was late at night (Tommy may have given him extra fish to keep him quiet, but it was also a long flight to where they were headed).

“Me, Niki and Ranboo will ride on top. Wilbur and Tubbo will have to be carried otherwise.”

Tubbo narrowed his eyes, at least Tommy could see by the moonlight.

“Otherwise?”

“Either in the claws or the tails. Your choice,” Tommy hissed.

“Isn’t that a bit risky. Or dangerous?” Tubbo snapped.

“There’s no other way; there isn’t enough room on Mellohi’s back for all five of us, and I don’t think his back could deal with that much weight anyway. Besides, would you like to have Ranboo hanging over the sea?” Tommy retorted and Tubbo closed his mouth. Then, he helped Niki up on Mellohi’s back, then Ranboo and then pulled himself up. Tommy placed his hands on Mellohi’s horns and rubbed his head.

“Nice and gentle, mate. Pick them two up, and then be as quiet but as fast as you can,” he whispered and placed a map he had been writing under one of his hands. Mellohi growled softly and stood, beating his wings and stretching. Ranboo yelped and wrapped his arms around Tommy’s waist, closing his eyes shut.

“Hold on tight,” Tommy whispered and patted Mellohi on the head. The Triple Stryke reached out for Wilbur and Tubbo, who hesitantly let Mellohi grab them in his claws. He beat his wings and lifted off the ground, getting higher and higher until they were as tall as the trees. Tommy knew the four of them would be either anxious or surprised, but he didn’t let them stop him. He turned Mellohi towards the front of the island, towards the sea.

“Lets go, Mellohi,” he whispered and Mellohi growled in agreement, kicking off towards the clouds at exhilarating speed. They raced towards the sky, spinning vertically until Mellohi spun and opened up like a ball, gliding along the skyline.

Tommy turned and watched as, above the clouds, they flew alongside their island, getting further and further away. The island the had grown up on. The island that was their home. Their island that was—for most of them—the only place they had ever known. Tommy felt free as they abandoned it, but something in his heart did ache as they disappeared into the great beyond. But maybe, and hopefully, they would find a new home, a place where they could express themselves. Make new friends, meet new dragons. Live in peace, and learn to grow.

Or maybe, they would find the people Tommy was looking for, and end this war once and for all.

Chapter Text

When Technoblade was a little boy—probably no older than five—he became very ill. He was permitted to his bedside, a fever in his head and a slower heartbeat in his chest. It was an illness that had tortured Viking’s for years, took few from their villages but couldn’t be traced. The Scourge of Hela, the doctors called it. Some survived, as it was an illness kept contained in one’s body, but others weren’t so lucky. His mother, being the loving kindred she was, never left his side.

She held out hope for the best, and she never stopped being there for him. His father was doubtful, since an ailment like this had spread through bodies like air, taken them out like arrows and the souls were left crawling on the ground away from Valhalla. Phil was there when he could, but his duties as Chief always came first. Techno realised that as soon as he could.

Wilbur, his twin, his brother of blood, was scared for him. He was his mother—in likeness and spirit—but he was also his father, as much as he would thrive against it now. He was there always, but his doubt crept through his throat like a maggot learning to fly, to spread, to infest. Techno could remember, even now, how he once heard his brother cry by his side, thinking his twin would not hear him and not protest. That was true. He could not speak, only frozen to his bed and hear those dreadful noises. Even through his baggy eyes, Techno saw his fear. He felt it like he felt his illness. He felt the hope slip away.

His eyes—though they were born red as the burning flames left by dragons—blurred and he heard whispers of them dimming. His hair—once a shade of oak—lost its colour and became white like snow, but at least snow had a kindness to it. Every symptom to come before death, Techno had. He even felt himself slipping away at times, and without Wilbur he might’ve.

But Technoblade was a fighter. He was born one, and he would become one. He pushed past the standards set for him and rose like a phoenix. His mother always said he had the heart of a general and the soul of a dancing flame—one could lead armies to victories, and the other would lead a chorus of death, but be beautiful while they danced. After weeks, Techno could move around without feeling like a ship sailing on land. He could smile without ache and laugh without anguish.

When he was able to walk again, his mother took him to the forest. No one was around to protest, and Techno wouldn’t dream of it. He took her hand and walked through plants that were always and would always be full of life, at least in her lifetime. The trees breathed with green life, and the grass grew, never knowing sin of the world. His mother walked him down a certain path, and they ended up in a certain patch of flowers.

Techno’s mouth had hung open and he had run towards them, reaching out to touch the beautiful petals.

“Techno, don’t touch those,” his mother called and Techno staggered back.

“Why not, Mama?” he called, frowning and crossing his arms in a way that was more cute than annoyed.

“These are special flowers I’ve been tending to. Their petals are extremely delicate—and very special,” his mother explained and sat herself next to Techno on her knees, stroking the stems, “But, I have brought you here to meet them.”

She sat Techno down and undid the braid in his hair. Techno blushed as white hair fell in front of his eyes, and he hated every second of looking at it.

“I don’t like my hair, Mama,” Techno moaned and his mother sighed.

“I know Techno, but I’m going to make sure you never have to feel that way again.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see, these flowers are very special, and very rare. They are the most expensive at the market, but I have my ways. They are called ‘Occulta Apparentia’ or Occulriums, as we say.”

“I’ve never heard of those before,” Techno said slowly and his mother chuckled.

“Not many have. Stories go that they grow only in the land of all dragons, and there they are tended to by their flames. One day, a dragon took seeds of them on its wings and flew towards islands, spreading the flowers everywhere for us to enjoy. They also say that it shot its flames towards the sky and made the sun, but I don’t think that part is true.”

“Why would a dragon give us pretty flowers Mama?” Techno asked and felt his mother pour something over his head.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe they wanted to make peace, but men were too blinded by war that they didn’t notice flowers in the ground. The point is to nurture those around you that seem different, because they are in dire need of help as well. And even though they’re different, they still want life too, just like you. But, do you have any idea what Occulriums do?”

“No Mama.”

“Anything that touches their petals will be stained forever, in your skin, clothes...or even hair. They can grow without any need of human touch, and even being ripped from the ground will not stop them. The stories say they were enchanted like that by dragons, so that if anyone gave them any harm, they would always live with their consequences. But they can be used for good, to give people new chances,” his mother had said and Techno felt peaceful as she braided his hair once more, singing a melody he heard whenever his mother was at home in the forest.

When she was done, she spun Techno around and held up a small mirror for him to look at. Techno gasped, as the hair on his head was now a beautiful, peaceful pink. He patted his hands on his hair, and his hands remained clean. Techno had squealed with happiness and wrapped his hand around his mother.

“Thank you, Mama!” he cried and squeezed her as hard as he could with his small hands. His mother laughed with joy and plucked a single yellow rose from the ground around them, placing it through his hair and cupping his chin.

“I want you to live your happiest life, Techno. I don’t want anything to drag you down and make you think you aren’t good enough for this world, because it’s the world that isn’t good enough for you. You are the flowers that leave a mark on people, because if they are good they will be blessed, but if they are bad they will forever be cursed by your presence. You’re a little storm, Technoblade, but you bring people together instead of apart. After all, yellow is the colour of joy, pink is the colour of peace, and I hope all you ever know is peace.”

----------------------------------------

Three years later on that day, his mother was taken by dragons and presumed dead. To Techno, there was no presumed. His mother was gone, and so were her flowers. There had been a time where Techno had tried to tend to them, only for them to wither and end up under Techno’s boot. Tears fell down his face, and he could never quite remove the pink and red stains from the bottom of his boot.

The flowers had lost their meaning anyway. No dragon could bring joy and peace to the world when all they did was take and take, no matter who or why. Even a woman who believed in their goodness, a woman who had committed no sin except believe too much. Techno had cried at her funeral, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

When other children had laughed at him—either for his hair or his tears—they had been introduced to his fist, and his feet and his teeth. Their faces were rubbed in dirt, and the dirt was stained with salty tears. He had fought all of them, and he had no mercy or care for their cries. Wilbur had usually been around to pull him away, pull him off them before there was another funeral. No one would make fun of his mother. No one would make fun of him.

Maybe it was then that Techno had lost most of his emotions. Or maybe it was when the voices started.

Yes, there had been a time in Techno’s life where he heard voices in his head, over and over, every day, every second. They screamed for blood, and it didn’t matter whose. The amount of times he had watched sheep frolic in the fields, his hands clenching the fences and watching all of them carefully with his dripping red eyes. The amount of times he had longed for dragons to soar over the village with flames blazing so he could strike them down and silence his voices.

The amount of times he had hovered over Wilbur’s sleeping, breathing, body with a knife clenched in both hands, shaking and twitching in the air and his face contorted in misery. He stood frozen in time, and the knife always remained hovering. He was glad his brother never woke in the night, for he couldn’t bear it if he woke and saw Techno, poised to kill, and his face would turn to fright. Techno was glad he was the only one that knew.

They chanted in sync every quaking minute: blood, Blood, BLOOD! Techno never showed his agony on his face, never brought it to the surface for others to pick at like a puzzle. The most he would do was wince when it got too loud. It was only ever his mind that was aware, and it certainly wasn’t to go and tell anyone.

One day, Techno drew a sword to practice battle and spar, and the voices had been quenched…for now. It became abundantly clear what he had to do for himself, to stop everyday from becoming a timer tick, tick, ticking away at how long it took for him to go mad. It became clear what he would have to be to appease them, and no matter how much Wilbur would hate him for it, he wouldn’t stop until he was normal again.

Each day he sparred, each kill he made, each life he took—human or dragon— the voices got quieter and quieter, a gentle whisper in his mind until they were so quiet that they vanished. But Techno’s actions didn’t. He had killed for so long and so much that it was routine. It was who he was. General Technoblade, Captain of the L’Manberg Army, Hunter of Dragons and Destroyer of Men. Maybe he was once an heir, but he had thrown that away as soon as he had the chance, despite the one strand of care that was left in him for Wilbur, to see his fate ruined by something he did not, could not and would not carry.

Maybe he even enjoyed who he was, what he did. Maybe he relished in his actions and took them head on. Or maybe, Techno was just scared the voices would come back if he stopped, so he made sure one species would never come back again.

He made up some part of his mind that did it for others. For other children who wouldn’t have to lose their parents. For other people not to lose their friends, their teachers, their partners. But that was just for his own benefit

Techno himself had never been very interested in a partner. He knew that he could get any maiden on any island he wanted, but he simply decided against it. The ones he encountered or had the gall to approach him were only full of lust and the power he had, they wanted. No, better to stay on task than to wander away from it, keep his eyes on his enemies than his sweethearts.

And it seemed his enemies were further away than he thought.

----------------------------------------

“What do you mean, they’re gone?” Phil questioned and Techno sighed, hovering over the ground and stroking his fingers over the soil.

"They’re gone; left the island in the dead of night and took all they could with them. Smart move, but one I already anticipated. Headed in the clouds, I suppose. Shame, I thought it would’ve been later.”

“So you knew this would happen?” Phil said and Techno rose, leering over his father.

“It’s only natural for gazelles to run from lions. Tommy is a smart boy, and he knows when he is outplayed. However, he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks.”

“Where did he go then? And who else is with him?”

“Father, your impatience and simple mind does get on my nerves,” Techno said simply and turned back to the ground, examining the patterns stamped into the dusty soil.

“If you’re hiding things from me Technoblade—”

"You’ll what?” he muttered and Phil was silent, “Believe me, I want nothing more than to end their childplay, no matter how much they think they’re doing a righteous act. But, you’ll find that Tommy is one to leave tracks in places he doesn’t even think about. He is too quick to act, and too slow to think. Reminds me of someone, actually."

“If you—”

“I don’t mean you, Philza. You are the other way around. No, he was raised by Schlatt, was he not? He was bound to have picked up a few of his qualities,” Techno stated and finally stood, facing his father and watching as soldiers paced around the area—it was no longer a quiet forest, now the people had finally made noise there, “You do your role and speak to him about his boys. You’ll find that I plot our course while you do so, and prepare our soldiers.”

“We’ll need them? And I’m guessing you know where the boy is? And his company?”

“Yes, we’ll need soldiers. They’ve started a war, and by Thor if we don’t fight in it. Yes, I have a good idea. The only fault is where exactly it is, for our troops have had bad luck at that recently.”

Phil’s eyes raised and he scowled.

“The riders,” he spat and Techno raised his head.

“If Tommy knows more than we think, then he’ll be looking for them too. And if we find him first, we’ll find them too. And then every dragon we need will be in our possession. Just as you would like, Father. You get your prize, and I get mine. Is it a deal?”

“A deal?” Phil asked, narrowing his eyes, “What on Earth for? Are we not working towards the same goal? Aiming towards the same target? Looking towards the same prize?”

“Unfortunately not. You aim to find them and hurt them, but you only want to rip their dragons away. And though that is my job, I seek to get the people instead. I do not let people outsmart me, outstrategize me or sneak away untouched without more than a few scars. Those riders were the first, and Tommy will be the last. I will go after them personally, and see that they get the punishment they deserve. You will let me do to them what I wish. I will let you do with the dragons what you wish. Is it a deal?”

“You do not care for dragons?” Phil asked curiously, and Techno felt his patience wearing thin. Speaking to morons did that to him, after a while.

“Dragons, Phil, were never my true enemy,” he explained, “They are monsters, beasts, sin in true form. They should be exterminated, but only because of what people can do with them. There would be no revolt without them, and the sooner they are killed the sooner that people can be the first targeted in problems. The sooner I can do my true job. Is. It. A. Deal?”

Phil studied him for a moment, hesitant, before taking his hand and shaking it. Techno slid his hand back in his pocket and turned, his cloak billowing behind him.

“By the way, Wilbur is with the boy!” he called, not bothered about the look on Phil’s face behind him, “And Niki and the boy’s friends! Talk to Schlatt, no matter how much you dislike him!”

--------------------------------------

Techno strolled through the forest, holding his mask in his hand and looking around the trees. It had been quite some time since he had been in the forests of L’Manberg—at least these parts—and he had looked very different then. Something picked at his curiosity and Techno took a left, not rushing but taking a gradual pace along his chosen route. Something stirred in his gut, but he pushed it aside and remained painted with a blank face. There was no point letting his emotions—what was left anyway—get the better of him.

That was lost when Techno stumbled into his mother’s garden.

Techno took a harsh breath through his nostril and stopped, his legs frozen and eyes in one place. The land was filled with flowers. Tall, large flowers bloomed to knee height around every blade of grass, nestled on top of each other and bringing colour to the area. Vines hung from trees and bushes cuddled against trunks. Pinks, reds, yellows. Techno saw every colour he knew in that one small space. And it broke him.

He moved forward a step, making no noise as to not provoke any harsh emotions out of him. These were flowers, simple, silly flowers that only grew to live and take up room of everything else. Techno did not care for flowers. He was a soldier, a dragon hunter, a leader. General Technoblade, Captain of the L’Manberg Army, Hunter of Dragons and Destroyer of—

A single yellow rose broke out of the undergrowth, swaying as his cloak blew passed it and it danced back and forth at him, facing him, taunting him. Techno stopped in his tracks and kept his eyes on it like it was a target. But it wasn’t; it was a rose. A harmless, selfless yellow rose that existed to provide beauty to the world and nature. Something that only provided peace, but if provoked would provide harm.

Techno knelt down, dropping to his knees without even realising and losing all control of his legs. He reached out and grabbed the rose, grasping it gently and snapping it by the stem so he could hold it. The layers of golden yellow stared up at him, coating him in light and Techno spun it slowly in his grip.

“I want you to live your happiest life, Techno. I don’t want anything to drag you down and make you think you aren’t good enough for this world, because it’s the world that isn’t good enough for you. You are the flowers that leave a mark on people, because if they are good they will be blessed, but if they are bad they will forever be cursed by your presence. You’re a little storm, Technoblade, but you bring people together instead of apart. After all, yellow is the colour of joy, pink is the colour of peace, and I hope all you ever know is peace.”

Techno placed his lips against the petals of the rose, letting a single tear fall down his cheek to his chin, dropping to the ground. He took in a deep breath and placed the rose in one of the buttonholes of his cloak.

“Yellow is also the colour of illness, Mother. Is that why you gave it to me that day? A victory?” he muttered, pondering the thoughts of the past and stood, his eyes resting on a bunch of Occulriums grouped together by a tree, whose trunk was stained in different colours, “I’ll make you proud, Mother. I might not have before, but I will now. I won’t let you die in vain; I promise. Just like I promise to end the beast that gave me this scar.” Techno drew his sword and shoved it downwards into the ground, placing both hands on it and closing his eyes.

“Lo, there do I see my father. Lo, there do I see my mother, and my sisters, and my brothers. Lo, there do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning. Lo, they do call to me. They bid me take my place among them, in the halls of Valhalla. Where the brave may live forever.”

A speech for his mother, and for the soldiers that would inevitably die in battle in a few days. For the insolent pests who had been in his way long enough, and would finally taste the consequences they deserved.

Techno pulled his sword out of the ground and nodded once, wiping away his wet cheek on his sleeve and hurrying away before he could do anymore—or before anyone saw him in a flowerbed. As he wiped his cheek, he traced his fingers across his scar. He still remembered the day he was presented with it, the day it was fresh and burning and red, just as clearly as he remembered what he had eaten that morning. Which had been nothing.

As much as Techno had wanted to avoid it, he knew he would eventually face someone who tried to rival him. He just didn’t expect it to be on a battlefield, facing a child with a little too much fight in him.

---------------------------------------------------

“Tommy!” Wilbur called and Tommy sighed, looking down over the side of Mellohi to see Wilbur, hair flying around madly and eyes bulging.

“What?” Tommy called, more annoyed at his constant callings than amused at his appearance.

“How much longer as we gonna fly? My face has gone from aching to numb to non-existent! Tubbo is fucking asleep, Niki is too and Ranboo has had his eyes closed since we began—and he’s awake!” Wilbur cried and Tommy shrugged, “I mean, isn’t Mellohi shattered?”

That was a good question. To be fair, he had become slower in the last hour, and Tommy didn’t want them dropping into the middle of the ocean. He reached forward and patted Mellohi on the head.

“You okay, mate?” he asked and Mellohi growled quietly, almost tiredly, “Do we need to stop?”

Mellohi looked up at Tommy with impatient eyes and Tommy sighed, scanning the sea for any islands. They were on the right track, Tommy felt, but there weren’t many islands in sight on their flight. Only a few whales, tiny landmasses Tommy refused to call islands and a Scauldron or two.

Then, Tommy saw a flicker of something below them and shook his head, looking back and pulling Mellohi.

“What the…Mellohi, check out down there,” he said and flew towards the sea, slowly but effectively. Once they were past the clouds, Tommy saw clearly what he thought he had saw. An island. And a bloody big one at that. But, there was something wrong with it. It seemed to be there, and then it would almost ‘glitch’ out and disappear. Tommy rubbed his eyes in confusion, but it still happened

“Okay Mellohi; let’s land,” he said and the Triple Stryke growled in agreement, quickly flying towards the island, noticeably quicker than he had been in the last few hours, but there was the promise of land in store for him. They landed heavily on the beach below, Mellohi skidding into the sand and Tommy nearly hanging off the side of him. Everyone asleep was now awake, and Ranboo opened his eyes at once and leapt off Mellohi, crawling across the sand and breathing heavily. He lay across it with his arms spread and looked sideways instead of up.

“That. Was. The. Worst. Experience. Of. My. Life. Ever,” Ranboo said with disgruntlement, chest rising and falling like a drum.

Well, it might not be over yet," Tommy mumbled. He got off the back of his beast and his legs wobbled as he walked, holding his hands out for balance. He heard Tubbo and Wilbur groan (probably from extracting most of the impact of crashing) but saw Tubbo move over to help Ranboo up. Tommy turned and helped Niki get off Mellohi. She landed in the sand and stretched, rubbing her eyes and looking around with wide eyes.

“Where are we?” she asked and Tommy shrugged, getting a flask from his satchel and opening it.

“Just somewhere to rest,” he said before taking a big gulp of water, “Take all the time you need to get back on your feet and then we’ll get back in the sky. Maybe even explore the island, though, before we go. There’s something strange about it—"

Tommy was interrupted by a loud roar in the distance and everyone turned to its direction. Though some of the sky was hidden by that strange force, there was definitely something moving towards them. Quickly. Loudly. Unexpectantly.

“Uhh, you guys hear that right?” Tubbo asked and Ranboo nodded. Tommy took away his shield from his back and held it out in front of him, one hand wrapped around the handle and the other on the button. Not that something that sounded so big would need a dart to take it out.

“Stand guard guys. This isn’t something small,” Tommy said and everyone moved towards him. Niki pulled her axe off of her back and held it out in front of her. Tubbo took two identical daggers out of his belt and held them out in polar directions. Mellohi growled as clicked his tails, uncoiling them and spreading his wings wide. Tommy looked to the sky, with fear and curiosity.

The shape struck through the clouds and became clear in their view, obstructing the sky and leering down at them. It was a dragon; Tommy could clearly see. It had a large head with relatively small blue eyes and a long neck with sharp rows of spikes. Four legs hung limply in the air, each ending with three claws, the back legs bigger and more muscular than the fore ones. Its wings were big compared to the body, ending in two sharp claws on each of them. Its tail was long and has many rows of spikes on it. The dragon had scorched dusty, sandy scales covering it, though most were a mossy green and some like a darker brick. Now Tommy thought about it, it seemed almost coated in a layer of sand. It glared down at the six of them, roaring and slashing its tail in the sky.

It was a Sandbuster, Tommy could tell, but it seemed larger than a normal Sandbuster, but not as though it was a Titan-Wing. But it wasn’t the dragon that made him scared, or made their faces clench with fear. It was what was one the back of it.

Standing poised to fight on the back of the Sandbuster, coated in the same scales as the dragon, was a creature. It stood no taller than a man, but it’s face was gone apart from a few small eye holes and some spikes on its head. It held a long sword with two longs metal snakes wrapped around the handle. It pointed it at them and looked down, the Sandbuster roaring.

“You mean something like that?!” Niki cried and Tommy only stared at the creature, his heart beating in his ears. They had escaped the island for peace, and now they were getting more violence. And more questions were being asked than Tommy would like, instead of being answered. Just another day in the Archipelago, he thought.

Chapter Text

“What the fuck is that?” Wilbur cried, staggering back. Mellohi roared up at the creature in anger, but it only looked down with no emotion shown on its face. Tommy couldn’t move.

“The dragon—or the thing riding it?”

“Er, both?”

“It’s a Sandbuster—EVERYONE GET DOWN!” Tommy cried as the Sandbuster opened its mouth to fire and everyone leapt behind a rock as its flames burst out, forming crystals as they cooled, “They shoot beams of light that form hardened crystals when cooled. They can’t be in the sunlight—else they’ll get burned.”

“Well that one fucking can!” Tubbo shouted, placing his arms over his head as the Sandbuster shot again. Tommy bit his lip and crawled towards Mellohi, placing one hand on the saddle and climbing up atop his back.

“You guys stay behind cover. I’ll go and find out what this thing wants. The hard way or the easy way. Depends if it can talk or not,” he muttered and Mellohi flew out behind the rock, spinning into the air and shooting a large fireball at the Sandbuster.

It roared in anger and flew back towards the clouds, but only for a moment as the creature pointed its sword down and the dragon flew back towards them. Tommy held up his shield, and the creature tilted its head. Mellohi ducked its beams and clicked his tail, winding them together and reaching out to slash the Sandbuster. It dodged his attack and whacked Mellohi with its tail, making the Triple Stryke roar and head backwards towards the beach.

Tommy pulled up on his horns and pulled them back up towards the sky. Cursing, Tommy turned his shield and opened the hatch, spinning the dial that held the darts around until it clicked on the one he wanted. Tommy closed the hatch and held the shield out in front of him. He had his finger over the trigger, his hands turning as the Sandbuster ducked in and out of sight.

“Come on, come on—NOW!” he shouted and pressed the button just as the Sandbuster flew in front of them, firing its beams as Mellohi fired a fireball towards it. The hatch opened up and a dart flew in the air towards the dragon, its feathers tinted in green.

It soared. It hit. It roared.

The Sandbuster cried out in anger and pain, the dart still sticking out of its scales. Its eyes rolled back and it lost control, falling straight down instead of flying straight up. The creature on its back moved to pull the dart out of its scales and threw it away, almost angrily. It manoeuvred across the dragons back and leapt off of it, falling through the sky. Tommy turned Mellohi and watched, dumbfoundedly, as the creature began to fly. Wings grew across its arms and it spread them, gliding across the air and turning away from the dragon, flying down towards the beach and landing gracefully as the dragon landed with a crash.

Tommy frowned and surged down towards the beach, placing his shield on his back and watching the creature carefully. Wilbur and the others clamoured out over the rocks as he landed, meeting him and watching the creature curiously. Its wings were now gone, recoiling back along his arms and folded in. Tommy realised then that they weren’t real, only a mechanical creation, much like his shield.

The creature placed his hand upon the Sandbuster’s side, which was lying rather defeated on it’s front and unable to move, only looking up at the creature in pain. Tommy held his shield out again, the mechanisms clicking as he wound it up. At that noise, the creature snapped up and turned to him, raising its sword. It tilted its head at them, and then dropped his sword and placed it back in his belt, then raised its hand to its neck.

The creature took away its mask and a man stared back.

He had tanned skin, oak eyes, black shaggy hair. A long, bitter scar with several spikes and splashes ran through his left eye, the top of his face, his eyebrow, into his mouth and down his chin, his jaw disfigured and a golden tooth in place of where the scar would be if it had been impacted into his mouth, but one side of his mouth rested permanently open, though it seemed a smile he was certainly scowling. A tattoo of a shape of diamond outlined the same eye with the scar, as if he had tried to hide it. The man glared at them and spat at the ground, gripping his sword.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled and Tommy choked over his words, taken aback at the man himself, “HMMM?”

“Err, us, I mean, what about—”

“Quackity!”

Tommy turned to look past the newly-discovered-man, who also did, as another man ran towards them, skidding down a hill and his eyes wide. He too wore a suit like the man before them, only his was covered in bumpy purple scales, sometimes orange accents, and a shape which could only be described as a small wing hung under his stomach and over the top of his legs. His boots were minty blue and thick, wrapped tightly in thin ropes, large shoes protruding from his feet. His hands were gloved and a long, sharp diamond looking shape sat on his forearm and around his neck sat a wreath of wood built into his suit. A belt wrapped around his waist and collected many an objects there, sitting idly and waiting to be picked up. His head, however, was fully visible and shaggy brown hair perched on his head, eyes purple but seemed to swirl with green, though Tommy guessed it was just a trick of the light.

He stared dumbfoundedly at them all and then turned to the man’s side.

“Are you alright? I heard explosions and—”

“Don’t reveal my name, Karl,” the man hissed and then sighed, “Shit. They’re enemies, don’t drop your frame—and hold up your weapon!”

The man’s mouth opened like an ‘o’, like he had suddenly remembered something and reached into his belt, picking up a blowgun and pointing it at Tommy. Mellohi growled loudly and the man’s eyes widened, looking from him to Tommy with curiosity.

“Does this dragon belong to you?” he asked calmly and the other man Tommy presumed was Quackity whacked him on the arm.

“Stop fucking talking to them!” he hissed and glared at Tommy, “They’re enemies—they probably enslaved this dragon, I mean look at them. Err, actually don’t, I guess they don’t look like much. But that could be their ploy and anyway, we don’t even know who fucking they work for!”

His eyes shifted to Wilbur and he scoffed, rolling his head back.

“Oh, are you fucking kidding me?!”

“What?”

“They’re L’Manbergians! That’s that Chief’s son! Shit; The Blade will probably be on our asses any fucking minute now!”

“We’re not here to sell you out—” Wilbur said through gritted teeth but Quackity interrupted.

“Bullshit! Why would you ever betray Daddy Dearest—or ever Terrific Technoblade. You couldn’t do it once, so you wouldn’t do it now. And you certainly aren’t one for change, Wilbur.”

Something struck Wilbur, and his fists clenched, teeth gritted and brows furrowed.

“Yet, I can see you haven’t changed at all Quackity. All you’ve done is add on a layer of scales and wings; but I’m sure those are only protection for yourself. Wait, no, you do still have that scar. Does it still sting?”

Quackity glared at Wilbur, and Wilbur glared back. Quackity strode forwards until he was close enough and raised his sword to Wilbur’s neck.

“Hey, hey, hey; Q—” Karl started, stepping forward but Quackity pushed his hand out, never losing eye contact with Wilbur.

“Let me have this, Karl. Let me have this one moment to teach this arrogant, spoilt, mutinous fucker a lesson!”

Everyone started talking, shouting, and Tommy sighed at the hustle. He patted Mellohi on the side and tilted his head towards the crowd. Mellohi spread his wings wide, shook a little, and then let out a loud, deafening roar.

“Can everyone calm the fuck down?!” Tommy shouted and Mellohi roared, softer, raising his tails and clicking with them. Everyone turned to look at the two of them and Quackity watched Mellohi carefully. His Sandbuster—who was now no longer numbed by Tommy’s dart—growled softly and stepped next to him; glaring deeply at Mellohi, who did the same.

“Look; I don’t know what’s going on here or who you are or how you two know each other, but we came here to escape L’Manberg—and the Chief, and The Blade, and ever other fucking arsehole in that place—not help it! And by fuck are we going to get asylum, even if this isn’t the place I was looking for, though I think now it might be. So, lower your sword, take us to whoever’s in charge and prepare your defences. Because we didn’t get away that easily, not with Technoblade and you weren’t lying when you said he was coming. So, are you gonna listen to us, or do you want a matching scar to go with that?”

Quackity closed his mouth, his tongue moving around inside like he was contemplating his decisions. His other hand clenched and he lowered his sword—Tommy feeling sudden relief now Wilbur wasn’t one step away from dying. Quackity scowled and met Tommy’s eyes.

“Fine, if you’re telling the truth. If not, well, our guy in charge will be able to sus you out pretty quick. You can follow Karl, but I’m going to the back,” he snapped and walked with his head held to the air behind then while Karl smiled awkwardly at Tommy and tilted his head back to the rest of the island. Tommy made an awkward face and followed suite, Mellohi closely behind.

They walked quietly, most separated in chunks and Tommy kept his eyes on the sky. It was where he felt safest, after all. The island though, wasn’t bad at all, at least the scenery. Large, beautiful flowers burst out from each blade of grass and trees grew to create canopies of green leaves.

Halfway through walking, Karl manoeuvred his way next to Tommy and hesitantly looked at him. Mellohi growled slightly but Tommy held up his hand to him and rubbed his snout. Karl smiled at the both of them and stuck his hands into his pockets.

“So; Triple Stryke, huh?” he questioned and Tommy shrugged, “Don’t see a lot of those.”

“What, they rare or something?”

“No, well; you don’t see them frequently and we’ve got barely any here, but it’s not like they’re near extinct. They’re just not your regular Gronckle or Nadder or Razorwhip," Tommy turned to look at Karl, who was busy watching a butterfly, and his brows furrowed.

“Razorwhips aren’t common; they’re unique and commonly found on only one island. It’s unlikely to see one on any island, and they are Sharp Class, so they know to do more than a little better in a fight,” Tommy explained and Karl’s lips curled upwards.

“I was just testing you. You do know you’re dragons, then. That’s good. I was worried you might’ve done what Quackity said to this one.”

“Never.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Tommy scuffed his feet in the dirt road and turned to look at Karl out of the side of his eyes.

“What’s up with the island?” he asked and Karl narrowed his eyes, titling his head and giving Tommy a puzzled look, “Like, when we were in the sky it kept disappearing, then reappearing and was hard to see.”

Karl’s eyes went wide and he nodded, wagging his finger in the air.

“Oh, yeah, those are just Changewing skins,” he explained simply, “We usually get a load of them when they shed, so we thought to just use them to cloak the island. Put them on tall walls, and they worked for the most part. But, there’s no brain to control them, so they don’t really work at the moment.”

That made sense.

“Can I ask you one other thing, though?” Tommy said and Karl turned to him again, still walking the path without really looking. Living here for a long while must have the path blueprinted in his mind.

“What?”

“Are you two and whoever else is here the same people that left L’Manberg around eight years ago? The people that go around destroying trapper ships and pissing off the Chief?” Karl smiled and turned back to the path, “Sure are.”

“Then you’re the same people I’ve been trying to find. To meet and stay with so we can get as far away from that place as possible.”

“Though, I never was a L’Manberg citizen. It was never my home, never lived there, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, everyone else lived there their whole lives and eventually left, but I was never there to begin with. They found me, one day, washed up in the ocean with only my dragon. I remember not where I came from before, or who I was with. My first memory is that day, and everything that came after it,” Karl explained and Tommy listened with an open heart, taking in what he said.

“I guess you’re lucky never to have experienced that place to begin with. But I wouldn’t say you’re lucky about your company,” Tommy said and turned around to look at Quackity, who was walking at the back of the line they had formed and looking angrily at Wilbur. Karl scoffed playfully and sighed.

“No, he’s not bad, Quackity. He just acts that way, but it’s because of all that past anger inside of him. He’s harsh because he cares, and he cares a lot. He wants to protect us, he wants to protect the dragons, he wants to protect himself. Well, not himself; I don’t think Quackity gives a shit about himself, not if any of us were on the line. His dignity. Because if he has to live, I think he at least wants to live respected by people, just a bit.”

Tommy nodded in a way that didn’t really seem to understand, so Karl pressed on.

“You know he duelled The Blade once?” Karl suggested and Tommy snapped his head in his direction, eyes wide, “Yeah, when they were back on L’Manberg. I don’t know from experience, but he told me, once. They all used to be friends, once. Quackity, Wilbur, The Blade, everyone else. It was all they could do to get by living there. But then, The Blade changed. He became harsh, hostile, unresponsive. He became a threat to them. Quackity didn’t like that. He challenged him to a duel, to prove himself, to prove his respect. His scar was what remained from it. It wasn’t long after that until they left, but they never took Wilbur with them. I don’t think he even knew why, or that they even were. Things were bitter between him and the rest, especially between him and Quackity. He was The Blade’s brother, after all. Quackity’s never actually told me why he resents him so, but I’ve also never asked. Never wanted to, to tell the truth. We all have secrets; some we want to share and others we dread not to. It’s none of our business if someone have a secret they don’t want to tell.”

Tommy listened tentatively to his words and nodded, looking to his feet and causing an avalanche of his own thoughts to fall through. Even if he didn’t understand it, Karl was right.

“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled and Karl only smiled.

“Haven’t you ever had moments like that? Like something is to valuable to give up, even if it means feeling like the end of the world?”

Tommy thought. Of course he had secrets. He had secrets now, secrets he didn’t even know were secrets, secrets he had shared but were still secrets to some. Other people kept secrets from him, and it wasn’t as if it was a shocking occurrence. The only true person you could trust was yourself, and sometimes even that was hard. Memories of past betrayals and past secrets, memories he wasn’t even sure were his of war and objects he treasured, memories of sharing things with people just for them to circle back around and meet him again, this time in the back. He met Karl’s eyes and nodded, with a small smile curling from his lips.

“Yeah, I guess I have.”

Karl grinned and turned back to look at the ongoing path, and then his eyes raised and he stopped, putting out an arm like a barrier and looking up carefully.

“We’re here.”

Tommy followed his gaze and he gasped, his mouth hanging open. Hidden among the foliage and nested into the side of a small mountain was a large stone wall, a border one might say. Two large walls sat on either side of a bamboo gate, one that locked shut tight. Moss seeped into the cracks and vines hung over a gate, but the thing that caught his attention most was what sat on the poles at the end of the walls. Large stone dragons sat neatly on one pole each, their tails still waving in the air but now frozen, their wings tucked tightly to their sides. They seemed almost mossy, seeping into the cracks like the gate. Anyone else would assume they were just statues, that Karl had a master-craftmanship, but Tommy knew better. He had the Book of Dragons, he had a teacher who was full of wisdom older than the ancients. He had a keen eye.

“Wait a minute,” he muttered and turned towards Karl, “Those are Sentinels! Like, the Sentinels that specifically only guard Vanahiem? The—”

“Shhh, stay very quiet,” Karl whispered and turned to face all of them with his finger to his lips. Tommy blushed a bit, slightly embarrassed that he had let his words get him carried away, and ultimately told to shut up.

Quackity and his Sandbuster moved towards the front next to Karl and looked up. Karl took one small step forward towards the gate, and then the statues began to tremble. And crack. And move. Tommy knew what they were, but he was still surprised when the dragons began to move, their limbs cracking and becoming alive once again. Their eyes snapped open, revealing grey ones and not changing their ability to see even when they were open. Tommy gulped and stepped back close to Wilbur. Even if they couldn’t see, Sentinels were terrifying up close. One false move and you’re gone.

The four dragons spread their wings and hovered into the air above them, snarling and sniffing at the new people on the island. Karl moved quietly and slowly, taking his hand to his belt and extracting a small wooden pan-flute from it. He held it in both hands and pressed it to his mouth softly.

The tune that escaped the wooden instrument was melodic. Karl’s lips fluttered from hole to hole with grace, a delicate sound escaping from each one. The Sentinels heads turned towards the sound, almost like sleeping soldiers, and their roars grew quieter, less angry. Karl played for a few minutes; a soft lullaby so peaceful it nearly drew Tommy to sleep. When he was done, the Sentinels looked down on him, although they could not see, and growled softly. Quackity’s Sandbuster stepped forward and let out a bright, crackling blaze into the sky near the Sentinel dragons, which alarmed Tommy before realising it wasn’t aiming for the dragons, only the sky around them.

The Sentinels growled and faced the group of people before them, sniffing and swooping in the air around them. Tommy felt like he was being judged even without being seen. Finally, the stone dragons set back down on their posts, still facing down at the group but bowing their heads and spreading their wings. The great gates made a shrill creaking sound as they methodically opened and turned towards the acres behind them. Karl turned towards them and tilted his head towards it, smiling wide. They pressed on through the gates, and Tommy looked up as he walked to see the great stone dragons returning to a rigid and statue-like position like they had before. When they were past the gate, Tommy turned to Karl with a dazzled expression.

“Those were Sentinels? Like, Sentinels that are really harsh and impossible to train? How the fuck did you just do that?” he asked loudly and Karl chuckled.

“Years of practice, my dear Tommy. Like you said, Sentinels are rare and not often found outside one place, and they are impossible to train. But, we see it here that no dragon is impossible to train—or at least to tame.”

“But…how?”

“Like I said; practice. We found those Sentinels as eggs, washed up far away from any retirement island for dragons. We took them in, raised them, and eventually trained them enough that they would be able to guard and protect our home if things got too dicey. That tune is built into them to know that whoever plays it is a friend, and the dragon fire is another one. Won’t get past them without both.”

“So…you have pretty good defences?” Tommy asked and Karl grinned.

“The best.”

Tommy only realised the beauty of his surroundings; a large sheltering mountainside on the left side of them and encircling the rest of the area after the gate—apart from a small alley towards the back middle of the mountain, which stretched towards the sea— and the place Karl and Quackity and anyone else that was here had tried so hard to protect, taller than a watchtower at L’Manberg and blocking any other land or sea behind them; blossoming and blooming fruit trees that had too many leaves but wouldn’t drop a single one of them; scattered dragon scales in places Tommy managed to catch and made him smile. This was a true home to dragons, it seemed.

They began to walk over a rising green hill, noise once further away getting louder and the sun getting higher and higher in sight as they progressed and Tommy shielded his eyes as the rays caught in his vision. The hill got stepper and Tommy found himself running to see what was behind it, what secrets Karl was keeping soon to be ones he knew as well. The sight behind the hill took his breath away. And in a good way.

A large circular crater was open in the middle of the land, and when he said crater Tommy meant a crater; not one like at L’Manberg which was a few feet tall but one that probably crept down to below sea level under the island like a ravine and one that was longer than more than one hundred men standing together in a line. The walls of the ravine seemed to be coated in crystal for they shined and reflected off of the sun in a beautiful way and mossy vines clambered down it all the way that Tommy could see. Gaping mouths spurted water from every side, shimmering waterfalls descending as far as the eye could see and gushing thickly from the sides of the cliffs. But what stood out more than stone walls or moss was what was flying in and out of the ravine.

Dragons.

Dragons of every colour, dragons of every height, dragons of every size, species and wingspan. Dragons. They flew in and out of the ravine, resting on cliff sides and feeding from large pink plants that climbed up the side of the crater walls. They soared through the sky and pranced across the grass, perched on large wooden towers with many ledges and looked to be specifically designed to be perched on, nestled into small cracks and caves in the mountainside. They were caves everywhere, ones that looked man-made but still managed to appeal to the dragons. There were dragons everywhere, ones that looked free and wild and roaming, but still managed to look scratched and scarred and wronged. Tommy hoped that was just from the Trapper ships.

Four stone bridges in every direction—north, east, south, west—hung sturdily over the ravine, seeming to be defying gravity itself but never quaking, never seeming to look near falling. Long creeping vines fell from the sides, looming over the fall and dangling in the wind. Small chiselled statues of flames stood on the arches, coated in a chalky and crumbling paint. Though it was what hung in the centre of the ravine that caught Tommy’s attention. A house.

It sat, almost floating in the air above the centre of the gaping hole, connected by all four bridges and seemingly normal—if you didn’t look down. It was two stories tall and structured from slashed, reddish stone and tall windows sat on each level, bushes hanging outside of them. It seemed strange to see it suddenly hanging in the air, held up by only four bridges and even they were only held to the edges of the ravine. Several clumps of land—almost small cliffsides—were attached to the top of the house, spreading throughout the sky and sat on by different dragons.

Far off into the distance, hidden behinds hills and perches and floating houses was a small village-like place, with about six wooden huts tucked neatly together and convened next to a glistening waterfall falling from the mountainside. A thin river ran from where the water fell to all around the small village, which was constantly being drank from by different dragons as they rose and others took their place. Continuous clumps of pine trees spread throughout the whole island, masking the things that lived there.

It all made Tommy stagger back in awe, his heart thump madly like they were attached to wings and his pupils expand in joy of this creation. It felt like a real home. Tommy felt a nudge on his shoulder and was pulled out of his trance to turn to Karl, who was grinning at him.

“So; you like it then?” he asked and Tommy smiled.

“Fuck yeah. This is the best place I have ever seen—even though I haven’t seen a lot of places. But Thor; it’s absolutely incredible.”

He looked back at the rest of his crew, who looked equally as amazed and thought he saw Quackity smile slightly, but when he looked back it was only a sour grimace. Tubbo met his eyes, his mouth hanging open and exchanged a toothy grin, folding his arms and nodding approvingly.

“Okay; I guess this is pretty sick,” he said and Ranboo nodded, more colour and peace in his eyes than there had ever been in his entire life. Niki stared at the flourishing fruit trees and tumbling streams of water; awe painted in her face like an elegant canvas. Wilbur looked more shocked than awed, like he never expected there to be something so beautiful in a world so cruel. Tommy felt like that as well, only he had seen the beauty long before they had.

“It gets even sicker,” Karl said and nodded his head towards the house, “Follow me this way; I’ll tell you more about it.”

He started heading down the hill and they eagerly followed, interested in the landscape shaped before them. Quackity climbed into his Sandbuster and followed on its back, his sword still gripped tightly in his hand.

“We built half of this stuff from the ground up; the bridges, Community House, perches, caves in the fields, nesting areas, the huts. Most of it, really, apart from the ravine. We scouted out many islands before this one to find the best possible place to live. Didn’t want anywhere to close to L’Manberg, or anywhere that wasn’t easily concealed and easy to find. This one stuck out as being the best, so we made it our home. We call it the SMP Islands, since the land behind the mountain is actually split into a few different landmasses we use as watchtowers and such—y’know, with more Sentinels. I don’t know where the name comes from, but I think George once told me it stood for ‘Shores Made Peacefully’ though Quackity once said it meant ‘Suck My Penis’.”

“Karl!” Quackity hissed and Karl giggled.

“What? Not even allowed to mention your past jokes when you’re mad? Ignore him; he’s just not very trusting. Believe me, it took some time before I was properly accepted in the group, at least by his terms. But now, we’re the bets of friends, even closer. Anyway, we started building things for ourselves and our dragons, but after numerous flights to scout out the area for anyone looking for us, we saw a LOT of trapper ships, so we decided we’d do what no one else would and actually save the dragons on them. They were hurt, scarred and distrusting, but after a lot of care and healing, they eventually realised we only cared for their best interests. They stayed here, because here was safe, and so everytime we recue a horde of dragons, they usually choose to stay here, especially if they were injured. They’re safe here, will always be safe here, and this is one of the only islands that offers sanctuary for them. For anyone, really, who choses what’s right over what’s easy. Because that’s what being a Dragon Rider is. Sacrificing everything to do what is best for more than just yourself.”

Tommy listened to his words carefully, understanding everything Karl said ad even understanding it. He knew what it felt like to have the whole world against him, to find the difficulty in doing the right thing because it meant self-sacrifice, and that was a concept he had only began to understand. Tommy became so wrapped up in his intrusive thinking that he didn’t realise they were approaching the ravine. The bridge. The floating house.

His feet clamped to the floor as they reached the cliffside, unable to control his eyes as they stared down, down, down the never-ending chasm. His hand twitched and his gut grumbled. Mellohi placed his head next to Tommy and growled protectively, and Tommy scratched his chin without really thinking, only staring down at the ravine. Ranboo did the same.

It wasn’t the height that scared him, but the fall. Good Thor, he had ridden a dragon through the clouds metres above the land, he had spun and soared and been lifted for hours. He didn’t have a fear of heights. But it was what he imagined would happen if he fell into the ravine. If Mellohi was too slow to catch him, or if other things got in the way of his wings, or if the ground crumbled beneath them and they all went sprawling. These men had lived with dragons for eight years; had flown on their backs every day and never had any fear of falling. It was no wonder they built their base over a ravine. But Tommy hadn’t had that experience.

It was the opposite for Ranboo. Everything about what lay beneath his feet petrified him. The height. The fall. The gaping hole. Everything that led to his death. He had always been one to be cautious about what may take him to the afterlife. Everything about heights scared him thoroughly; it wasn’t natural for your feet to be away from land, and that was the only place Ranboo wanted them. He had no idea how Tommy could stomach riding his dragon all the time without feeling panicked or sick. He didn’t think he could do it, at least with his eyes open. But Ranboo hadn’t had that experience.

Karl placed his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and smiled encouragingly.

“It’s okay; I promise you’ll be safe. These bridges have been around for years and have yet to fall—even when being crashed into by dragons. And you have your dragon; you’re bound to fall with him by you. The others’ll probably be in the Community House anyway. Oh, that’s just what we call the house,” Karl said and started walking along the stone bridge, not carefully but not quickly either. Tommy took a deep breath and stepped one foot onto the bridge. Nothing happened. He kept his hand on Mellohi as he walked, careful not to look down in order to provoke his fear. He hoped the others were fine.

The closer he got to the house, the more he seemed to realise how big it was. The two floors seemed large enough to fit multiple dragons, and the opened oak doors were larger than he was. It was Tommy finally got inside the house that he realised someone was inside.

The inside of the Community House was covered in windows and shelves stocked with every book, scale and plant that Tommy had seen, with more he hadn’t. All four entrances from the bridges were open, the sun shining through and noise from the ravine entering, with a small staircase heading up to the second floor. A large table sat in the middle of the room, and a person stood by it, drawing something on a piece of paper.

Karl approached them, tapping them on the shoulder and the person turned, smiling back at Karl. They were a tall man, roughly around the same age as Karl but with a more fiery look to him that the humble Karl. He had scruffy black hair that covered a thin white bandana wrapped around his forehead, and his eyes were a burning orange. He wore a suit that was reminiscent of Karl and Quackity’s, but only because it donned dragon scales. It had red and orange scales around the chest and boots—his trousers more maroon—and his shoulder pads were pointed and streaked with black scales. His belt held a sword and a helmet half red, black with long horns hanging on the top of it, and just above the belt was a long line of black scales wrapped around his back and stomach. His hands wore pointed gloves that looked like claws and the under his forearms were yellow, but the top also had the same spikes Karl’s had, only there were three on each arm and pointed like daggers. His boots were knee high and were also equipped with spikes, diamond shapes of scales resting on the front of his knees as protection and a spike on his heel.

The man spoke to Karl for a second before his eyes turned to the group and they went wide, his mouth hanging open and eyes darting to everyone. His hand moved to his sword.

“What…the fuck?” he questioned and looked at them carefully, “Wait; WHAT THE FUCK! Why the Niflheim are there five people we don’t know and a Tripe Stryke? In front of us?” his eyes narrowed as he looked back at Wilbur, then Niki, “Or should I make that three people I don’t know. Wilbur and Niki. Been a long time since I saw you two.”

“Equally as long, Sapnap,” Wilbur said and folded his arms, “Though if I’m completely honest, I forgot about you.”

The man Tommy assumed was Sapnap chuckled dryly, still hovering over his sword.

“Classic Wilbur. Well, at least this shows people don’t change over there. Or have you, since you’re standing on our island? Most likely looking for our protection. Of course you haven’t changed.”

“Sapnap, we have no time for this,” Quackity snapped, stepping forward and scowling at them. His dragon was closely by his side, “We need to gather the other two and have a little talk. The Blade might be on his way. So we need to hurry the fuck up and prepare.”

Sapnap’s face turned to shock as Quackity spoke, his eyes raising and mouth opening wide. His eyes rolled back and he sighed angrily, his hand clenching his sword in more of a way than was annoyed than ready to use it to kill, “Well shit. Guess we knew this was comin’ eventually; couldn’t hide forever. I’ll go and get the others.”

He turned towards the south bridge and started to move, “I’ll be quick,” he shouted and ran along the bridge, putting his fingers in his mouth and whistling. After a few seconds, a large blazing red Monstrous Nightmare with black accents flew down from a cliffside towards Sapnap, looking at him from a side eye and flying slowly. Suddenly, Sapnap leapt up onto the barriers of the bridge, still running, and just before it was near to end he leapt off of the barriers. Tommy’s heart pulsated for a moment, but then he saw the man had landed on the Monstrous Nightmare’s back and took off towards the small village dwelling. Karl groaned and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yep, that’s Sapnap; always one for the dramatics,” he sighed and smiled, “But he means well, I suppose.”

“Enough of that shit,” Quackity snapped and pushed past them, nearing the middle table and wiping Sapnap’s papers to the edge, though he did seem careful not to tear them. He placed his helmet on the table and grabbed a spare piece of paper, scribbling something angrily on it. Ranboo also stepped up, though more cautious, and took a piece of paper, writing something on it but not letting anyone see. Tommy didn’t know why when he could just use Ender, but maybe it wasn’t writing.

“So, um, how many different species do you have here?” Tommy asked Karl and the man grinned.

“Probably nearly all of them. Y’know, except a Bewilderbeast or Red Death or Night Fury. Yeah, we’ve had a tough time finding any Fury dragons at all, par one, but that wasn’t even us. But, we do have some other cool ones, like Changewings, Death Songs, Razorwhips, Whispering Deaths, Timberjacks, a few Stormcutters. All totally trainable, at least if they’re here. Most Trapper ships try to go for the most valuable dragons they can sell, or ones they can get the best hides from. I’m ashamed to say there were a few cases where some dragons on some ships were unsavable—”

A sharp splitting sound cracked as Quackity smashed a dagger into the wooden table angrily, though he didn’t look back at them. It made everyone jump, and Ranboo’s paper was crumpled in his hand.

“I notice you don’t have a dragon with you,” Tommy questioned and Karl laughed once, taking one step towards the Sandbuster and scratching his chin. The dragon growled appreciatively.

“No, I do have one. He’s probably grazing somewhere else right now. Besides, he probably couldn’t fit in here if he tried,” Karl said and Tommy tilted his head.

“Hmm?”

“I just mean he’s a bit big.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Kinoko is a Crimson Goregutter,” Quackity interrupted, still facing towards the table, “They’re renown for their size, and they definitely couldn’t fit in here if they tried. Kinoko can’t seem to fit anywhere, really.”

Karl scowled at Quackity and stuck his tongue out at him in annoyance. Quackity turned just as Karl stopped and gave him a small frown.

“Didn’t think you should keep leading him all, t’was all.”

“I wasn’t leading him on!”

“Well, you certainly weren’t telling the boy what dragon you had! Doesn’t take much to just say it.”

“Didn’t think I had to.”

“Please.”

There was a sudden loud roar in the distance, and all their heads turned towards the south. There were three moving figures in the distance, all in one line. In the sky. Coming towards them. Three dragons. Tommy made out one of them to be Sapnap and his Monstrous Nightmare, and because he was the only one that wasn’t wearing a helmet.

“Well, here comes the dream team,” Quackity scoffed, and Tommy only gave him a slight look over his shoulder. But really, he was watching the approaching dragons. The closer they got, the more he could make out what they were.

One of the dragons was a Deadly Nadder, Tommy could see. It had bright blue scales with a few white spots and fazed red wings with a few small holes near each tip and blue streaks running along the wing membrane. It’s spiked tail had thick red and blue spiky patterns on it and the spikes stuck out plain white. It had a peach underbelly and purple spotted scales around its face, eyes mahogany brown and horns the same colour. The rider on its back was wearing a suit made up of the same colours and scales, the horns on their head shorter than the ones the Nadder had.

The other dragon, though it took Tommy by surprise, was a Light Fury. The sheer image of the dragon made his mouth hang open in awe. He didn’t think there were that many of them left—maybe even none at all, like the Night Furies. The Fury was a pale, icy white with large green eyes and a long, dented pink scar ran along the side of its body, around its shoulder wing joint, like the scar Mellohi had on his legs but longer. The rider wore a white suit that looked like marble but ultimately only dragon scales, black straps wrapped around their waist, boots and shoulders. A small sail went from their head to their back, trailing across the back of their boots and forearms. Their helmet had a point near the back—like a head spike—and a small green Strike Class symbol was stamped into their shoulder pads.

Tommy watched as they approached, as their heads turned to face him and their dragons landed on the bridge. He moved back into the Community House, standing near the table with Mellohi by his side. The Triple Stryke watched the new arrivals hesitantly, staring at the masked men and the dragons. Tubbo and Ranboo stuck to Tommy’s side, Ranboo choosing the safety of under Mellohi’s wings than out in the open. Wilbur gave Tommy a small look, as if asking him what they were to do next. Tommy shook his head and looked back at the new arrivals, who were making their way into the house with Quackity and Karl. The Sandbuster greeted the three other dragons like old friends, touching heads and growling in agreement.

The rider in Light Fury armour walked slowly towards the central table, their head looking in Tommy’s direction and up at Mellohi, their head tilted. The other four riders stood at one end of the square table, the one in Nadder armour removing their helmet. A man with short, fluffy brown hair was under the mask. Under his helmet he wore something like glasses, only the temples were thick and white, the lens solid black. He placed the goggles on his hair, revealing umber brown eyes. He frowned at Tommy, then scowled at Wilbur. It looked like everyone knew the infamous heir.

The rider in Light Fury armour continued to walk towards the five of them, never moving their head from Tommy’s direction. Tommy had a sudden feeling that they were the leader around here. They were a few feet away from Tommy when Mellohi growled loudly, causing the rider to stop in their tracks. They looked up at the Triple Stryke for a moment before looking back at Tommy. His Light Fury stuck close to his side, looking curiously at Mellohi. Their hands went to their helmet and pulled it off, revealing yet another man. He had dirty-blonde hair that stuck out in several directions and looked as though it hadn’t been cut in a while (though that was like most of them). His eyes were a bright green and flickered across the rest of the group, only slightly raising at sight of Wilbur but then remaining blank again. He seemed curious. They stood silently for a moment before the man actually spoke.

“So, you’re the newly-escaped L’Manbergians that have been causing so much trouble?” he questioned, almost silkily, his eyes narrowed on Tommy.

“Depends what your definition of trouble is,” Tommy replied and the man chuckled.

“Indeed. I have no trouble in helping fellow riders out—especially ones like yourself. I just need to have clarification that you aren’t going to be against us. If there is a fight.”

“There will be a fight. If he comes.”

“Then will you be on our side?” the man asked, eyeing all of them. Tommy pondered his words. He had only just met this man. He nothing about him. Yet, his presence was curious, and the place he had built was one Tommy had only ever envisioned in his dreams. But did that make the man good?

“We will,” he said and the man raised his eyebrow.

“All of you?” he asked, his gaze shifting to Wilbur, who was now staring at his feet.

“We will,” Tommy repeated, staring straight into the man’s eyes with a heated passion. The man stared back, almost challenging, then smiled and held out his hand.

“My name is Dream,” he said, “Pleasure to have you on our side. To have you understand what is actually right, unlike those simpletons back on L’Manberg." Tommy looked at his hand and then took it, shaking it firmly with a shrewd grin on his face.

“Tommy. Nice to finally have someone on equal ground. People who understand.”

Dream smiled and took back his hand, putting both of them behind his back graciously.

“So, Tommy,” he started, moving back around the table next to his comrades, “Why don’t you divulge us with what has happened since we’ve been away. At least, the important parts.”

--------------------------------------------

So Tommy told them. He told them everything that had happened from the first time he had seen a dragon to the last time he had been atop ones back. The five riders listened carefully, not ever seeming bored or careless, which Tommy understood. If their home were close to being a war zone, they would want to know everything that made it like that. Dream stood poised, his arms behind his back and his posture straight, like he was the most knowledgeable person in the Archipelago. Mellohi also stood attentively to Tommy’s side, either oblivious or uncaring towards the other rider’s dragons that were playing outside. Except Dream’s Light Fury. She lay next to him by the table, staring curiously at Mellohi, who was doing his best not to look at her.

When Tommy was done talking, he took in a gasp of air and looked back at the riders. They all stood, looking at Dream as if he would disperse the answers they needed. Dream stood with his chin in his hands, stroking it thoughtfully. After a few minutes of silence, he nodded and leant over the table, taking the paper Quackity had been drawing on and doing it himself. Tommy realised Quackity had drawn a map of the island.

“What’re you doing Dream?” George—the man in the Nadder armour—asked, taking a yawn right after he had spoken. Tommy noticed that the man yawned a lot, either out of boredom or lack of sleep. Dream ignored him for a moment before taking the paper, placing it against a wooden pillar and throwing a knife into the top if it, holding the paper against the wood. He moved over to it and pointed around it. Tommy saw it was marked with scribbled lettering, though he couldn’t make out what it was.

“This island in itself it quite small. We could see an armada of ships approaching from miles. They couldn’t do shit to sneak up on us, especially if we have the high ground. The Sentinels will hear their ships and voices and either fly to us or attack them personally. Half the island over here—” he circled the right side of the map, “—is cloaked with Changewing shedding, meaning they won’t be able to see if. If it still works. L’Manberg is located south of the top of the island, meaning they’ll head in that direction. They’ll see this side of the beach, but Techno will want to try and go near the behind, meaning that they will dock right here!” Dream circled the west side of the map, near a closing of trees and behind the side of the mountain next to the gate.

“You got all that from one map?” Tubbo asked, the first thing he had said to them and ultimately the last when Sapnap frowned at him.

“Man’s got a knack for directions. Probably all that time spent running amok round L’Manberg, aye Dream? Mr Manhunt here spent most of his time getting chased; knew west to east without even a compass after the twentieth time.”

“The thing is, Tubbo, that Technoblade had one strategy during battle. We all knew that, at least when he still spoke to us. Do as much damage as possible, and take any risks to make sure he wins. At the end of the day, all he wants is our heads on spikes, and our dragons on his wall,” Dream explained and his eyes suddenly lit up, “Speaking of which…”

“What?” Tommy asked.

“How are we gonna go into a battle of dragons if four of us don’t even have dragons? That’s like, three fifths of our team on the ground,” he said and smiled, turning to Tubbo, Ranboo, Wilbur and Niki, “On this island, there are dragons everywhere you look. They have all been rescued by us, meaning they have all been trained by us and are docile, if treated nicely.”

“Oh Thor; what are you suggesting, Dream?” Wilbur groaned and scratched his neck.

“I’m suggesting that you four go out and find dragons; your dragons, to be exact. Find one that is specific to you and calls out to you—and pray to Thor they think the same about you. While these dragons are trainable, they are vulnerable around humans other than us, and might attack if they feel threatened.”

“Can’t we just have one of your fancy suits and hope for the best?”

Dream chuckled and examined his suits.

“Not ours, of course, but I’m sure once you get a dragon you will get one. They’re fireproof, weapon proof, and have great durability. Dragon scales, would you believe. But, time is counting down, and the longer we spend chatting, the quicker troops are being prepared. So go. Go!”

The group of four looked at each other anxiously before sighing and starting to walk away across one of the bridges. Tommy went to follow before being stopped by Dream.

“Not you, Tommy. You have a dragon, do you not? I’m sure they will be fine, and speaking of which, I would prefer it if you all went separate oaths, for now. Makes the experience easier.”

“Oh, no, no way. I am not leaving Ranboo by himself!” Tubbo argued, turning back to face Dream, “Not on an island swarming with dangerous dragons!”

“Trust me, they are not—”

“I don’t trust you, Dream, and I don’t trust those dragons either. Ranboo’ll get ripped apart by those things if I’m not with him, and I certainly am not going to let my best friend get tore apart!”

Dream stood quietly looking down at Tubbo, then crouched down so they were face-to-face.

“Believe it as you may, Tubbo, but those dragons are as dangerous as a mouse compared to Technoblade. He will agonizingly torture Ranboo, while the dragons will maybe get him a scratch or two. So, if you want your friend to be killed, you can stay here wasting time and argue, or you can go along by yourself and actually let him experience some time alone without a nanny up his ass. Does that sound fair?”

Tommy’s eyes widened. No one had ever spoken to Tubbo like that, at least not face-to-face. Though he was small, he was a harsh fighter, and anyone that treated him like shit got it. Tommy saw the boy’s eye twitch and fists clench for a minute before backing away and scowling.

“Fine. But if he dies, it's on your hands."

“Fine with me,” Dream said coolly and Tubbo growled, storming away across the bridge without another glance at any of them. Ranboo stared anxiously at him and then turned to Tommy with panic written on his face.

“You’ll. Be. Fine. Don’t Worry. Just. Stay. Calm. And. Strong. Like. Always.” Tommy said in Ender towards Ranboo, “Come. Back. Here. After. You’ve. Found. A. Dragon.”

Ranboo nodded and took a deep breath, turning to face the now-empty bridge and walking away slowly, not looking anywhere but forwards, his hand twitching next to his side. Tommy took a deep sigh and turned back to face Dream, then reached into his satchel and held out a large sack of scales. Mellohi’s scales.

“So, speaking of armour,” he said and passed Dream the bag, “Would this be enough for mine?”

Chapter Text

Schlatt put the spoon to his mouth, cold vegetable soup passing through his lips. It tasted like shit, but it was all he had without spending ay money for the week, so he would just have to suck it up. Tubbo’s note lay inches away from him on the table, words staring up at the ceiling. His eyes passed onto it a few times, but he didn’t pick it up again.

It had been quiet in his house for a while.

When the two boys had lived with him, everyday had been loud and full of emotion—nothing ever in its right place for long, but Schlatt enjoyed it. He had lived by himself for so long, that when Puffy had came to him that night he was glad he could have some company. And the two boys had been perfect. He was all they had ever known, so they were never constantly trying to get away from him like everyone else. Schlatt found he could be more warming when they were babes, for they understand and remembered nothing he said, but when their large blue looked up at him he had a feeling they did understand him.

He remembered when the boys had said their first words—and funnily enough it had been on the same day, roughly when they were around one year old. They were playing just outside of the armoury, around the back near Schlatt’s house. Tommy and Tubbo were always together, probably by the fact that they were each other’s best friend, but it made it easier for Schlatt to keep an eye on them. He was taking his lunch break near them on the grass, an awful salmon sandwich in his hand. It seemed that throughout most of his life Schlatt had had to eat disgusting food.

He was just about to eat it when Tommy stumbled over to him, dirt smudged on his nose and hair, but his eyes wide and daring. The two of them learned to walk less than two weeks ago, but Tommy was definitely better at it than Tubbo. With the both of them, it seemed that if one of them was good at something, the other was poor at it, but it only encouraged the other to work harder for it. The small infant looked at Schlatt’s lunch with curious eyes and pointed at it.

“Fish!” he cried, smiling at the sandwich and moving up and down excitedly, though it was just a few pieces of bread (the end pieces specifically), mayo and salmon. Schlatt’s mouth opened and turned into a grin.

“Fish?” he questioned with a grin, “Did you just say fish?”

“FISH!” Tommy cried, giggling and stumbling around. Schlatt laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Ha, good job Tommo! How ‘bout you Tubs? Got anything to say?” he asked the small brunette, who was sitting quietly with his legs crossed, watching the scene unfold. His mouth remained shut, but that was alright. One was good enough.

Tubbo did speak that day, but it wasn’t until later in the evening. There was a dragon attack in the village, and Schlatt had made a beeline for a small cave at the beach where women and children went to be safe. They gave him annoyed looks as he sat down on a smooth rock, both Tommy and Tubbo on his knees, maybe because he wasn’t helping fight the beasts or because he was simply Schlatt, and no one particularly cared for him too much.

Even though they were safe in the cave, Schlatt hadn’t saved the boys from witnessing raging fires and screaming people, rampaging beasts and a few dead bodies. Tubbo had swivelled around to face Schlatt when they were in the cave, when the noise from the village was still present and loud. His face was scared and eyes narrowed like he was tired.

“Boom,” Tubbo had whispered, and this time Schlatt wasn’t so excited about it.

-----------------------------------------

There was a loud banging on the wooden door, and Schlatt’s spoon hovered in the air as he turned his head to face the door. He frowned and placed the spoon down, pushing away the bowl and standing up from the table, walking towards the door. He never had guests, or even knockers at his door. The last time that had happened was seventeen years ago.

Schlatt opened the door slowly, and his eyes narrowed when Philza stood behind it. He didn’t expect him to be calling for him, much less have the guts to knock himself. Besides his deceased father, Philza was the last person Schlatt expected to be at his door. And the last person he wanted there.

“Schlatt,” Phil said, making an awkward smile that housed no joy, “It’s been a while.”

“Not long enough,” Schlatt mumbled, “I don’t think I’m in Niflheim yet. That was the last place I wanted to see you.”

It was only then Schlatt realised how many soldiers were stood behind Phil, shields up and swords pointed, faces masked by helmets. Phil definitely wasn’t here for a catch up, it seemed. It also seemed he couldn’t close his door and walk away, or that he would be able to get away on a high note. Philza was here for something, and that something probably involved Schlatt far away from his house. Schlatt stepped out of his house, turning to close to door and scowling.

“I’m afraid circumstances far out of my control unfortunately bring me here,” Phil said through gritted teeth, trying his best not to let Schlatt irritate him. Schlatt wouldn’t have that.

“Let me guess; the people told you they hated me, so you came to tell me that too?” Schlatt snapped and Phil’s eye twitched, but other than that he ignored him, staring to circle the man like a vulture.

“I am aware—and I’m sure you are too—that yesterday five people left this island illegally. Two of which happen to be those orphans you took in—”

“—not orphans if they had me—”

“—and raised like your own. Pity; I hoped no children would have to put up with you for half their life. Though yours left early, didn’t they,” Phil snided back, but unlike himself Schlatt didn’t show his emotions through his face.

“But unfortunately enough for your own children, they could never get away from you, no matter how hard they tried or wanted to. And they’re older than mine,” Schlatt retorted and looks were shared between the soldiers. Nobody spoke to the Chief like that, and the Chief certainly didn’t take it like he did now. But none of them understood their remarks. Not the reason for the two of them to do it.

“As much fun as I’m having here,” Phil snapped, “I have more pressing matters I need to talk to you about—”

“—more pressing orders your son told you to do—”

“—Do you know where the boys and company have gone?” Phil asked, “Or anything about their motives? Their reasons for treason?”

“No,” Schlatt lied, quickly to speak so they wouldn’t think he was lying, “I know nothing; never did. They left me as they left everyone else. In the dark.”

“Seems strange, considering you brought them up. Could’ve been like family, but you never were one for that, and this proves it—”

“—unlike you, Phil, I only stick with people I care for. I don’t stick with people who don’t give a shit about myself, and would rather play politics than actually think about their impact on others.”

They stood in silence, anger in the air, past feuds spinning around them. Schlatt’s eyes never left Philza’s, never backed away from a challenge. Philza looked just about fed up with Schlatt, his hand twitching by his side.

“As much as you piss me off Schlatt, I’m ready to make a deal with you, because every single body is valuable in a war. Make a good decision for once in your fucking life and stand with us. Fight on our side in this fight, tell us what you know about these boys and maybe, just maybe, make your people proud. Or you can rot behind cell walls, the people you tried so hard to protect dead because of you, because of your never-changing attitude and actions. A disgrace to everyone, though that one isn’t new, is it?” Phil narrowed his eyes, “Your country, or your sons?”

The impact of those words hit Schlatt square on, nearly knocking him over. His sons. His boys. The only two people he had ever let into his life, the ones he had shown care and love and family. The only person they had ever had, and even though they had left him, they still cared. In his armoury, a note on his table, a wave in the street. He had cared for them, and they cared for him. And he would be damned if he ever let his sons die against a ruthless piece of shit like Philza. He would be damned if he ever went against them. He looked Phil dead in the eyes and smirked wickedly.

“Yeah; they’re my sons. And I couldn’t ask for any better. I never could. And I will never regret my decision of taking them in, letting them into my life. Should I stand with a country that has never stood with me? Fuck your country, and fuck you too.”

Schlatt gathered spit in his mouth and spat at the ground, next to Philza’s feet. The man narrowed his eyes and grimaced. Schlatt grinned. Philza clicked his fingers and two soldiers walked forwards.

“Lock him away in the cells.”

Firm hands rushed forwards and gripped Schlatt’s shoulders and pushed him forwards roughly. But he had always been one to have the last word. He wrenched his head to face Phil and easily overpowered the soldiers, pulling away from them and stopping next to him.

“Our father would look at you in shame if he could see you—” Schlatt started but Phil interrupted, eye twitching and face getting more and more angry everytime Schlatt opened his mouth.

“MY father—” Phil roared, saliva flying through the air, “—is dead. And I do believe he gave the mantle of Chief to me before he died. And…even if it was offered to you, you rejected it. So you have no power over me. You have no connection to me. Not my blood. And that is all that matters.”
Phil began to walk away, but Schlatt grabbed his soldier and yanked him around to face him. Soldiers drew their swords out, but Schlatt ignored them, his anger past the point of stopping.

“If blood is all that matters, then you wouldn’t be trying to hunt down one of your sons! If blood is all that matters, then stab me and let mine fall to the ground. Then you’ll see what it looks like. As much as we both hate it, we were brothers, at least by our fathers wishes. And I care about family, so I won’t sit around and let you hurt mine.”

“Take him away,” Phil snapped, ignoring Schlatt and walking away, “Our work here is done. Make sure he’s locked up tightly, so he has no way of escaping. We have someone else to talk to.”

One of the men kicked Schlatt’s leg, making them buckle and he was shoved forwards into someone else’s grip and marched forwards. He wanted to scream at Philza even more, but he knew he was in the stage of anger when he would just ignore Schlatt. He turned his head and watched as Philza led his troop towards someone else’s house, smoothing back his hat and knocking on the door. Schlatt was dragged away just as the door opened, and he never saw the person behind it.

His brother may be a bastard, but he certainly was relentless.

______________________________________________________

Technoblade watched from a hilltop nearby as Philza quarrelled with his uncle. Well, was he really his uncle? The man had been adopted by his grandfather when the man was small, lived his early life with him, and then stepped away from everything the moment he died. The moment Philza held the reigns. Technoblade never knew him as his uncle, for he only ever heard his name on the streets, among the various insults surrounding him.

Nevertheless, Schlatt was still being dragged away regardless of his connections, and Philza was still on a march across the village.

Technoblade watched from a hilltop nearby as Philza knocked on the door of one Captain Puffy, a knife idly passing around his fingers in one hand like a fidget toy. Even though he was more than a few feet away, Techno could still hear what was being said as he watched it curiously, wondering what direction Philza would take this conversation.

The door opened and Puffy stood behind it, her stance more daring and stronger than any of the other women in the village. But that was probably because she was one of the only ones who had fought in a war before. Techno saw a few other heads pop out from behind her, but she swatted them away and closed the door slightly, though she still stood in it.

“Phil,” she said slowly, though she was unsure of his arrival.”

“Hello Puffy,” Phil said, calmer than he was before, “I’ve come with a proposition. Though, it most likely only has one answer.”

Technoblade snorted aloud, though he was too far for them to hear him. What a stupid ass comment.

“What would that be?” Puffy asked cautiously, her head swivelling around to look over her shoulder every few minutes.

“I’m sure by now you know of the five people that have left the island illegally? The ones we will soon be against?”

“The children,” Puffy said slowly, “The five children who did nothing but go against one rule and now are victims of war. The ones on dragons.”

“Where did you hear that?” Phil asked slowly, and Techno saw his face reddening.

“People talk.”

“People lie. Those ‘children’ are anything but, and they are traitors to us, the Archipelago and humankind. They are alike those that left around eight years ago. Unable to follow a single order.”

“And what have you come to me for, Phil? To rant?”

“You’re an experienced fighter, Puffy. You’ve fought many a battle. You’ve killed, as much as you’ve tried to hide it all these years with mothership, but the past, unfortunately, still happened.”

“You want me to kill children.”

“I want you to fight criminals. Either that or sit back while your children do it for you.”

Puffy’s eyes widened and her grip on the door grew tighter.

“No,” she gasped, “You wouldn’t.”

“I would, and I will. Even if you choose not to help us, Puffy, those orphans will. Because that is what they were made for. They have no one other than you, and no one other than you cares for them. They were made to be soldiers, and even if that means bodies on a war-field, they will have served their purpose. Their deaths will mean nothing but one step closer to victory—"

“No!” Puffy snapped, his grip growing ever tighter and her face contorting into rage, “I will not let you do that.”

“You have no choice.”

“But I do,” she said, moving her coat and revealing a large sword hanging from her belt. Philza’s eyes narrowed as she took it out and held it, hand shaking, “You come anywhere near my children, Phil, and I will kill everyone of your soldiers. And you. You said it yourself. I’ve killed people before.”

Techno sat up on the hill, his knife no longer moving. He didn’t think Puffy a fool, but he didn’t think her a liar either. If Philza kept pressing her, she would attack him. He had watched as a child when Puffy once fought in battle, her movements almost angelic and her strikes smooth. She was good.

“We outnumber you,” Phil said simply, “Just join our battle, and then you won’t have to do any of this. You might even get to see them fall limply in person.”

Puffy roared in rage, rushing forward and slashing the air with her sword and Phil moved, but not before her sword pierced into his arm. Phil cried out in pain and backed away as she continued madly. Soldiers rushed forward, shields blocking her sword as she swiped. Heads peeked behind the door of her house, mouths hanging open as they watched her. Techno grinned slyly, enjoying the scene unfold before him. It wasn’t often there was swordplay on the island.

Eventually, Puffy wore herself out and was restrained by several soldiers, her sword taken away and she was dragged to her knees, tears falling down her face but her face still contorted in anger. Philza clicked fingers and pointed to the house, one arm hanging limply with blood drip, drip, dripping from it like a tap.

“Go inside. Get any people you find in there and take them,” he said simply and soldiers rushed into the house, screaming coming from the inside. Puffy screamed in anger, thrashing around in her captors grip but not strong enough to break free of them. Soldiers came out with children writhing in their grip, screaming until told to shut up. Streams of tears fell from Puffy’s face, but there was nothing she could do.

When every child was out of the house and restrained on the streets, Phil smiled sadistically and sighed. He knelt down in front of Puffy and whispered something Technoblade couldn’t hear, but he guessed it was mocking at Puffy then spat in his face. Phil leapt back up, wiping his face in disgust and a soldier coming forward, an axe above Puffy’s neck.

“WAIT!” someone shouted, and a man ran out of the house, a black eye around his left eye. Technoblade recognized him as Foolish, Puffy’s biological son. He seemed pretty foolish to be running up to a horde of angry men, eventually restrained by two soldiers. Phil turned to him with a certain curiosity, and then frowned.

“Please; don’t hurt her,” Foolish gasped, writhing as the men held him, “Please! Just let the others go and do your stupid war somewhere else! You’re hurting more people than necessary!”

Phil walked towards him slowly, his cloak flowing in the heavy wind. It made him look like he had wings.

“Why?” he asked softly, and Foolish frowned.

“What—”

“Why should I let her go? Let any of them go? You’re mother rebelled against us, attacked us and belittled us. These children are good enough to be classed soldiers. In fact, you are too—”

“Then take me,” Foolish said quickly and Puffy’s eyes widened, shaking her head, “Take me as a soldier instead, make me fight in your stupid war. Just don’t hurt her. Or any of them. Please.”

Phil considered the man for a moment, his eyes never drifting from his and a long questioning frown on Phil’s face. After a minute, he turned away and back to Puffy and the children.

“Take that axe from her neck,” he commanded, and Puffy now was further away from death than she had been before. Foolish sighed in relief and glared at Phil from behind him. Puffy was dragged up to her feet and death-stared Phil with more anger than Technoblade had ever seen in one expression.

“But take her to the cells,” Phil said simply and turned away, looking at the children, “Not close too Schlatt, of course. And get these soldiers a weapon.”

Puffy screamed, thrashing around as the men marched her away the same way they had for Schlatt, ignoring her cries and keeping her in their grip. Techno lowered his head as she passed, her eyes on him but still screaming for her children. Something in Techno stirred, maybe guilt hiding away in his heart— something that hadn’t shown itself in years. He looked up at Foolish, who looked pained as his mother was dragged away, and his siblings were still forced to fight.

Technoblade stood, once again masking any emotions he might’ve had and making his way over to the scene.

___________________________________________________________

The new soldiers were mostly all tall and gangly—none of them looking as if they had ever had a decent meal in their lives. However, their hands were big enough to hold spears and their heads could bear a helmet, so they had little choice but to partake. And when Phil wanted every capable person, he meant it.

Technoblade walked back and forth in front of the new recruits, his face masked by the dragon skull he wore often, though his eyes still pierced into each of them. Their eyes were on the floor, not daring to look up at The Blade who they all secretly feared. Techno felt a slight pang of remorse for the children—if you could even call them that. But that went away when he remembered he needed to stop showing his emotions, and when he remembered he had become a soldier much younger than these had—and for him it felt even more unfair.

Even so, Technoblade pulled himself away from them and turned back at the docks, where there were more ships than he had seen in one spot—at least in L’Manberg. Sails painted with a large black crow holding a sword in its claws thrashed around in the wind. Hordes of soldiers wrapped in heavy iron-clad armour and shields stood in lines on ships, marching towards them or standing listening to orders of their superiors.

Civilians stood on the side of the village square before the ground to sand and beach. They looked nervous, holding their children in their arms with looks at the new soldiers. Puffy’s children weren’t the only ones that had been given weapons and shields. Some shot looks at Technoblade, ones of confusion or anger, as he was the only one around who had more power than any of them, the only one to blame at the moment. Philza was somewhere, probably shouting at someone or giving absurd orders in the heat of the moment. It had been a while since Techno had seen him become so irate, lose his temper and attitude. It didn’t make him look any younger.

Technoblade stared towards the horizon, where the sea met the sun and waves thrashed wildly, probably a few sea dragons swimming around in the tides. The sea seemed calm compared to what was coming to those riders. Technoblade almost felt sympathetic, but then he remembered that was another emotion he wasn’t supposed to use.

His eyes settled on the ocean, taking in a deep sigh as he thought about what he was getting in to once he passed those tides. Another island turned into a battlefield, more men turned into fighters painted with blood.

Chapter Text

The sun was not as high as it was earlier, but it was not yet time for a sunset. It glimmered on the wavy ocean, the water itself thrashing and riveting while the colours blended like a perfect canvas. It sat on the horizon, ever stretching past the sea.

Even though the others had taken their different paths on the island, Niki still ended up being drawn towards the ocean. She supposed it was only natural, with it being a place of calm for her. It was like a second home, every minute spent in its warm waters and cooling waves was a joy. If the land ended up being swallowed up by the water at that moment, Niki wouldn’t have minded at all.

She had left her boots by the grassy bank, letting her feet sink into the silky sand. Sometimes her feet crunched onto half burrowed-out shells, but she didn’t mind. Things like that and seaweed wrapping around her fingers when she swam were little inconveniences, but they were simple parts of nature that coexisted with her, so she couldn’t be that harsh on them.

It had been a long day, she’d admit. Spending hours in the clouds, meeting new people, running away from home. Not something Niki expected in her summer. But she would also admit it was the most excitement she had had in a long time. And she didn’t regret any of it.

Niki shoved her hands into her pockets and strolled against the seafront, watching as a hermit-crab scuttled across the sand in front of her. She stopped when she was close to a cove, white chalky rocks looming above her. Niki turned and faced the ocean, wind slashing at her eyes but she was used to it by now. It was a beautiful sight. Her feet edges closer to the water, small spits of water splashing against her feet. Niki smiled and rolled up her trouser bottoms, pulling them up to her knees and dipping her feet into the water.

It was cold. Almost freezing cold, making Niki nearly recoil until she stood her ground. It was only a bit of cold; she’d experienced that many times back at L’Manberg in early mornings, but this somehow seemed to be colder than it had ever been in L’Manberg.

“It’s just because we’re further north,” Niki said to herself through gritted teeth, taking another few steps through the water. The pebbles were hard and jagged on her feet, but it was an experience she had felt so many times she was used to it. Niki kept on walking, pebbles turning to soft sand and the water making its way further and further up her leg until it was so far it was surrounding her waist, an inch away from colliding with her shirt.

The water was still cold, but it was a cold that was nice and cooling rather than chilling. Niki sighed in relief and traced her hands through the water, rippling the currents. There was nothing more peaceful than the water. Nothing more familiar, at least to Niki. Nothing safer. Under the water, nothing could scar you or break you or scratch you. Nothing could set you on fire or come flying towards you. Time slows down, and so do people.

It was only then that Niki decided to look down at the water, look under the tides and see what was beneath it. There were two small, white eyes staring at Niki.
Niki yelped in surprise and tumbled back, her back landing into the water and sending cold shocks down her nerves. Her head went under from the force of her slipping and she closed her eyes, the rushing sound of water entering her ears. Niki swatted her hands at the water, opening her eyes and letting out a choked stream of bubbles as she saw the sight before her.

It was a dragon. That Niki knew. It had a thin long neck, its face also long with a circular snout and two small white eyes in pointed black sockets (almost like a pearl in a clam). Several twisted horns sat on its head, looking like branched-off pieces of coral and two of them sat directly above its eyes. But its wings, oh its wings! They spread out wide, almost intimidating apart from the dragons expression, which seemed anything but its scales were a beautiful, faded turquoise, darker, deeper shades mixed in on the top of its wings but swirling, white wavy patterns dashed on certain spots. Like a tiger made for the sea. Its underbelly was rough and chalky white like the looming rocks, long lines down it all the way like a clam. Three pointed fins stuck to its neck and four flippers were in place of legs, dancing softly under the water. Its tail was long and had a tail fin with the same patterns, also dancing under the water. Niki noticed there were a few small holes near the end of it, and that it was the same for its wings.

Niki gasped under the water, a long stream of bubbles coming from her mouth and choking up her air. The dragon mewed softly, eyes going wide and turning around, spinning under the water and going deeper in. It almost seemed to be dancing rather than swimming. Niki narrowed her eyes and held her breath, swimming up to the surface to get a gasp of air before going back down. The dragon was not far away, and though it seemed skittish it didn’t seem like it wanted to be away from Niki. It turned back to gaze at her, more curious than frightful. Niki swam gracefully, never losing balance or breath. She approached the beast, who in turn turned its head at her and eyes narrowed thoughtfully. It watched the way she swam and mewed curiously, spinning once and moving higher through the water.

It didn’t look dangerous. Niki had experienced a lot over the past 36 hours, but she had also learnt a lot about dragons. They weren’t as vicious as they seemed, and they didn’t go for the kill without reason. This dragon just looked wary of her, wondering what she was doing in its waters but also not wanting her to go. Not wanting to go for the kill at all. It’s tail flicked cautiously, moving the water and pushing Niki back slightly. She waved her hands to keep herself from spinning and the dragon tilted its head again, grumbling.

Niki locked eyes with it, watching it as it turned and flapped and studied her. She felt her breath running short, but she wasn’t about to go to the surface and made the creature flee again. Pushing through the water—time feeling slowed down—Niki swam slowly through the water, approaching the beast carefully. She stretched out her hand towards its muzzle, but it looked around anxiously, backing away slowly in the water and growling. Niki recoiled her hand back, every second feeling the effects of the water cutting away her supply of air. She closed her eyes—and if she could take a deep breath she would—and turned away, extending her right hand out in front of her. Her throat felt like it was getting tighter.

Then, there was contact against her hand. Niki opened her eyes and turned to face the dragon, who’s muzzle was against her hand, eyes also closed. Niki smiled, caressing her hand across it slightly and it’s eyes opened. The dragon mewed at her, mouth opening slightly. Then, it began to turn, to spin, to glide. Niki’s hand clamped around it’s muzzle in reflex and she began to spin with it, eyes wide (and mouth) and legs trailing behind her. The dragon spun again, Niki zooming past and landing on it’s neck. It roared loudly and started to head up towards the water at an agile pace. Niki closed her eyes and braced herself to meet the surface of the water.

As soon as they left the water, they were in the air. Niki opened her eyes to see them slowly jumping over the waves, mouth opening in surprise and delight, filling itself with air. Her hair and clothes stuck to her, but that was the last thought on her mind at that moment. She felt close to touching the sun. Then, they started to head towards the water, going down, down, down. Niki’s eyes raised and her hands gripped tighter to the dragon’s neck

“AHHHHHHH!” she cried, closing her eyes just before they hit the water, closing her mouth in order to avoid unwanted water taxiing in her mouth. She felt the currents rush past her face, almost slashing, but she opened her eyes and felt nothing. Niki looked down at the dragon, whom which she was sitting on by neck. It looked determined, almost gleeful, and eyes rolled back to look up at Niki like it knew she was regarding it. Niki smiled.

They went up again, out of the water, then down and up again. It was a constant cycle, almost like riding a horse through the mountains. After nearly the fifth time, Niki trailed her hands across to the dragon’s coral-like horns, patting them thoughtfully and when the dragon looked up at her, it seemed to nod at her boldly, so Niki gripped them like reigns, but also for support.

When she wanted to go somewhere else, she would turn them slightly, and the sea-dragon would follow her directions. They acted in sync, which Niki found strange for a creature she had only just encountered—be it the first dragon she had truly come across by herself. But there was a calm to the beast, one that resembled the allay of the ocean itself.

Finally–after what felt like hours but Niki knew was only minutes—the dragon moved away from the tides and back to the shore, as Niki knew as the floor turned to pebbles again. It popped its head out of the water, taking Niki with it and hung its head to the sandy shores. Niki dropped off its neck, legs shaking, and turned around to look at it.

It was a male, Niki now realised. Its eyes were too sharp, its wings jagged and fins pointed. She wasn’t a dragon expert, but she figured that she was right. The dragon mewed at her and lowered its head towards her. Niki held out her hand and he moved his muzzle towards it. Very gentle for a dragon with tears in its wings.

“You’re so pretty,” she whispered to him, rubbing her hands along his muzzle, then chuckled once, “Gods, they really expected us to come back with a dragon, didn’t they? Well, if I have to go back with one, I’d gladly have it be you, gladly have it been the most pleasant dragon. What do you think?”

The sea dragon growled softly, breathing out small streams of moisture from its nostrils and spraying Niki’s face gently. She laughed and pressed her head against its own, wet but that didn't matter to her.

“I guess that’s a yes then,” she smiled and thought for a moment, “I think I’ll call you Zuko. I’ve been told somewhere that it means glory, though I suppose it has lots of meanings. I like that one best. Cause by Thor, you are one glorious dragon.”

----------------------------------------

Wilbur still wasn’t any better with nature than he had been before. No change of scenery could change that. His feet continually wrapped around roots, his face smacked by near invisible branches, and he twitched at every dragon roar he heard. Which on an island full of dragons was constantly.

He wasn’t keen on Dream’s idea, and he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t know that it was what Tommy wanted to. For the rest of them to stop being useless and be a threat in the air like the rest of them. And it wasn’t the plot of the plan that bothered him, just the idea of it. Just go and find a dragon and become best friends! Yeah right. Wilbur knew it had taken Tommy months for him to be as close with Mellohi as he was now. It could even take years before one found you a suitable rider, at least that was what Wilbur thought. Alas, he still found himself walking through the dense forest of the island, despite his ideals.

A small rock caught under his foot (the weakest of things to topple him over) and Wilbur was sent sprawling across the ground. His face hit the damp soil and he grimaced, pressing himself up with his hands and spitting any residual dirt. Wilbur turned to look at the thing that had sent him flying and scowled at it. It was a small circular rock, no bigger than the palm of his hand and orange in colour. Wilbur stood up and kicked it aside, noticing how it seemed unscathed by his touch and barely moved at all. He knelt down and picked it up, examining it with arched eyes.

Upon holding, he now noticed that the rock was less of a rock and more of a gem, with small bubbles encased inside and the shine of the sun bouncing off of it.

“Amber,” Wilbur murmured, running his finger across it and shoving the ball into his pocket. The island may not have any buyers, but this stuff cost a fortune at markets, and was not that common to find unless in caves, entrapped bugs and filaments inside. Strange how it appeared above land…

Without warning, a large melodic roar sounded throughout the forest, snapping Wilbur’s head up and shaking the trees. Small birds flew out of them, away from the noise and then turned back around towards it. Wilbur narrowed his eyes, daring carefully behind trees. Somehow towards the noise. Surely his fight or flight should have kicked in by now, turning him back around to go and find a nice lap-sized dragon to play with. But it didn’t. Wilbur had never been much of a fighter, an explorer, once for dealing with danger. A coward, in another word. But at that moment, something about that call stuck out to him, either by the attraction or sound. So he did the only thing his body would let him and moved towards it.

There was a small clearing beyond the trees, surrounded in tall hills and littered with small bits of amber. Wilbur knelt behind a rock near it, eyes darting around to lock onto anything that moved. The sound was gone, but the sight before him made him surprised.

Sitting encased in the same amber were animals. Sheep, boards, yaks, birds. They cried aloud in their favoured tongues, unable to do anything but look around them. Their limbs sat trapped behind the orange surface, frozen and immovable. Wilbur narrowed his eyes and stood from his knees, only to crouch back down when a large shadow passed over him.

“Rah Rah Rah Rah, Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah.”/p>

Wilbur knelt as small as he could go and peered over the rock, the cry still ringing in his ears. It was melodic and beautiful to the ears, but it held a note that was almost deadly, threatening. Wilbur locked eyes onto the shadow that had been above him, as it now stood on bare land. The shadow was perched on a cliffside, not shadow at all but a large, hunched dragon.

Its wings were great and larger than the beast itself, wavy ends holding sharp claws and patterns painted on it that reminded Wilbur of the butterflies which had once grazed outside his house. The colours of the wings itself were that of a sunset, with dazzling drops of blue and white and yellow to add to the perfect canvas which was the dragon. Its body was a pale orange, thick slashing patterns of brown tracing down to its tail and which resembled that of a tiger and a bludgeoned tail. Its body was long and slender, small arm-like limbs hanging near where its wings began and legs dangling limply where its tail began (its legs pecan brown). Jagged spikes ran along its back, with a wavy spotted azure sail on its tail and its back. Its head was thin—a pointed spike for a nose—with a few spikes under its chin, three long patterns on its forehead and curved fins forming on the side of its head. Two long, bumpy crimson horns extended from the back of its head. Its eyes were sharp and yellow, constantly moving around tetchily. Its teeth gleamed. Wilbur gulped.

The dragon looked around—eyes narrowed and far too concentrated for a dragon. Wilbur crouched down as far as he could behind the rock, only his eyes and curly hair in view. The dragon, sniffed, than spread it wings wide and roared.

“Rah Rah Rah Rah, Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah!” it shrieked loudly, and Wilbur thought its call to be more of a tune than a bloodthirsty roar. But he wasn’t about to consider the ethics of a dragon roar when it was SUDDENLY MOVING TOWARDS HIM! He flung himself towards the floor again—getting more mud on him than he thought he would that day (which he hadn’t thought of at all)—and waited for the expected fatal blow. Nothing came.

He opened his eyes and peeked back over the rock. The dragon was feeding, but not on him. It had its back turned to him, munching greedily on one of the trapped yaks. Wilbur grimaced, craning his neck to look further and frowned. The amber which it had been encased in was now in crumbles on the ground, the carcass of the animal lying excavated on the ground and the large dragon feeding intently. Wilbur had thought it was impossible to break through.

Then, something else moved through the trees, though it was small and almost unnoticed by Wilbur until it was right next to him. Wilbur turned his head slowly and toppled back, letting out a small yelp as another dragon appeared before him. This one was a lot smaller than the one currently eating; its body was separated into three different sized balls and its tail was small and clobbered. Its wings were tiny compared to its body, and it barely gave a glance towards Wilbur, waddling along towards the valley. Wilbur sucked back in his breath, pushing his glasses back up his nose and getting up off the ground.

The round dragon waddled along into the valley, almost sluggishly and let out an audible roar. The larger dragon suddenly snapped its head up, turning slowly but menacingly towards it. Its legs stood, getting taller and taller until it was towering above anything that had a beating heart. Its eyes were on the sluggish dragon and only that. Its tongue slithered out of its mouth, slowly, going from corner to corner and licking its lips. Very. Slowly. Suddenly, its mouth snapped open, almost unhinging like a snake. Then, it fired.

A heap of gooey orange slime shot out of its mouth, heading strange towards the smaller dragon and smearing all over it. The dragon suddenly seemed to snap awake, roaring horribly and wrenching around in misery. Then Wilbur’s mouth hung open as he saw what happened to it. The goo started to harden on the dragon. It turned as hard as stone and the smaller dragon could no longer mouth. Wilbur’s fist started to clench as he watched the larger dragon advance of the one trapped. It slowly creeped around it, perhaps wondering what side its should start eating it from. Wilbur didn’t know if it was normal for dragons to eat each other, but this one was certainly considering it.

Wilbur was no hero. Nothing special, or even worthy of acknowledging. He’d understood that was his place since he was small. He was one to stand back and watch the ruckus. He was one to watch others play their part, which in action was playing his. He once tried to defy that—or maybe more than once—when he sometimes had to drag Techno away from a fight, before he nearly ended up killing someone. But that wasn’t the slightest bit of courage. It was still cowardice, how he didn’t want anyone t get hurt or use too much of themselves in a match of strength. When he had stood by, even that was still considered cowardice, so nothing he did could ever have real courage.

Now he had been reacquainted with people of his past, Wilbur now remembered that day when Techno and Quackity duelled. It had been a miserable day, from both the weather and the occurrences. Everyone had stood by and watched—their friends that was—because nobody had dared intervene with Technoblade, and nobody dared intervene with Quackity. But why? Why had the one-time Wilbur had stood by been the one time where something worse than simply declining a duel? Why had it been an act of his usual and sickening cowardice? And why was it always his fault? Even when he did try to protect people, he still ended up getting everything wrong.

So this time, Wilbur was not going to be another coward. They were about to go to war, and if he didn’t change his game and try to be a hero for once, then they would lose that war. Lose everything they stood for. So this time, Wilbur stood.

A treacherous thought gnawed at the back of his mind, of how this smaller dragon meant nothing to him, and either its death or survival did nothing to impact his life. How defending a dragon in the wild did not make him a hero. But when he looked hard enough at those dragons, he saw a picture of two people he knew. He saw Tommy, desperate and trapped, struggling against a threat much larger than himself, a grinning and hungry Techno. Hungry for blood, as usual. If he let one little thing die, what would stop multiple big things like his friends from dying? If he didn’t stop one threat to something else, what would stop another threat to something closer to him.

The larger dragon yet out a shrieking call, the same it had before, standing up on its legs as far as it could go and leering down at the smaller dragon. Wilbur stood up, no longer cowering behind the rock. The dragon advanced towards the smaller dragon. Wilbur advanced towards the smaller dragon. Just before it was about to feast, Wilbur raced in front of the cocooned dragon and raised his arms as far as he could outwards, standing boldly before and dragon and yelling, “STOP!”

The larger dragon froze before him, skidding back and looking down at him confusingly. Wilbur’s heart was beating madly, his chest rising and falling like the sun and his eyes slightly closed, as though he was expecting his demise. He opened his eyes wider and turned his head to face the dragon, whose eyes were raised and head tilted at him, like it was examining him with an unsure curiosity. It glared, out of anger Wilbur couldn’t tell and his arms fell in towards his sides slightly, but his expression was still indignant.

“Hey, you hearing me?” Wilbur called towards it, and the dragon cocked its head to the side, almost taken aback, “Well you listen to me! You can’t just go around eating defenceless dragons! Well, not totally defenceless, but without reason. I dunno if its your only food source or means of surviving, but if its not then shame on you! If I’m wrong, then you can toss me aside and get on with your life, but I’m not going down without a fight. Not this time.”

The smaller dragon mewed, thankful or concerned for his arrival, but Wilbur did not turn to face it. His eyes were locked on the larger dragon’s, a staring match between two rival species. The dragon raised its eyes, tail coiling slyly behind it and a low hum emitting from its throat like a growl. Wilbur gulped.

Spreading its wings wide, the larger dragon lifted its head upwards and called, “Rah Rah Rah Rah, Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah.” Wilbur narrowed his eyes, wondering about its song before it lunged towards him. Wilbur yelped, closing his eyes and turning his head away, arms still spread wide. Then, he started to do the last thing he could think of, something that had always been a safety reflex for him. Wilbur began to sing:

“Life isn’t quite what I thought I’d be,
When I was a kid in a Viking city!
I thought, when I get older,
I’ll marry her, I told her!”

The dragon stopped halfway, mouth hanging open and pulled back, frowning at Wilbur with confusion. Wilbur stopped and opened his eyes, turning slightly before the dragon let out a hum of anger and he went back.

“Now I’m 25 and I’m talking like a novice,
Running away’s not the best, I’ll be honest.
If I could change a single thing,
I’d make it me and not here.”

He opened his eyes slightly and saw the dragon watching him with a gleeful fascination. Wilbur smiled and turned to face it, still singing.

“But he’s in your bed and I’m with a dragon!
I’ve got the scales and he’s sellin’ wagons!
And even though he’s got social skills,
It doesn’t mean I can’t fly to hills!
Anyway make the most of him,
Cause she moves on pretty bloody quick, oh-oh.
Your new boyfriend’s a hunter!
WOO!”

“Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah, Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah. Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah!” the dragon sang, flapping its wings and roaring to the sky. Stray bits of amber flew from its mouth, and Wilbur tried his best to dodge them without breaking the dragon’s terms. Wilbur laughed as its swayed from side to side, roaring melodically to his song. Though, Wilbur had run out of lines, and the dragon was looking down at him now, an-almost smile on its face.

It bent its legs and sat down on its tail, seeming not as giant as it had before, and brought its face down to meet Wilbur’s. It really wasn’t as terrifying up close as it was stories in the air. Wilbur held his breath as it sniffed him, large teeth gleaming in its mouth. Then, it moved back an inch and tilted its head. Wilbur smiled and waved his hand awkwardly.

“Ayup,” he said, then sighed as he remembered when he had once taken the mick out of Tommy for saying that, “God, this better not make me sound like Tommy. If all it takes is a dragon, I’ll be walking in the sky instead.”

The dragon only looked at him, and Wilbur chuckled, scratching his head and pulling an awkward face.

“Guess I’m as popular with dragons as I am with people. Speaking of,” he stuck his hand out politely, though he knew it wouldn’t shake it, “Name’s Wilbur. Wilbur Soot to be exact, though that isn’t really a family name. Nicked it off my mum when I realised my dad was a prick. Don’t really wanna be called ‘Watson’ all my life, especially not when he’s had his grubby hands on it.”

The dragon tilted its head again, in a dazzled fascination that the human in front of it was actually talking to it. Or that it didn’t understand a word he’d said.

“Guess language isn’t really your string suit. Wouldn’t mind if I was singing it, would you though?” he asked again, not getting an answer because it was a dragon who could not speak proper English. Wilbur stretched his hand out slowly, watching the dragon’s eyes as he moved his hand towards its face. It didn’t protest. Wilbur landed his hand on its scales—course and rough n texture—and patted them carefully. The dragon let out a joyful hum and Wilbur laughed.

“Like me now then? That’s good. With all this stupid fetch-quest shit…speaking of, I may have a proposition for you. I was told to go and find myself a dragon—ironic on an island of dragon’s, I know—but one I could really bond with. Now, you’re the only dragon I’ve ever spoke to, nevertheless actually have the courage to confront. And I’m not that bad, right?” the dragon grumbled melodically and Wilbur frowned, “Not as bad as some. Anyway, how’d you like for us to be mates? I wouldn’t mind at all; you have the best singing voice for a dragon I’ve ever heard. Not one of them ones that burnt my village were ever so polite as to sing us a song. Sorry, past anger. So, what do you say?”

The dragon moved its head up and let out a roar of tune, stretching out its wings and looking back at Wilbur with a smile. Wilbur smiled back and moved towards it.

“I think that seals the deal, if I understand any dragon way of communication. Which I don’t. Anyhow, er, enjoy spending the rest of your time in my ‘joyous’ and-definitely-not-cynical presence,” Wilbur said and the dragon leant its head down again, humming gleefully, “Now I’ll I need for you is a name. Be much better than saying ‘the dragon’ or ‘it’ constantly. Speaking of…”

Wilbur walked around and observed the dragon from all sides, checking its eyes, wings, claws, tail. He narrowed his eyes and then the widened after he stood back in front of it.

“Wait a minute—you’re a girl?!” the dragon looked at him confusingly and Wilbur bit his nail, then started to wave his hands around anxiously, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course! I love women! Well, maybe not love, have a strong passion—not in a creepy way or anything! Y’know, just a basic, normal—Thor do not tell me that having a dragon makes me into Tommy. Tell me anything other than that. If I have to talk like him for another minute, I’ll just about lose my entire personality trait.” Wilbur sighed and smacked his hand to his forehead in annoyance. The dragon chuckled, swaying her tail and looking at him with a certain delight. Wilbur trailed his hand down his face, his fingers passing over his eyes and smiled.

“Right, yes, a name. Well, um; I’m stumped,” Wilbur said awkwardly and kicked his feet along the ground, “I mean, we’ve only just met, I know nothing about you, y’know…I don’t even know what type of dragon you are.”

She looked at him with a slightly more bored expression and scratched the side of her face with her small claws. Wilbur scrunched up his face, his nose squishing and eyes narrowing.

“Hmm, well, if I had to name what you are, I’d probably say something like…Song…Wing, no; that’s shit. Err…Amber Note…Murder Scales…Misery Melody. Oh Thor, I’m terrible at names,” he scratched his chin and hummed, “Death…Song. Hey, that’s not bad. Still shit, but not as bad. Probably nothing close to what you’re actually called. But Thor, don’t expect me to give YOU a good name now, will you?”

The ’Death Song’ called out in song again, watching a bird fly above her before snatching it in her jaws. Wilbur winced and rubbed his neck.

“Hmm, how about…Amber?” the dragon spat out the bones of the bird towards the ground, amber flying out and Wilbur dodged the attack, “Yeah, that was pretty cheap. Um, Lyra?” another shot of amber, “Melody?” and another, “Lorelei? Siren? Friend?!”

There were so many amber shots that Wilbur could’ve covered himself five times over with it. He came out from behind the rock he hid behind and waved his arms around in the air.

“What the fuck do you want to be called then? Is nothing I say good enough?” Wilbur cried, waving his arms like a mad man. The ‘Death Song’ gave him an unimpressed look and then started to chortle at him, “Hey, don’t taunt me! At least I’m trying and not just sitting there, spitting amber! What do you want me to call you!” he looked at her and rolled his eyes up, thinking, “Symphony? That’s literally all I can think of, so take it or leave it.”

This time, she did not spit amber his way, and simply looked at Wilbur, almost smiling. Wilbur frowned.

“Symphony? Really?” he asked, slightly confused and then sighed as she called out in song again towards the sky, but he did smile, “Fine, if that’s what you want. But don’t go changing your mind again; I can’t stand fickle people.”

Symphony lowered her head to his level, and Wilbur smiled as she did so, rubbing the side of her scales on her face. It was nice to have something that was his, and only his. For a change.

--------------------------------------

Tubbo’s mood still hadn’t changed, nor had his ideals. In fact, he was still the same hardened boy he was back at L’Manberg; one whose true emotions were hidden behind the stone-hard surface of his skin, one who was not easily as swayed as others, but one whose temper was like a fuse; ready to blow at any given second. In short, he got pissed off easily, and Dream’s snarky comments didn’t help that at all. Well, to him they seemed snarky.

He kicked a small stone, one minding its own business but one now finding itself down a hole, thanks to Tubbo. He wasn't one to lie about his closeness to nature, which was none at all, and he wasn't one to hide it either. His time spent with any kind of nature was always to do with Tommy's love for it, and his love for Tommy made him do whatever made the other boy happy. Sort of described his earlier life—or maybe his life as a whole. He could count on more hands than two how many times he had put other people first, above himself, and then he still ended up being the shit-head.

The forest was covered in long creepers that sank lifelessly to the ground and sprawled out for any sign of help, weak little things. Tubbo stomped past them quickly, feet flattening the vines and squishing them further into the mud. His head, like any when they were angry, was full of blurry and thrashing emotions, no words or full sentences, just his thoughts and feelings not-so-carefully squashed inside his head. Like always, his blood was boiled to its highest temperature, and he was assuring that it would stay that way. It was safe to say that Tubbo didn't like to look like a fool.

All he wanted was for Ranboo to be safe, to be fine, to be with him—no, it wasn't that. Tubbo wasn't clingy or anything (he was not, he was not, he was not) it was just that he had spent every day with Ranboo for the last three years and he didn't want their first time away to be on a dragon-filled island. Maybe it was like that with Tommy, but he was strong. Willed. Physically. Overall. Tubbo knew what he was like. He'd lived with him all of his life; if he didn't know Tommy, then he didn't know himself. He was someone who could take care of himself; he'd shown that just by riding that bloody dragon. Ranboo however, wasn't like that. He had grown up so poorly, just his skittishness now could tell you that. I mean, he couldn't even talk for Thor's sake! Until he landed on L'Manberg, his life had been nothing but shit, and his grief could flood an ocean. It just made sense for Tubbo to care, because if he hadn't, then nobody would've.

Tubbo put his hand above his eyes to block out the sun, looking up at the sky to check the sun. It was still quite high, but you might be able to tell that it was on its way to lowering. As usual, there was a dragon in it also, soaring under the clouds and ruining Tubbo's view. Despite a war being fought for them soon to be, Tubbo didn't see the appeal of them still. In his life, he had been told that they were monsters and he'd believed it. They tore down buildings, slaughtered the animals they looked after and countless people. People he had known. Seen. Come from. It was because of them Tubbo had never had a real family. Not that he needed one now—he'd made his own.

It was little and a bit broken, but it was his, and it was still good.

Just as Tubbo kicked another rock, a deafening scream came from deeper in the woods, shrieking just as the stone crackled against the ground. Tubbo flinched and looked around, eyes wide. The noise had sounded like a wounded sort of animal, pained, maybe even frightened. Whatever it was, it was definitely hurt. Tubbo knew the sound. And the feeling. Even on an island that claimed peace, it seemed it never was. The thing let out a sound again, somehow sounding even worse. Tubbo clenched his fists, looking around before the sound was directly between his eyes. He didn't want to be the big saviour, but if some poor animal was slowly dying in the woods, he might as well put it out of its misery.

Cautiously and slowly, Tubbo put his foot towards the noise, and then he started walking.

Maybe it was just the scene, or maybe the prickling feeling running down Tubbo's neck, but the trees seemed to curl down towards him, getting closer and closer to squishing him into the ground, pine needles poking into his eyes. Tubbo walked quicker, the shrieking beast keeping him in the right direction. Every thought in his mind is telling him not to do this, to wander away and keep on sulking, to keep his nose out of anything that was below his eye level. But down somewhere beyond the tangled vines encompassing his heart, there was compassion, and the true fear of having to listen to something else scream like it was being slaughtered. He had heard too many screams like that, usually at night. He had heard too many ringing throughout his head when it got too quiet, too peaceful, too good.

And when he finally saw the creature, it made his skin crawl like it did those nights, because it was something that took his breath away, which was surprising considering where he was.

Its scales were steel grey, covering its long body, which was sprawled out so that its tail curled around it. In fact, it almost seemed to be made out of entirely steel. Its neck was long and thin, covered in thick metal plates that spiked upwards and a horn sat on the middle of its head with a small nosehole, two large green eyes with thick lashes and a long set of teeth that seemed to wrap around its whole mouth, of which snapped like a flytrap. Its body was covered in armour-like plates, similar to its neck, with two talons on each foot. It appeared to have a long, thin tail, similarly made of overlapping, metal-like scales like the rest of its body, with needles that spiked up and down in pattern with the creature's breathing.

It was a dragon, in a few words. And it was weak, in a few more.

Tubbo looked at the creature, eyes wide and hands fumbling to grab at his dagger, the one that sat in his belt always. The one that was from Schlatt. His eyes always remained on the silver beast. It's eyes were flickering open, mouth also and breathing seemed to be slowed down. Tubbo was no vet, but it didn't look in the best shape. It didn't look vicious. It didn't look right.

His fingers grasped at the handle of his dagger, so shaky and quick that it slipped right out of his hands and clattered onto the rocky road, pebbles scratching against the blade. Tubbo winced at the noise, and his throat went tight when the dragon's eyes suddenly snapped open and looked directly at him. They were pine green, hypnotising and stuck on Tubbo's. It was like a staring contest, but if he lost he might get smote. Tubbo's eyes were wide and his breathing quick. The silver beast narrowed its eyes before setting down its head, sighing and looking just as ill as before.

Tubbo frowned and leaned down to pick up his dagger, never losing sight of the beast. It was so...pathetic. It seemed to not care about him at all, not even if Tubbo was going to hurt him. In fact, it seemed like it wanted him to hurt it. To put it out of its misery. He gripped the dagger tightly in his palm—so tight that it dug into his hand—and moved slowly towards the impotent beast. Tubbo looked at the dragon with a certain disgust. Why was it giving up so easily? Why was it so weak that it would wallow around, lying limply on the ground to be killed at any moment? Why let a human approach it so, when he could simply kill it?

Which he was considering. The creature seemed so ready for death that Tubbo was wondering if that was the best course. He had always been told to not hold back against something that needs it, and this looked oddly like one of those times. He imagined killing the beast where it lay, watching metal bleed and finally kill a dragon, the sort of thing honoured back home. Lifting it above his head and praising it to the gods. Taking his kill back to his father and—

That was the problem. Tubbo never knew when he wasn't supposed to be trying to impress Schlatt. He always thought he owed him something, but in truth he never had anything to owe. Being a real son to the man, as if he had lost one before. Tubbo didn't know if he had, or if he had lost anyone at all, ever. It was like nature to him, to try and be the best because if he wasn't than he was failing the man, and failure wasn't an option.

Tubbo wondered what would happen if he did kill the dragon. If he let his pride get away with him again. On an island of dragons—and dragon lovers—it surely wouldn't go down well. Niki, Wilbur or Ranboo probably wouldn't care. Maybe a little confused, but they wouldn't care. If Ranboo didn't care, than it wasn't worth worrying over. The riders would be certifiably pissed, probably enough to attack him, especially that Quackity. He was anger in a physical form. Dream would be annoyed that he'd killed one of his rescue dragons, on an island he fought so hard to protect and live on peacefully.

He would taunt Tubbo, belittle him, maybe even banish him from the island. But Tommy...oh Tommy. The boy would be mortified. He wouldn't know what to do, what with Tubbo betraying him and Technoblade coming for them. Was it really betraying him to kill a dragon? Possibly. It would definitely hurt him for Tubbo to kill the creatures he fought so hard to protect, loved, cherished. Tommy had thrown his whole life away for them, and those who went with him had too. Including Tubbo.

He could imagine his face, feel the blow of the riders's swords, but worst of all, he could hear Dream's words.

"Oh Tubbo, how could you do this to US? To Tommy? He is one of us now, so I make all of his decisions for him now. Just like you and Ranboo. Is that why you did it? Did it look at him funny, give him a wink or piss on his leg? You are so predictable! Guess all I have to do now is send you to the wolves, back to the island, back to disappoint another person who you care for. Oh, and Ranboo will be safe right here. With me. Ha ha ha ha!"

Okay, maybe a little over the top, but it was still enough to make Tubbo's blood boil, his hand twitching and the dagger handle sinking deeper into his palm.

"Fuck that," Tubbo hissed, thumping the blade back into the holt and striding towards the dragon, "If I'm going to do anything, then i'm going to make sure you live, as long as anyone. You'll be the best taken care of dragon this side of the Archipelago, and you'll bloody well like it too! Yeah, I'll tame you, and when they see that I'VE tamed a dragon, boy, they'll never doubt me again."

The steel dragon opened its fluttering eyes and stared at Tubbo with a confused curiosity, unsure what he was doing or probably even saying. Tubbo smiled slyly and stepped boldly towards it, a face upon his own that could resemble those of the ships the riders took the dragons from. All he needed in his hands was a chain.

"Now, what's the matter with you?" Tubbo questioned and stepped closer to the dragon, who didn't make any sort of protest, and leaned over it to look at the other side. Tubbo's eyes widened. His stomach sank.

On the other side of the dragon's body, lodged underneath the metal armoured plates of its scales, was a bloody, battered long piece of wood. It stuck out from under the scales, leaving a large pool of blood underneath, coating the dragon's back in a thick red blood that drip, drip, dripped down to the ground. No wonder it was in so much pain. Tubbo's dagger fell from his grip, clattering to the ground and scratching against a few pebbles, making the dragon's eyes open wider but barely registering with Tubbo at all. All he could focus on was the wound. He stumbled backwards, eyes locked onto it, and nearly tripped over a rock, but he barely noticed.

"I could've done that," he whispered, heart thumping in his ears, "That could've been my hilt in his side. I...I—" Tubbo stumbled back again, this time landing on his backside, not too far away from the dragon. It acknowledged him sadly before lying its head back across the stones, sighing morosely. Tubbo crawled towards it quickly, breathing fast and hands floating above the silver beast uselessly, unable to know what to do. The dagger lay inches from his knees, gleaming in the sun and smiling up at him slyly. Tubbo grimaced and grasped it in his hand, blade piercing through his skin. He snarled and took it back towards his head, taking all the power he needed to throw the wretched thing deep into the forest. It didn't matter to him that Schlatt had given it to him, or even about betraying the man's trust, throwing away the one item he had given him to protect. All that mattered to Tubbo was getting it as far away from him and the dragon as possible.

Then, he leaned over the dragon and gripped both of his hands on the piece of wood. It moved. The dragon's eyes went wide and it roared, gagging forwards and looking at Tubbo with impatience. Tubbo gritted his teeth, eyes narrowed in anger and gripped harder, pulling the wood with all of his strength. It edged upwards and the dragon screamed again, pain painted across its face. Its wings spread out in reflex and it struggled, but Tubbo wouldn't let it out. He grunted, pulling up with all his might and heard the wood crackle against the sides of the metal plates, scraping up and edging closer and closer to escaping. Then, it burst out, knocking Tubbo backwards and the dragon gave one last roar before falling back to the ground—somehow exhausted when Tubbo had done all of the hard work. He gasped, looking at the log angrily and tossed it away into the hedgerow.

Tubbo smiled at the dragon, moving to lie against it and it gave him a nod of appreciation, letting out a low mumble and flicking its tail. Tubbo looked at the wound, which was still dripping blood and pulled out a rag from his pocket. It was a bit dirty, and covered in coal, but it would have to do. Patting it down and wiping off all the coal dust he could, Tubbo flung it around the air one last time before placing it over the dragon's wound, wrapping it around as a sort of tourniquet and finally lay back. It only then occurred to him that he was this close to an actual DRAGON, but when he tried to think about it, it didn't seem as frightening as it should. Maybe that was because the dragon wasn't very frightening at all.

At a distance, maybe. It's tail WAS incredibly sharp. It's jaw WAS terribly jagged and teeth set in every part. Its scales WERE made of literal metal. But up close, it was defenceless and barely dangerous, at least that was Tubbo thought. Friendly enough to let him be so close, docile enough to not attack. Stupid enough to let him move towards it at all. Tubbo lifted his hand above the dragon's muzzle, thinking of laying it upon it when the pupils of its eyes snapped up and looked at him.

They held one moment. That one moment of peace, trust, and understanding. Then Tubbo knew everything he needed to know.

He let his hand fall atop the side of his face, stroking it gently and feeling the hard scales of his face. The metal dragon let out another low grumble, this one of appreciation. Tubbo chuckled and patted it gently, only a genuine smile on his face. One that hadn't been present for a long time.

"Y'know, when people told me about dragons, they never told me about you," Tubbo murmured, looking at the dragon with a soft smile, earning himself a dull roar and small flick of the tail, "I mean, look at you! You're beautiful; truly beautiful. I'm a weapon smith; metal is my life! And you're completely made of it, the nice kind too. Like, the perfect dragon, at least to me."

He grumbled appreciatively and Tubbo chuckled, stroking it all the way down its neck to wings, "I mean, I've had some bad thoughts. Done some bad things too. Lot of people got hurt...but I think one of the best things I've done was saving you. Despite every bad thought I ever had about dragons, I suddenly realised there are things a=out there that are a lot bigger, y'know? Like Technoblade, or an actual war, or my brothers—friends, they're my friends—dying. If I let them just because of a small thing like disliking dragons, well, I'd never forgive myself. Well, I suppose it's more than a dislike; don't really have any parents do I? Ah well, never needed them, I suppose now. Having Tommy and Ranboo—and Schlatt, I guess, though that's the lessest thing I've ever said about him—was better than any two parental figures I could've had."

The dragon yawned, stretching his mouth as wide as he could, shifting around slightly and Tubbo laughed, scratching his head.

"Guess I'm a bit boring when I get going. Truth is, I've never really opened up about stuff like this. Never saw anyone do the same. Schlatt's a tough cookie, never shows any emotion than just 'man', Tommy doesn't like his emotions getting the best of him, or making himself seem weak. Ranboo could never speak about his troubles, but we knew exactly what they were when he told us. I never saw it happen, so I never showed. Didn't want to seem weak, really. I had to hold everyone together when they were going to fall apart, and when they did I had to put them back together again. Suppose that's what sets us apart from the Chief's sons. They never held out for each other, never held on to each other. Let themselves fall apart, but us, we stayed together. And look where we are. Whichever one is better, I can't say, but at least we're together."

The dragon shifted again, moving in a circular way and Tubbo shuffled to resume his position, but it moved again, the same way, and then it darted. Still on the ground, he flapped his wings and moved in a circle, spinning round and round. Tubbo stood, watching as the sand blizzarded around him, watched as the dragon spun uncontrollably, letting out a few roars as its wings beat. Tubbo laughed, blocking the sand from his eyes and watched as he spun quickly before ending up on his backside, wings shielding his face and when they moved away, his large green eyes looked around inquisitively. Tubbo looked at the wound—still covered by the rag—and moved over to the dragon, who on his backside was almost as tall as Tubbo.

"Well, aren't you excitable, Spins?" he asked with a chuckle and the dragon looked at him curiously, standing up and looking at Tubbo with wide eyes. Tubbo narrowed his own and tilted his head.

"Spins?" he questioned and the dragon looked at him again, seemingly listening to him and liking the word he was hearing, "Do you...actually like that for a name? I was just saying it for a joke, but hey, whatever floats your boat, I guess. So, you really wanna be called Spins?"

The 'Spins' in question moved over to Tubbo, knocking him with his wings and grumbling softly. Tubbo placed his hand on the steel dragon's face, who in return closed his eyes for a moment while Tubbo stroked him. Tubbo smiled softly, trailing down his neck.

"Alright Spins, if you're really sure. You also sure you want to be stuck with me? Dreadful, awful, annoying Tubbo?" Tubbo asked mockingly, but in a fun way, and Spins knocked him with his wings, purring softly and rubbing his head against Tubbo's side. Tubbo sighed and patted his on the head.

"Then that's all I can ask for," he said before smiling with all teeth, "Get ready for a life of long-term suffering, then. Cause I'm not going anywhere soon."

-------------------------------------------

For Ranboo, the woods were just another thing he feared. And definitely didn't want to do alone. The howling of the woods made him flinch, and his head was constantly spinning to catch the invisible noise. All something he didn't want to do without the presence of another shoulder against his own. Who was Dream to chastise Tubbo like that anyway? Ranboo wasn't a very defiant person—or one confident with standing up to people, or barley even thinking they were wrong—but even he thought Dream had been rather unfair. Tommy was no help either, pushing Ranboo forwards in hope for 'the best'. Maybe for them, but not Ranboo himself.

It was a DRAGON for Thor's sake; why didn't anybody see that! Yeah, they may be docile or trainable, or even not-always-trying-to-kill-you, but for Ranboo they were still dangerous creatures. They were still animals after all, even if no one else could see that, Ranboo could. He hoped Tubbo still could. No matter how thing were said to change, there was always one person they wouldn't—couldn't—change for. Ranboo would ALWAYS be scared. If not dragons, then something else—someone else, probably. Scars didn't heal, after all.

Still, he was still walking through the woods—regardless of their thoughts of it—with a feeling of quiet in the air, but certainly not in his head.

"What if something gets me?"
"What if I'm eaten?"
"What if I never see Tubbo again?"
"What if I never see Tommy again?"
"What if I never get to tell him sorry?"
"You're alone."
"You're weak."
"You're desperate."
"⍙⊑⊬ ⎅⍜ ⊬⍜⎍ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⏁⍜ ⏚⟒ ⌰⟟☍⟒ ⏁⊑⟟⌇? ⌇⎍☊⊑ ⏃ ☊⍜⍙⏃⍀⎅, ⏃ ☊⏃☌⟒ ⍜⎎ ⌇⍜⍀⍀⍜⍙ ⏃⋏⎅ ⌇☍⟟⋏ ☊⍜⋔⏚⟟⋏⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ⋔⏃☍⟒ ⌇⎍☊⊑ ⏃ ⎎⍜⍜⌰. ⏃⋏⊬⍜⋏⟒ ⟒⌰⌇⟒ ⍙⍜⎍⌰⎅ ⎎⟒⟒⌰ ⌿⟟⏁⊬. ⏚⎍⏁ ⋏⍜⏁ ⋔⟒. ⊬⍜⎍ ⌇⊑⍜⎍⌰⎅ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⎅⟟⟒⎅ ⏃ ⌰⍜⋏☌ ⏁⟟⋔⟒ ⏃☌⍜, ⌰⟟⏁⏁⌰⟒ ⌰⏃⋔⏚."
"Go home."
"⍙⊑⊬ ⎅⍜ ⊬⍜⎍ ⏁⍀⊬ ⏁⍜ ⏚⟒ ⌇⍜⋔⟒⏁⊑⟟⋏☌ ⊬⍜⎍'⍀⟒ ⋏⍜⏁? ⊬⍜⎍'⍀⟒ ⏃⋏ ⏃⏚⏃⌇⊑⟒⎅. ⏁⊑⏃⏁'⌇ ⍙⊑⏃⏁ ⊬⍜⎍ ⍙⟒⍀⟒ ⏚⍜⍀⋏, ⏃⋏⎅ ⟟⏁'⌇ ⍙⊑⏃⏁ ⊬⍜⎍ ⍙⟟⌰⌰ ⌇⏁⏃⊬. ⊬⍜⎍ ⍙⟒⍀⟒ ⋔⏃⎅⟒ ⏁⍜ ⏁⏃⌰☍, ⏚⎍⏁ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⎎⏃⟟⌰⟒⎅ ⏃⋏⎅ ⊬⍜⎍ ☌⍀⟒⍙ ⎍⌿ ⏁⍜ ⍙⍜⍀☍, ⍙⊑⟟☊⊑ ⍙⏃⌇ ⍀⎍⟟⋏⟒⎅ ⊬⍜⎍ ⍙⟒⍀⟒⋏'⏁ ⋔⏃⎅⟒ ⏁⍜ ⏚⟒ ⏃ ⎅⍀⏃☌⍜⋏ ⍀⟟⎅⟒⍀, ⋔⊬ ⏚⟒⌰⍜⎐⟒⎅."

On the one hand, not being able to speak was great (for Ranboo), because it was peaceful, calm and you could do all the thinking you wanted without distracting yourself or anyone else. On the other hand, however, it was one of the worst things to happen to a person (for Ranboo), because it meant they could never say anything to break the silence and the empty void of endless quiet. Well, he could bash his head up against a brick wall, but that would probably do more damage to the wall than himself. Typical.

The looming pines trees almost seem to close in around him, the space smaller and smaller after every second of staring at them. Ranboo breathed shakily through his nose, hand twitching uncontrollably by his side. A loud roar echoed throughout the air, followed by a shadow of a large winged reptile flying above him, then by several more. Ranboo breathed violently through his nose—being unable to physically gasp—and shove himself harshly against a tree. It hurt, for sure, and would probably leave a bruise, but at least he was under a canopy.

Away from them.

He peeked one eye out from under the branches, seeing a whole flock of colourful pointed dragon—exactly like George's, in fact—fly over Ranboo in an orderly pattern, growling and roaring at one another. They were only there for a moment, and then they were flying off somewhere else, not noticing or going anywhere near him.

Ranboo's heart slowed in speed and he closed his eyes, sniffing out loudly and flattened himself back against the trunk. He sunk to the floor, his knees arching up and he put his head between them, hands hanging limply. Frustration was one thing he was feeling, but fear was definitely the prime factor. Everything around him was a threat, a terror, a reason to die, and Ranboo was so SICK of being the victim, the weak, the damsel in distress. The one who needed constant help. If only he could—

SNAP!

Something was moving through the thicket. Ranboo opened his eyes and ever so slowly pulled his head up out from his knees, his heart once again thumping in his ears. Something was moving towards him. Ranboo sat up straight against the trunk, eyes widening and hands gripping the blades of grass that poked at the palm of his hands, ripping them from the ground. He braced himself for the worst, squishing up his eyes and waiting for the final blow of fire and claws that would end his life.

"Who would've guessed that THIS would be my way out," Ranboo thought sarcastically, watching the brush shake around, and as a figure jumped out of it, Ranboo closed his eyes tightly and held onto the ground, unable to look at what was before him. "Thor be with me, and pray Tubbo remains okay once I depart to Valhalla."

There was quiet for a moment, but only for a moment, and then Ranboo felt something rub against his leg. Something scaly, cold and friendly. Ranboo peaked open one of his eyes and gulped. A small dragon was next to his leg, rubbing its head against him and then looked up at him, tongue hanging from his mouth.

Ranboo yelped—more a noise like a cough that a sound of speaking—and pushed away from the dragon, scrambling away on his hands backwards. His eyes were wide, heart thumping, and he had absolutely no idea what to do. 'Stop!' was what he wanted to yell at it, force it away and hide. But he could never say it, and the only language dragon's understood was bloodshed.

He pushed his hands outwards, hoping it would be enough to drive the thing away. It crawled towards him, pupils wide and eyes round, but slightly dumb, and looked at him curiously, still ever coming near. Ranboo's face contorted and he shuffled back, his hands coming up before him without him even realising what he was doing.

"STOP!" he signed, without even meaning too, his hands hovering in the air. Ranboo frowned at himself, looking at his hands, and then even more confusedly at the small dragon, who had stopped in its tracks. Using Ender for him was just the normal; something he did without much thought, like speaking would be for the average man. Of course, there was no use using it to a dragon, because it would not know the signs, but also because it was a language, quite frankly, that he had made up. Ranboo. Tubbo. Tommy. They were the only ones that knew it. So why had the dragon stopped? Ranboo had no clue.

"You...you stay right there," he signed (just in case, and as a way to release his thoughts) and the dragon's tongue flicked back into its mouth before hanging back out, itself panting heavily and eyes. Ranboo narrowed his eyes, still laying dormant on the ground and moved back slightly. He didn't know if such a small dragon could be of any danger, but it still held a tight fear over his head.

From what Ranboo could tell of dragon species from his time on L'Manberg, this one was Terrible Terror. Really, it was no bigger than an overgrown iguana. Its scales were pitch black on its face and body, but its wings and underbelly were blank white. Almost like Ranboo's hair, in a way. Half white, half black. To be even more precise, its eyes were green—like how Ranboo's green eye was under his dark hair. They were also wide and almost all-knowing, not really the stupid look that they usually donned. Its tongue was pitch black too, still dangling from its mouth like a dehydrated puppy.

It sniffed the air, looking at him doubtfully before stepping forwards again. Ranboo put his hands out, which the Terror came quickly to sniff. He yelped and scampered back, until his back was against another tree trunk and there was nowhere else to go.

"Stop!" he signed again, out of desperation more than anything. It wasn't like the Terror was going to understand him, "Just go back and leave me alone!"

The Terror stopped moving towards him, tongue still hanging out, and then slowly scooted backwards, meeting Ranboo's eyes for a moment before Ranboo pulled himself away, looking at the thing's scales instead. Strange how they were two different colours.

(In truth, Ranboo didn't want to meet its eyes. He didn't want to give the dragon—thing, creature, beast, animal, reptile—any emotion or soul. That it was just another life trying to survive. Because then that would make it hard for Ranboo to hate it. For him to keep his values and still want them gone, far away from him, his friends or anyone else, so there was no more bloodshed, violence or hate any longer. Because it always seemed that dragons were the reason behind everything wrong with the world.

Ranboo chose people, not sides.

But in the grand scheme of things, dragons could not be separated individually, so they (unfortunately) were one side, where as people could be split and chosen. For example, Tommy and Tubbo were on the one side of people, but so were Philza and Technoblade. Ranboo definitely knew who he would rather befriend.

In short, Ranboo was yet again scared, but this time in trusting something that would lead to him getting hurt. Not even physically, which made it worse.)

Ranboo frowned and looked at the dragon, then back at his hands. There was something definitely confusing going on here.

"Can it...really understand me," Ranboo thought, but he shrugged that thought away as soon as it came. Unfortunately, it ended up coming straight back, and Ranboo was left confused and scared. He looked at the dragon again, still being scared of it although they had come to an impasse, and held out his hands again.

"Do you know what I'm saying?" he signed, feeling stupid even before he did it, but doing it anyway, "Do you...understand me?"

The Terrible Terror looked at him closely, Ranboo gulped and was just about to shrug it off and call himself a fool when the small dragon made a small sort of nod, barely something Ranboo would've recognized if it wasn't for the fact that he had been staring at the dragon so intently. His mouth gaped open slightly, but Ranboo shut it immediately and shuffled around so his legs were crossed. It didn't even cross his mind any longer that there was a dragon near him. He just wanted to know if, finally, something could actually understand him.

(Tommy and Tubbo knew Ender, of course since they all made it, so they knew what he was saying when he signed. But if there was something that actually knew what he was feeling, to know what he meant and wanted, then that was a different kind of understanding all together. And it was something Ranboo craved dearly.)

"Am I crazy or does that thing actually understand me?" he thought and shook his head, deciding that there was only one way to test his theory. Ranboo faced the small dragon head on, narrowing his eyes as he held contact.

"Okay, this is the proper test, y'know, to see if I'm actually losing my mind or not," Ranboo signed, no longer feeling stupid; only desperate, "If you can understand me, like actually actually understand what I mean right now, then...spin around three times."

The Terrible Terror looked at him for a moment, tongue still hanging out and panting. Something inside Ranboo felt torn, even though it had never even been there anyway. He sighed and looked away, feeling stupid and defeated. Of course no dragon could understand what he meant when he waved around his hands; it was stupid, he was stupid, that little Terrible Terror was—

It was moving. Ranboo had looked back up just in time to see the small reptile moving around slowly in a circle.

One spin.

Ranboo narrowed his eyes. There was no way...

Two spins.

It...wasn't possible.

Three spins.

The Terror looked up at Ranboo gleefully, waggling its tongue like a puppy and sniffing, eyes still locked onto Ranboo, who was looking gobsmacked and as confused as a yak who laid an egg instead of giving milk. It moved slowly towards him, one claw at a time and was about to sniff his hand when Ranboo suddenly jolted awake and retracted his hand away, looking at the Terror with somewhat confusion and annoyance mixed together. He moved up and sat on his knees,; a better position if he ever wanted to escape. Easier to spring upwards and get away.

"Okay, so you may know a language that I made up," Ranboo signed, "Doesn't make any sense, but sure. Definitely not freaked out right now or anything."

The Terror looked at Ranboo, then back at his hand and then Ranboo again, making a small growling sound that didn't sound in the least bit scary. Ranboo sighed and patted the space next to him, taken aback slightly by how quickly it scrambled towards him. He watched the Terror snuff against his hand and then spin around until it was lying down comfortably like a lap dog.

Ranboo chuckled dryly at it; something that sounded so fearful yet was so...cuddly. He wondered how he could've possibly been scared of it before. Though, his heart did still flutter when it moved, but not nearly as much as before. This little thing meant no harm, no much as any small vermin could. It was still looking at him, though, and Ranboo didn't have the foggiest idea why it cared so much about him. Well, maybe cared was a strong word, but was so concerned about being near him. Now that he thought about it, it almost seemed like it had come from the trees just to find him.

"Y'know," he started, thinking if it—or he, as Ranboo saw now—could understand him he might as well talk to it, "I've never particularly cared for dragons, but I never wanted to kill them either. That's a big thing where I lived, but not so much where I came from. There were never any dragons there. But back at L'Manberg, it was all anyone talked about, really. It's the reason The Blade was so popular; he did it SO many times. When we got to a certain age, we were expected to—something to show you're worthy or honourable or something. Even me. But none of us could. I know why now. Tommy cares for them too much. I was too scared. And Tubbo...I guess Tubbo was scared of failing and letting everyone down," Ranboo explained and his face cracked into a smile, "Though one time...one time it was quite funny. Cause we were fifteen, we were supposed to be helping out in a dragon attack by throwing water or...fighting. The women and children were allowed to go down to the cave on the beach, but everyone else had to stay. But Tubbo...heh...he made us put hay in our hair down to our shoulders so we'd look like women. I don't think we fooled anybody, but at least we never had to kill any dragons."

The small Terrible Terror looked at Ranboo we wide eyes and growled softly, rubbing his snout against the palm of Ranboo's hand. Ranboo hesitated before rubbing his fingers along his snout and back, feeling the warm, rough scales of the tiny beast. For once, he smiled, and it didn't occur to him that a dragon was making him happy. In reality, he just didn't care.

"I wonder what I should call you..." Ranboo pondered, but before he could make any direct decision, something else began moving in the bushes. His head snapped up and he leaned backwards against the tree stiffly. Without even thinking, he pulled the Terror in close, maybe as a form of protection but it was disregarded as he suddenly leapt up out of Ranboo's hands and towards the bush, wings flared and eyes narrowed. Ranboo reached out, but without the Terror facing him, he wouldn't be able to communicate with it. The rustling got louder and closer towards them, and Ranboo wondered if something ACTUALLY terrifying was coming towards them. He braced himself for the worst, but when another small Terrible Terror came crawling out of the bushes, all he could do was laugh.

It had pure white scales, with a pitch black underbelly and various spots of black scales all over its body, some small and some long. Its spikes and wings were also black, much like its horns. However, its eyes were blood red, almost frighteningly like The Blade's that it nearly made Ranboo shiver. On its muzzle were two thin but long grey scars, and another one that resembled an 'X' on its body near its left hindleg. It was one of those things that Ranboo would question but never receive an answer to, but he would always know what that answer was.

It was something that made him quiver with anger, even though had he taken a different path in life, it would have been an answer he had come up with.

The white Terror came crawling across to the one who had been near Ranboo, and strangely enough they rubbed heads and began chattering, the black scaled Terror looking back at Ranboo and chattering. Ranboo observed it with curiosity and stood up, advancing towards them. The white one yelped and scrambled back as she saw him get closer, much to the sadness of both Ranboo and the other Terror, who scrambled forwards to comfort the other and chatter something—presumably about Ranboo. He then suddenly realised how similar the two were in colour, size and pattern—as much as two dragons could be—and how they comforted each other, and then it hit Ranboo.

"You two are siblings," Ranboo realised, eyes wide and heart open, looking at the white scaled Terror "And you probably don't trust people, considering your scars. Both physical and emotional, I bet. I wonder if you two were saved from the same ship."

Ranboo moved slowly towards the white Terror, whose eyes darted around nervously. Ranboo held out his hand carefully, closing his eyes and sitting back on his knees, taking a dee breath through his nose. He hoped he knew what he was doing.

"She has to come to me. She has to know I'm not going to hurt her."

It only took a few minutes before Ranboo felt the feeling of warm, rough scales in his palm. He opened his eyes and saw the white Terrible Terror standing in front of him, muzzle in his hand. Ranboo smiled and traced his fingers across her snout, scratching it and making his way down to her chin. She growled softly at the affection and opened her eyes, looking at Ranboo curiously before crawling back quickly to her brother, though she didn't seem to do it out of fear. Ranboo smiled and moved back to rest against the trunk of the tree, sighing and looking towards the sky.

It was a lot more peaceful than it was before, but then again, so was Ranboo.

He looked at the two small Terrors with a smile on his face as they darted around and played, either somehow entirely forgetting he was there or not caring. Then, the black scaled Terror suddenly turned to look at him, spitting out his sister's horn and hanging out his tongue, eyes wide. He bolted over to Ranboo so quickly that all the boy could do was hold out his hands in defence. In return, the dragon scrambled into them and bounded into his chest. The wind got knocked out of Ranboo's gut and his face contorted, but he looked down at the happy little dragon and realised that he was sitting in his lap. That close to him. His front two claws were placed onto his chest, tongue still dangling and he started to nuzzle his head into Ranboo's chest. Ranboo smiled in return and patted him on the head in affection.

He looked up at the white scaled Terror, who was looking at the black one and chattering something, to while he replied back with a loud growl and a flick of the tail. She cautiously moved closer to the both of them—with two pairs of eyes on her—and climbed up onto Ranboo's knee. She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before grumbling and curling around on it and laying down, still looking up at Ranboo. Ranboo, however, was looking at both of them and realising he would never be able to move again. He placed both of his hands on them, feeling the burning ember inside of their chests and the toughness of their hard scales. He trailed his fingers across their backs, and gradually felt the white scaled one become more comforted. Then he moved away his hands to their air.

"I wonder what I should call you both," he signed gently, "That is...if you guys even want to be 'my dragons'?"

He took a gentle nip on his elbow to be a yes. Ranboo smiled.

"Ha—this is funny. Those guys are gonna be expecting me to stroll up with a massive, spiky, flamethrowing, poison-wielding dragon and all I'm gonna do is walk in with two Terrible Terrors on my shoulders. Or knees, depending on if I ever get to stand up again. Or maybe I'll have to just stay here forever and decay, eventually making you two fly away to go and sit on someone else, " the black one whacked his hip with tail, which made Ranboo wonder if it was punishment for his dark attitude, "Well, at least mine will be the cuddliest."

He pointed to the black one, "I think I'll call you Chest," then he pointed at the white one, "And you'll be Pearl. Short for Enderchest and Enderpearl, of course. I think that'll do nicely. I mean, you literally know a language that I made up; we have to appreciate it! You see, 'Ender' by itself means 'secret' in the language we sometimes had been where I came from. That's we why we called it Ender; it was our secret. Our being me, Tommy and Tubbo. An Enderchest was a small chest we had that locked as soon as it was shut and only the owner could get inside. An Enderpearl were these little orbs loads of people had around their houses—which were said to have once been used to teleport soldiers onto the battlefield centuries ago. Not that they work anymore. And, y'know, not that I want to honour my old home or anything; Gods no! I just think that they're nice names—and Chest and Pearl are pretty cute nicknames. At least I think so."

Ranboo smiled again, but this time it was wider and with all of his teeth.

"Chest and Pearl; my little dragons. My friends," he whispered and pulled the two reptiles into a warm embrace, arms wrapped around like they would never let go, and he never wanted them to either.

It was then that Ranboo felt such pure love for something he thought he never would, a type of love he had gotten over the last three years from the only two people he thought mattered to him. A type of love he never got from his parents or anyone else that tried to take that role. A type of love that would be lost in the Watson household. A type of love that was automatic for some, but a challenge for most. One so pure and blessed that it warmed Ranboo's heart just to feel it.

It was then, and truly then, that Ranboo finally felt understood.

Chapter Text

There was a strange sort of calm about the ocean that Technoblade had grown to respect over his many journeys back and forth across it. Maybe it was the only sound to be heard was the colliding of waves or cawing of the gulls, but really it was because there were never any people to get in his way. Techno sailed without a crew, and he liked it like that. And usually his boat of choice was not a warship, funnily enough.

No matter where he stood on the ship he resided on—that being the leading boat of a fleet of twenty ships—there were always people near him, hassling him and expecting orders from him. Even when Techno escaped to the hull, there were people there. All Techno wanted was peace, quiet and a chance to plan his next course of action. Because, quite frankly, he didn't know where they were even going.

Well, it wasn't that wholehearted. He had an idea, though one pulling at loose strings, and as long as they were out on the ocean then they could be anywhere. Of course, no one could ever know where they really were because of they had they would have gone to that island a long time ago. Instead, Techno made his troops follow him out of fear rather than true loyalty, because that could be broken as soon as they saw another side.

That was always the easiest way to lead an army, he had been taught. Even when once upon a time his father had been a slightly decent man before his lack of a wife, he had still told Techno that was the best way to lead an army, a village, a child. Maybe that was to do with Philza's own lack of leadership skills or that he had never properly listened when his own father had told him how to be a good chief. Either that or he never was supposed to be one. There were many things that Techno could say about his father, but one he had always found fascinating was how the man truly thought he was a good chief.

At that time of moment, Technoblade stood at the forecastle of the ship, watching the waves smash against the side of the boat and the wind blow back his hair, eyes barely stinging from the cold. The sound of hearty laughter caught in his ears, and his eyes moved to the corner of their sockets, head not turning but wondering why there was fun on the deck of a ship that would go into battle as soon as it docked. Regardless, he didn't move to check on it and remained as calm as the sea.

Yet, there was another sounding of laughter beyond the wind that interrupted Technoblade's train of thought and made his eyes twitch. He turned his head only barely, seeing no one around and wondering where in Thor's name Philza had wandered off to. Techno sighed, pulling the slipping side of his cloak back over his shoulder and placing the dagger had had been idly turning in his hands back in its hilt.

When he fully turned around, Techno saw a group of men all huddled together in the middle of the boat, simply standing around like young boys playing silly buggers when they were supposed to be the best soldiers they had. That was the very and only reason they were even in touching distance of this boat to begin with.

Techno observed most people like he observed the dragons he killed. Watched them for a while to see what they did, how they acted, how they would respond to an attack. He imagined the points in which he would pierce and strike with his blade; the places that would draw the most blood and make the most amount of pain. Which places would make them really hurt. It was a concept that others could not understand, but Techno did. He had been doing it to those men without even realising; watching them talk, laugh, look around with shifting expressions. None of them saw him. Yet.

Yet as Techno approached, he heard the remainder of the group's discussion, and listened to the grumbling laughter of the men in the middle of the group, or the one man who had captured everyone's attention. Techno noticed his hair was an dark shade of black, but in some lights it appeared an extremely dark shade of blue. It was also very long, past his shoulders.

"—was just common sense, a natural action like breathing. I saw it, so I shot it—" one man said, but his companion interrupted.

"WE saw it, actually...and I'M the one who shot it," he said loudly with pride, rubbing his beard with his mouth wide open with a large all-teeth smile. The other man shook his head in defeat and folded his arms.

"Okay buddy; whatever you say," he said with a bored tone and Techno's nose wrinkled in disgust. These men were nothing but show offs. He didn't even know what their conversation was about, but their tone told him everything he needed to know. There was no denying Techno was known to a lot of people—and his business had been known to everyone too—but he never boasted about it.

It was then that Technoblade spied Philza past the crowd, leaning against the mast and watching them with curiosity. He hadn't seemed to notice Techno yet either; he had always had a tendency to care more about others anyway.

"Even so," the blue haired man continued, "A dragon is still an animal, and there's only one way to kill an animal. Hunt it continuously, so it never gets any rest and knows you're always after it. Them being on edge makes them harder to concentrate and easier to catch. Plus, its nice for them to know you're always one step ahead."

"But, you didn't do that," someone else said, stepping up and their eyes falling to the floor as everyone looked at them, the bearded man glaring, "I mean, you let that dragon get away, not hunting it down. It's probably out there now."

The two men glared at them, and Techno chuckled, which must have been loud because everyone suddenly turned to look at him, eyes wide and bodies rigid. Techno frowned at his entrance and growled, stepping forwards lightly. Philza watched him carefully. Well, now he was known, he might as well join the conversation.

"Quite a compelling argument, isn't it? Whether we make the decision if something dies or lives. While you say that about dragons, it is the exact same for people. The fate of their lives...in the palm of my hand," Techno says slowly, emphasizing on the 'my'. He narrowed his eyes at the blue haired man, standing barely two feet away from him. "What's your name, soldier?"

"Squid," he mumbled, "Name's Squid."

"Funny," Techno said mockingly, "You look like a slippery fellow. Someone I wouldn't trust on my boat, yet wrapped his tentacles around it and climbed aboard anyway. Because only the best and most loyal soldiers are supposed to be here and you, Squid, are someone who—at most—should be somewhere over there."

Technoblade pointed to the back of the armada, to the ships that held the very unlucky, those who had joined the fight to get away from that island, to die (maybe hopefully) and those who were extremely lower down or could barely even hold a sword. It was one of those boats that held all those children. Squid turned back from looking at where Techno had pointed and moved around his tongue in his closed mouth, grimacing at Techno and possibly considering saying something in retaliation. He held off. Maybe that was because he spied how close Techno's hand was to his sword.

"Do you want to know the first thing about really hunting dragons, Squid?" Techno snapped, eyes cold and thrill of the hunt growing stronger, "ALWAYS aim for the wings. Without their wings, they can't fly and if they can't fly they're already dead. Once you get their wings, then you might just get their legs as well. Stops them from going anywhere else. End up just a pile of debilitated scales and frightened eyes. With any animal, if they can't move," he extended his sword from his hand, the blade looking up at Squid maliciously, who looked at fearfully, "Where are they going to go? What can they do? What use will they serve? That's why any horse with a bad leg is always put down. I've had a few myself. Nothing broken is ever going to be used."

Squid gulped, sweat forming on his brow, and he stared only at the blade with terror, taking a few steps back slowly until he was close to the edge of the boat. Phil narrowed his eyes, arms crossed but said nothing from his spot that seemed a whole land away from where they stood. Techno stood poised, feeling the wind in his hair and the fear in the air creeping towards him from the terrified soldiers. It felt good, but only if it had a purpose.

Meeting Philza's eyes, Techno stepped forward, and too quickly before Squid could even begin to move, he plunged his sword deep into the man's chest. Squid grunted, his face going tight as he looked down. The blood had not yet surfaced onto his clothes, but the blade had sunk deep into one of his organs, his life slowly going to fade before anyone could learn to care. Techno snatched his sword back out, increasing the blood's chances of reaching the surface and the pain Squid felt. He grunted again, breathing getting quicker and looking around frantically. Techno placed his hand on the man's shoulder, feeling the underneath crack slightly as his pressure on it got harder. He put his head next to Squid's ear.

"And if broken things cannot be used, then you no longer have any more use on this boat. In this mission. In our tribe. If you even had any to begin with," he whispered, so carefully and quietly that it was a message only for Squid. Techno pulled back, seeing the look of Squid's face and smiling. He took the hand that rocked his shoulder and and rocked it backwards instead, overpowering Squid and pushing him over the edge.

The man's back cracked over the side, toppling into the sea with a haunting look of horror still painted on his face, the ghosts of any words still lapsed onto his lips. His eyes never left Techno's. Techno didn't mind it that much. Anyone else would've been scarred for life, but Techno had seen those looks so many times that it didn't get anymore exciting after the thousandth time.

Technoblade watched the body hit the water, float around for a bit before eventually sinking. He placed his sword back in its holster and breathed in heavily and turned, looking at the horrified faces of the other men. They were looks he had faced a thousand times before, looks from relatives of the deceased whose body lay before them, or passing townspeople as he hauled his kill behind him without much care for etiquette. They were looks that didn't bother him at all, ones that never had, and only fuelled the power he had over them. That, though, was something he had been forced to feel.

He marched towards them, a gap in the crowd forming as he moved closer. No one wanted to be near the murderer on the ship, even if he was the man in charge. Techno turned suddenly, watching them with narrowed eyes, his stance seeming taller by the second.

"There's an example. Now, get back to work or so help me, if I see another one of you simply standing around, you'll be done worse than simply being fed to the Sea-Shockers and Scauldrons. Understand?"

They nodded, some mumbling their 'yessirs' and began to separate, looking at the floor and slumping with less enthusiasm than they did before. Techno huffed and stomped away back to the forecastle, taking away some of his misery by looking back at the violent sea, the part of the ocean Squid would forever reside already getting further away from them by the second. It was enough to make a grown man shiver, but Techno was used to it. Revelled in it, maybe, only if he had the watchful eyes of a crow on him. Speaking of crows...

Techno felt something coming towards him, and as he turned to look at the large sails—painted with the figure of a crow holding a sword in its claws—Philza was no longer standing underneath them. Instead, he was next to Techno's side. Techno's hands went to his sword out of reflexes by how close he stood to Techno. He only looked towards the ocean, so Technoblade did too. They stood in silence for a moment, maybe one for far too long, before Phil finally had the courage to speak up.

"That was a bit too overdramatic, don't you think?" he said sourly, and Techno stiffened, hands going limp over his sword and dangling at his sides. He looked at the ocean out of fear for looking at the man that stood beside him. So weak, yet held so much power over ones head.

"Wasn't it—I thought you wanted it do happen. After all, if you wanted to place your input, you could've done more than just stand there," Techno snided back, with less force than he wanted.

"There's no stopping you when you have murder on your mind," Philza said, turning ever so slightly so that his eyes lay on Techno's, who were faced forward and still wouldn't turn to look at his father, "And besides, I will admit those soldiers will act better now they have fear on their minds."

"If I recall my memories correctly, it was you who taught me not to hold back," Techno snapped, finally turning to face Philza, who was a good few inches shorter in that moment, "And you should make up your mind about things before they end up too late to take back. That man would not have been any use to us in a battle to the death."

"Even so, we're one soldier short than when we left."

Techno stood silent, turning his gaze away from Philza and to the men behind them, scurrying around trying to act as if they were doing something of importance. The key word was trying. Something Technoblade did everyday.

"What do you suggest I do instead, Philza?" Techno asked, looking up to see the grimace of Philza once Techno had said his name, something that had always bothered him as Techno had grew.

"I suggest you treat me with some respect, as your Chief," Phil said coldly, with a small glare, but one so small it did nothing to Techno, "And learn to control yourself. Save your bloodlust for the battlefield, not for the boats. Besides, it leaves a bad aftertaste on the decks. And, if you don't mind me saying, there should be only one person you set out to kill when we land. The others can be left to hang. Good riddance."

"Even Wilbur?" Techno asks, out of a sudden curiosity to see how far from grace Phil would really fall. Phil arched his eyebrows, pulling his face into a snarl.

"Especially Wilbur. That boy had done nothing but bring down our family. First, well, he shouldn't have even been born. Then he just stands there..." Phil zoned off, thinking about past events that haunted every night, pictures of flames and wings, noises of screams and growls and sights of a little boy watch his mother be taken away. He shook his head to get out of his dreams and looked back at Techno, "He left us, but not just us but his people as well. He was the heir, and he had as much care for L'Manberg as a babe would. Wilbur is a traitor, and he would rather play with dragons than stick with his family. He can rot in the gallows for all I care."

Phil turned away, maybe to walk away or simply face away, but Techno's face contorted into an anger, without even meaning to. He wouldn't lie; he wasn't very fond of his brother's recent actions either, as Techno had clearly stated by his last conversation with him before his departure. But Wilbur was still, as stated before, his brother and family was supposed to be the most important thing according to Philza. But now he was saying he would kill his son as quickly as a knife could cut butter. And as someone who had grown up alongside the man in question—always together, always friends—it angered him to a point where his emotions were never supposed to interfere.

Without even thinking, Technoblade took out the dagger from his belt and threw it to a piece of long mast next to where Philza's head exactly sat. It snapped into the wood, crackling and the hilt stuck out just beyond the Chief's ear. There was silence and stillness in the air as the two stood, one back to the other in near shock. Techno's face stayed blank, but the corners of his mouth were tugging down. A few shipmates closer to them looked up at the scene for a few seconds before looking away so their eyes would not meet Techno's.

"Don't you ever speak of him like that," Techno said warningly, pointing one finger out accusingly, "He is my brother, my twin, and your son. You could show just a bit of empathy for the people you are supposed to love."

Philza still stood still, but then he turned slowly, his long black cloak billowing past his legs. His face though, that was what unnerved Techno slightly, and faces never did that to him usually.

His eyes were half closed, like they were tired but still twitched with fury, his mouth open slightly and his tongue wiped his front teeth in annoyance, his nose wrinkled with disgust. Put it altogether and it was a pure painting of disappointment, fury and belligerence. Philza stood poised, eyes the only daggers he needed as he looked at Techno, not moving or even speaking, but doing enough to put Techno on edge.

"The only person I ever loved died a long time ago," Philza said simply, speaking so slowly so his words could register in Techno's head, "And there have NEVER been any others I have EVER cared for. Not Schlatt. Not Wilbur," he stepped forward until he was close to Techno, but the general was too stunned to even feel it, "Not even you. So do me a fucking favour, Techno, and do the job I fucking told you to do. Because I am in charge. Not Schlatt, not Wilbur, and definitely not you. So, you're going to do some things I tell you to, because I AM IN CHARGE. You're going to take us to that island. You're going to lead a battalion against those annoying little shits. You're going to slaughter every single one of those dragons. You're going to kill Tommy Innit. You're going to get the rest of those riders, torture them, hang them and finally rid this world of them. You're going to make sure our legacy lives on forever, and when I die you are going to keep this tribe alive. And you know what Techno? After all of that has taken place, you know who is going to be the face of all that misery. You. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Philza turned away, happy with the effect his words had left on his son and walked away, to be ushered through a dozen men wanting his advice and leadership, wanting orders because their only quality was being to what they had to do.

It was then that that one something inside of Techno finally wore away after that. His ability to feel even the slightest thing from anyone; finally gone. Philza had finally broken it down so much that it had finally ceased to exist. He stood silently, still watching the place his father had stood before, frozen. His chest moved slowly, his eyes barely blinking, even as the wind pushed against them. Then, he moved over to rip his dagger from the wood, splinters falling to the ground and a large chunk left in the mast.

It had been happening more and more recently; Techno losing control of his emotions. Letting them slip past his guard, his protective outer shell. And it was all because of that boy. It was like he was weakening Techno, tipping him over the edge and making him act like he never had previously. Before he knew of Tommy Innit's existence, he had been able to act courteously and hide his emotions away. Not anymore. Techno had never faced anything like him.

He moved again to look out to the sea, his dagger rolling over his fingers. It was like he had gone back to the start all over again. Except this time, Techno had lost more than he had started out with.

----------------------------------------------------

Tommy sat on the grass, legs crossed, and a book spilt over his lap. The sun of the winged island was at its highest, spilling a warm beam across his face and chest. Mellohi was nearby, preoccupied with observing every moving and lazy thing in the surrounding area. Tommy looked up at him and smiled, turning a page and looking around himself. It truly was beautiful.

He sat across the cavern from the Community House, under the shade of a crystal tree (which he was shocked existed) with the Book of Dragons in his lap. It was the only book he had with him, and he didn't want to take one of Dream's. The others—though they had already been gone for a good three hours—were still out looking for a dragon to tame, apparently, and the riders had gone back to their houses to replenish. Tommy had been invited, but he declined. He was more of an outdoors person anyway.

Putting the book away in his satchel, Tommy stood and walked over to Mellohi, who was watching a large blue butterfly go from flower to flower. Tommy scratched him under the chin, receiving his recognition but not his total concentration, which was still stuck on the butterfly. It flew around for a bit before eventually coming close to Mellohi, who looked at it with wide eyes as it landed on the horn on his snout. Tommy laughed at the look on his face, eyes wide and stood still so he didn't damage it. Eventually, it flew off and the Triple Stryke watched it go before it was gone behind a line of trees.

"Man, I really don't know how people think you're deadly," Tommy murmured, looking around and walking away slowly, Mellohi bounding after him. Tommy walked back over to the tree and retrieved his satchel, pulling the strap over his shoulder and giving Mellohi a gentle pat, who growled softly in acknowledgment.

"I hope those guys are alright. I mean, Niki can take care of herself, same for Tubbo (though he's a bit big-headed at times). Wilbur's an idiot, but not so much that he'd actively walk into a dragon nest. And Ranboo...well let's just say I hope he isn't dead."

Mellohi growled in agreement, then tipped his head up to look at the sky. He looked back at Tommy with surprise and tilted his head at the sky. Tommy moved around him and looked up, narrowing his eyes. There was a dragon coming towards them. Very quickly and very loudly. And very orange. Tommy tried to see what kind it was, but then he realised how close it was to impacting into them.

"AARGH!" Tommy shouted, shuffling back slowly, looking up at it before trying to run away. He was too slow, so Mellohi raced after him and grabbed him in his arms, flying along the ground and crashing into the ground just as the other dragon impacted into the grassland. Tommy looked over Mellohi's wing to see the spreading of dust into the air, and heard the growling of a dragon and grunting of something else.

He got up, checking his own dragon was okay and moved cautiously towards the orange crashed landing. It had very large wings and a long head, a tail coiled up over its head. When its head snapped up and it manoeuvred to get up, Tommy met its eyes and saw what it really was.

"Death Song," Tommy muttered, moving back slightly and feeling out for Mellohi, who was close by. He growled at the Death Song, who hummed back defensively, looking back repetitively at something behind it. That something groaned again, shuffling around behind the dragon. Mellohi roared, snapping his tails apart and stepping forward, a sudden crackling in his throat that Tommy had never heard. Now that he thought about it, Mellohi had never really been one to attack with fire; only against opposing dragons. Just as it seemed Mellohi was about to fire, someone ran out in front of the Death Song.

"Wait, wait; holy shit don't fire!" Wilbur Soot shouted, running out with his arms in the air. Mellohi gagged, his fire going back down his throat and making his cough, grimacing and looking from Wilbur to Tommy. Tommy stood, mouth agape and eyes narrowed.

"Wilbur? What the fuck are you doing?" he yelled, running over to meet the man. He looked up at the Death Song cautiously, who observed him with narrowed eyes before looking at Mellohi, who didn't seem totally trustworthy of it either. It stood towering over all of them, its legs taller than Wilbur even. Wilbur turned back to look at it, patting its side and its brought its head down to his level, humming a melodic tune that sounded too nice to be from a dragon.

"Err, had a bit of a crash landing. Not too good at giving directions to a dragon—or steering one, but hey; we made it here regardless," Wilbur said, smiling at Tommy with that same smile he had seen so many times, one that would never change and always be for him. Tommy smiled back, then something clicked in his head and his face turned to one of curiosity.

"What a fucking minute..." Tommy said, standing back and observing the situation, and then his eyes went wide, "No shit; you got a Death Song! They're, like really rare. And dangerous. And beautiful, I mean, look at it."

"Her," Wilbur said simply, "She's a female."

"Hmm," Tommy hummed, arching an eyebrow, "You? Actually get a girl to like you? You must be mad!"

"Piss off," Wilbur said jokingly, punching Tommy playfully on the arm and they both smiled, "Wait a minute; is she actually a Death Song?"

"Yeah why?"

"Well, I was coming up with names that it could've been, and Death Song came into my head. All fictitious of course, but I guess I was right," Wilbur grinned and then he thought of something, "Oh, her name's Symphony, by the way."

"Symphony..." Tommy repeated, "That's a nice name. Crafted by you, I'm sure?"

"Obviously. She has a nice voice, and she knows how to keep a note."

"Kinda funny how you ended up with the music dragon," Tommy said and Wilbur smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Guess she suits me nicely then," he said simply.

Tommy turned his head to look at the two dragons. Symphony was now humming at Mellohi, sniffing him and grinning. Mellohi growled, looking around anxiously and gave a shifty look at Symphony, who seemed to be getting too close to comfort. She stuck her claws out at his tail, and he jumped away, growling. Symphony sung out melodically, then accidently spat out some of her amber, which shot up into the sky and rained down towards them. Tommy jumped out of the way, but when he looked back Mellohi wasn't so lucky, having his wing wrapped up in amber. He roared in annoyance, whacking it with his tail and claws, headbutting it with all his might. Tommy sighed and walked over to him, moving his claws away so he couldn't cause any harm to himself.

"Calm down, mate, just leave this be," he said soothingly, turning his head to frown at Wilbur.

"What?" the man asked confusingly, "I didn't do anything."

"You could keep your dragon under control," Tommy said impatiently, as the amber would not come off no matter how hard he tugged at it.

"We met, like, a few hours ago. I don't I'll be able to be a dragon master in that time," Wilbur snapped, folding his arms.

"That's a first," someone else shouted, and the two of them turned around to see who had now arrived.

There was a small river close that trailed under the bridge leading to the grassland, and a large water dragon was gliding along the surface of it. By its beautiful scales and patterns, Tommy recognised it instantly as a Tide Glider, but only after he recognised the lady riding on its neck, her back and blonde hair flying behind her as they moved swiftly. Tommy's mouth hung agape yet again as he saw her and Niki smiled at him. As the approached the land near them, the Tide Glider bowed its head and Niki stood up, leaping off and landing on her feet. She patted its head and turned to them, hands on her hips.

"For you not being the best at something, I mean," she restated, walking over towards them, "But also the women, that too."

"My Thor..." Wilbur said, looking at the Tide Glider with fascination. Tommy couldn't blame him, "That dragon is gorgeous. What is it; the angel of the sea?"

"Sounds like a battle name," Niki suggested, but smiled, "No, that's just Zuko. He is like an angel, though. Very soft spoken and polite. He kinda found me, anyway, his eyes were watching me from the water."

'Zuko' looked at them all nervously, calling out softly and looking at both Mellohi and Symphony with anxious looks; almost as if they might suddenly snap and start attacking him. For a large dragon on an island full of dragons, he seemed pretty on edge. From what Tommy could see of his body, he looked kinda scratched up and a few holes in his wings suggested trappers—which made sense as a dragon living on an island full of rescues. Though, he didn't look like he had fully recovered.

"Course you had to have the water dragon, Niki," Wilbur said jokingly, "Never could get you away from the water."

"Well, you had the singing one, so you can hardly talk," Niki said back and turned to Tommy, "What kind of dragon is he anyway?"

"Tide Glider," Tommy said instantly, "Very rare, but very gentle. They can shoot a ray of acid or water, and their saliva has healing properties. Very quick and quite strong but certainly skittish; surprised you managed to come so close to one. They can also—"

"She asked for the species, Tommy, not a whole essay," Wilbur snided and Tommy frowned.

"Shut up, man. I'm just telling her facts about her dragon. You'd be pissing yourself with excitement if I was telling you about your darling Death Song."

"No I wouldn't, because I'm not a nerd."

"Okay Mr Guitar."

"Fine, tell me something about her, and I promise I'll 'try to hold back' for gushing," Wilbur snapped, folding his arms indignantly, and Tommy smiled slyly, arching his eyebrows up and looking back at Niki, who also wore a similar smile. The three dragon looked at them with confusion.

"Okay; dragon facts incoming. Death Songs use their melodic calling to lure prey to them—usually dragons. Almost like a siren, in a way—"

"Already knew that," Wilbur said, batting his hand.

"Okay Bigshot—Death Songs CAN actually eat eels, despite other dragon being horrified by them. They also use their amber to catch their prey into a cocoon-like-shell, unable to be penetrated except by fire. They're very fast, but lack stealth and agility in small spaces. Their jaw muscles are very strong and can hold dragons that weigh as much or maybe more than they do," Tommy stopped, looking at Wilbur's expression and smiled, "Not smitten."

"Not as much as you suggest. All that does is suggest that I have the best dragon," he said stubbornly, rubbing Symphony's face and smirking. Tommy sighed, and just as he was about to give another snarky comment about the situation when someone whistled for their attention. His head turned to the right, seeing who was there.

Out of the brush, walking slowly with a dragon under his arm, was Tubbo. His face looked just a little happier, his smile slightly wider, and he waved at them. Tommy was still marvelling at the Razorwhip he had at his side; one hand on its side and almost seemingly walking it towards them like a support guide. When he finally arrived next to them, he plonked the dragon down on the ground, rubbing it gently before looking up at them with a wide, sheepish grin. Tommy was almost taken aback by it; a sight he had not really seen for so long.

"Ayup," he said, meeting Tommy's eyes and standing, still shorter than Tommy though. The Razorwhip looked up at him, mewing slightly and turned its head at Tommy. The other two watched the two boys stand opposed—when all they really wanted was to embrace and let their feuds of the past fade to dust. Tubbo's hands turned to fists (a reflex he had learned to grow into) and Tommy's shoulders grew squared.

But instead of fighting, Tommy simply smiled at his brother and moved forward to pull him into a warm and soft hug. Tubbo, taken aback, stood with his arms by his sides, his face red. Then, he smiled softly and wrapped his arms around Tommy, breathing in that cosy, cinnamon and spruce smell that Tubbo had long forgotten. When Tommy finally pulled away, he felt Tubbo still reaching out, but he leant down to look at the Razorwhip. It seemed weak, but it didn't LOOK injured.

"What's the matter with him?" Tommy asked, looking up at Tubbo.

"Oh, err, I find him lying in the forest with a big piece of wood sticking out of him. Got it out, but was still bleeding loads and quite weak. Didn't think it was fair to make him lumber my weight around...so we walked," Tubbo explained, and Tommy examined the Razorwhip. Like how he used to watch Sam tend to his dragon. He stood up and nodded comfortingly.

"He looks fine. Could do with a bit of rest, but no life threatening injuries. Seems like a tip top dragon—though I guess Razorwhips are quite good dragons anyway," Tommy explained and Tubbo's eyes sparkled with fascination.

"Razorwhip, huh? Sounds deadly; I like it!"

"You seem...different, somehow," Wilbur said, "Maybe a bit of personality came with that new spirit?" he said jokingly and Niki elbowed him in the ribs. Tubbo rolled his eyes.

"Hardy har har," Tubbo scoffed sarcastically, but he turned back to Tommy still, "Anyway, his name is Spins."

"That sounds...fun." He didn't really know what else to say.

"What else about Razorwhips, huh? What do they do?" Tubbo asked, and Tommy was happy to see him so excited about something.

"Well, for one, their tails can cut through anything; wood, metal, bricks. You think of it, they can cut through it. Like an invincible knife. Their very agile, very strong and quite flexible, despite the metal. They can shoot barbs from their tails like a Nadder, and their firepower could burn the flesh off of a human from one hundred feet away. They can also make sonic booms, and their tears are poisonous. However, they're not very good when their hatchlings, cause they're blind. But still, he's a good dragon to have. Especially for a smith like you," Tommy explained and Tubbo nodded.

(Spins mewed, pushing himself off of the ground so he was standing. The dragons congregated to the inner circle, Symphony taking interest in all of them, sniffing and whacking and roaring, which momentarily made the dragons become lured before shaking the sound away (Tommy guessed either they had become immune to her sound after living here for so long or it wasn't very strong, as Mellohi wasn't that strongly affected) and Mellohi grumbled at her. Zuko still floated in the river, not looking particularly fond of getting that close to them. Spins looked at them all curiously, walking over to the two on land and growling, which was responded back with another growl and a language Tommy would never be able to properly understand. At least they were all getting along.)

"Looks like we all managed to NOT get eaten, then. Or at least fail at the job," Wilbur reported and Tubbo frowned.

"Not Ranboo," he stated, looking around, "He hasn't turned up yet."

"He's probably on his way. You guys weren't that far apart in time of getting here," Tommy said reassuringly, shooting him a smile that Tubbo did not give back. He just stared into the woods anxiously, "Look, you guys all came back happy and healthy; a dragon under your wing (pun not intended). Ranboo will be the same."

"But he isn't as capable as us," Tubbo said quickly, "He doesn't know how to do things like this by himself."

"Because you never let him," Tommy mumbled—supposed to be a thought left bouncing around miserably in his head but came out, and seemed to be loud because Tubbo suddenly snapped his head in his direction.

"What?" he snapped.

"I'm just saying—" Tommy started but Wilbur stepped forwards between them.

"Alright guys; pack it in. We don't need another big argument. I know it's not my place, but it'll do more harm than heal. Besides, if Ranboo was in any real danger we'd go look for him. Dream said the island wasn't that dangerous, as long as you have a basic knowledge of survival, which I'm sure someone like him does."

The two younger boys stood in silence, nodding their heads slightly and relaxing. Tubbo still looked to the forest anxiously, and Tommy knew he couldn't stop him from still caring.

"Where're the others?" Wilbur asked Tommy, clearly trying to disperse some of the remaining tension.

"Back at their huts; said they were going to get more supplies and come up with a clear idea of what to do. I didn't really wanna interrupt," Tommy explained, and Wilbur nodded as he took it in, "It's a big situation...innit? A war?"

Wilbur grinned comfortingly, "Nothing we can't handle. Specially under the guidance of you, Mr Dragon-Rider."

Tommy smiled, but it was very weak. He honestly couldn't understand how everyone felt so sure that he could be a good leader. He had always thought that it was the one thing he couldn't do. Then, Mellohi's head shot up, his ears bouncing up as he strained them, and his head turned towards the bushes. No one but Tommy noticed, and he was the first to notice as Ranboo walked out, nonchalantly and not as scraped up as anyone thought.

He turned his head to their direction, smiling and putting his hand up to wave. Tommy smiled back, relief filling his heart and waved as well, moving towards him with built up speed. The other looked at him, finally noticing Ranboo and Tubbo's eyes went wide, beginning to run in Ranboo's direction as quickly as he could. As they collided, Tubbo smacked into him, wrapping his arms around Ranboo and making him stumble backwards. He smiled down as the shorter and smiled, wrapping his own arms around him and fluffing his hair. As Tommy approached, they shared a look, then nodded at one another.

"I'm so glad you're alright," Tubbo said through his shirt, muffled but audible to those nearby. Ranboo smiled, pulling out and whipping out his hands.

"Of. Course. I. Am. It's. Me," he said and Tubbo sighed, but Ranboo placed his hand on his shoulder, "You. Needn't. Worry. So. I'm. Too. Stubborn. To. Get. Rid. Of."

"I think that's reserved for me," Tubbo mumbled and shook his head. Tommy looked around the nearby area, frowning when he had not seen what he wanted.

"Where's your dragon?" he asked curiously, eyebrows narrowed, "Did you not—"

Ranboo waved around his hands, signalling Tommy was wrong and looked behind him, brows arched.

"They. Should. Be. Here..." he said, not fully focused on them and instead on the trees. Sticking his fingers in his mouth, Ranboo whistled loudly, the sound reverberating through the trees and through the ears of all living things. They stood still and silent for the moment, before two small, flapping figures flew out of the trees, spinning slightly before landing on both of Ranboo's shoulders.

Tommy recognised the tiny lizards as Terrible Terrors, and though they were small they both easily fit on Ranboo's shoulders, making even putting weight on them. Ranboo looked at both of them, scratching their chins with his hands as they growled. Tommy noticed also that the one on his left shoulder had black scales with certain white scales patterned across it, and bright green eyes, while the one on his right shoulder had white scales with certain black spots, and horribly red eyes. Almost like Technoblade. Tommy shuddered as he looked at them, then narrowed his eyes as he observed it. Though, it seemed Wilbur had the same train of thought and was able to speak it before Tommy had the chance.

"Wait a minute...that shouldn't count," he said, getting everyone's attention again, "I mean, that's two dragons! Yeah, I guess they're a bit small but still! Wait...how are you supposed to ride them anyway?"

Everyone made a silent, cooperative agreement to ignore Wilbur, but he still made a point with his last question. Ranboo couldn't really be a dragon rider if he couldn't ride his dragons, but he looked resolute about his dragons. He rubbed the black one under the chin and looked at them.

"I'm. Not. That. Fond. Of. Flying. Anyway," he signed, and although Wilbur couldn't understand what he had said, Ranboo pressed on, "Besides. I. Already, Like. These. Two. Anyway. This. One," he pointed at the black one, "I. Named. Chest; Short. For. Enderchest. But. She;" he nodded at the white one," Is. Pearl; Short. For. Enderpearl."

"Those are nice names," Tommy said comfortingly, then saw Wilbur's face and whispered to him what Ranboo had said. It was a bit annoying how only he and Tubbo knew what he meant, but it couldn't be helped.

"I. Drew. A. Little. Inspiration. From. My. Beloved. Home. Island," Ranboo said sarcastically, "But. Mainly. Well," he trailed off, looking at them nervously, "It's. Because. They. Can—"

Ranboo was interrupted by the loud roaring of incoming dragon, all equipped with a rider or two. They all turned to look at them, walking back to the middle of the grassland to meet with the other dragons that stood further back. Tommy looked back at Ranboo, but he thought he saw that the boy was somewhat relived that he had been cut off. He petted his shoulder dragon, picking Pearl up and putting her in his arms, Chest curling around both of his shoulders with his tail hanging off the side. Both looked more like lapcats than fire-breathing dragons.

As Dream and the others met the ground, Tommy noticed that Karl rode with Quackity instead of his own dragon. While that was strange, it was even stranger to pick to ride with Quackity of all people. Dream leapt to the ground and trudged over to Tommy, his Light Fury following quickly by his heels. The two men met opposite one other, similar in many ways, yet still so different. Dream smiled and gestured out to the group behind Tommy; his own men standing out behind him.

"Looks like you've assembled quite the team," he said smugly, "That wasn't that hard, was it?"

"Not like it ever would be," Tommy said, sharing the man's smile and Dream grinned. He suddenly stood up straight, his arms folding behind his back and for a minute, he almost loomed over them.

"Now, for a proper introduction—to really kick this thing off," he cried, raising his arms in front of him. Tommy saw Quackity roll his eyes, "My name, as you know, is Dream. You may consider me the 'Leader' of the riders, but we our all a team and so everything in cooperation and decisiveness. A pack, you could say. This Light Fury is my partner, Nightmare is her name."

"You called your dragon Nightmare?" Tubbo asked, with a hint of bitterness in his tone, or maybe it was just disbelief. Dream narrowed his eyes and smiled daringly.

"Well, it made sense. I'm Dream, so she's a Nightmare. Not that she is, but she is to those who meet her in battle," Dream explained, and as he clicked his fingers the Light Fury suddenly snarled, her teeth appearing suddenly in her mouth from her gums, her eyes wide and sharp. Dream only grinned and tilted his head, expecting that to be an answer. He turned, pointing at each of his friends, "George; his Deadly Nadder is called Somnun. They can be sleepy at times, but when their awake they have a sharp shot and a great brain. Sapnap; his Monstrous Nightmare is called Blaze. They're the brute strength of the team, and the overall strength. Never ones to back down from a fight. Also great in the forge. Quackity; his Sandbuster is Nevadas. Quick and elusive, they can sneak up on anyone and complete a mission asap. Nevadas also, unlike other Sandbusters, can stand being in the sunlight for a while without being burnt—as if sure you're aware. Karl; he has a partner of a Crimson Goregutter named Kinoko. He's a big dragon, so he has a big nature, but also the disadvantage of a big heart. Pretty strong too, especially with those horns. They're our backup, and our guides at leading other dragons back here without scaring them away with power."

"Where is your dragon?" Tommy asked Karl and the man chuckled nervously, scratching his head.

"Uh, yeah, Kinoko's not really a big...awake kinda dragon. He's quite big, so he needs a lot of energy and hours of sleep to be able to function properly and, y'know, do stuff. So he's still asleep at the moment; takes a whole cave just for himself. I kinda wanted to conserve him for the fight anyway, so we could have some real brawn and brute strength in it," Karl explained and Tommy nodded in understanding. Dream looked at him for a moment before he understood what he wanted.

"Oh, uh...yeah. I'm Tommy, as I'm sure you know. This is my mate Mellohi, he's a Triple Stryke...though I don't really know why I'm telling you guys that," Tommy muttered, bowing his head in embarrassment and turned to face his friends so he wouldn't have to look at them, "That's Niki and Zuko, Wilbur and Symphony, Tubbo and Spins, Ranboo and Chest and Pearl. Don't really know what they're good at cause they only just met, but, um, yeah; that's us. Any questions?"

"Only a statement," Dream said, "On what we're going to do next. I've had a good think about what the next phase to do is, and I think I've come to a conclusion. We don't really know when they're going to attack. It could be tomorrow, or the day after, or at the end of the week, month or maybe in a few years. They might not even have set off yet, though that probably isn't the case with Techno—he does things quick and easy. Regardless, we're sitting ducks waiting for a blow, and that's just waist of time. So..."

"So?"

"Well, I have a pretty good idea of what to do, but for now the day is growing shorter, and we can't have you guys falling asleep on the job. Sapnap and Karl, you guys take them around the island and get them settled in, the rest of us will patrol and count the dragons," Dream said, turning his back to Tommy, "We can go through what to do in the morning."

"Aww man; why do I need to do babysitter duty?" Sapnap whined, pouting and looking at Dream with exasperation. When Dream remained silent, he sighed and waved his hand over his shoulder, "C'mon then you lot, follow us."

Their small group followed after the two men—dragons shortly behind—and as Tommy looked back to see Dream, he saw the man already on dragonback and flying off with George and Quackity; off to somewhere more exciting than where they were. He looked back, Mellohi close by and patted the Triple Stryke on the side, then following suite behind the others.

As usual, Wilbur was bickering with someone—this time Sapnap—and no one had the energy to hear it. Though Tommy did want to be actually doing something instead of sitting back, he had to admit that he was also tired from the long do, and he certainly didn't want to push Mellohi past his limits.

"—was only saying it as a source of exasperation, didn't mean to OFFEND you," Sapnap snapped sarcastically, walking backwards while arguing with Wilbur, who looked equally as displeased, "I mean, I'd rather be fighting than making your beds."

"So you want there to be a fight?" Wilbur snided.

"Yeah; might make something interesting go on. Mean a long time since I really had the thrill of a kill."

"Oh the Gods, can you guys please calm down?" Karl sighed, pulling a face of discomfort, "I don't know why people like you always have to make a new way to be petty, but I'd like a rest from it thank you. I can already tell there's going to be more than a few remarks on that battlefield. Oh Thor; I hate how this is what we have to call this place. A battlefield, not a safe place."

"Well, we knew it wouldn't last, didn't we?" Sapnap said, somewhat quieter, "I mean, why did we go and explore so much this last year if not to..." he trailed off as he caught Tommy's eye and coughed, turning around and brandishing his hand, "Err, but, yeah, over here we have some...trees and...grass, but over here is...more trees."

Once they had crossed over the ravine, they traversed a part of the island Tommy had not yet seen. The hills grew steeper, almost like a wall over the nearby area and as they climbed them, the view of it got bigger and bigger until they were on top of the world, and everything else was below them. A group of houses sat scattered on the ground below them, poor attempts at a chiselled path somewhere in between them all, yet a waterfall fell to one side of the village. Six small huts were the centre of it three lined up on each side and one bigger than the others which made Tommy believe it to be a storehouse of some kind.

There was a small staircase built into the side of the hill, which they ascended down quickly to reach the ground. Sapnap turned suddenly, waving his hands above his head like a spokesman.

"Welcome to the village; not much but it's where we reside most nights. Hut on the left is Dream and George's, the one behind is mine, Karl and Quackity's. Big one is the storehouse, as you might tell. You guys can take any of the other ones for now; I don't care who stays with who. Get comfortable and have a look around, if you want. Nothing much to do until tomorrow, but I'd say it's about five now, so you can get something from the storehouse if you want. Not too much, though. So...yeah," Sapnap explained and Karl sighed.

"You could try to be a bit more hospitable Sapnap," he said disapprovingly and Sapnap flapped his hands.

"What duje want me to do? Through a party? I'm more for action than comfort, so if you care, you can deal with it. C'mon Blaze," he huffed, patting his Monstrous Nightmare on the side before climbing atop him and taking off, flying far into the distance and leaving them standing there. Karl sighed, trailing his hand along his face before turning and smiling.

"Err, sorry about him. Or, everyone. We're not really used to hosting people here. If anyone turns up, they usually die from hunger or the Sentinels before we have to find them, so...But, err, I do actually have to go and check on Kinoko, so don't mind if I go do you?" Karl asked, and as Tommy shook his head, his smiled, "Thanks. Oh, I'll be back later to check on you guys, and if you need anything head to the north of the island."

The man gave a thumbs up, then started jogging away north, not looking back once.

--------------------------------------

So that night, they did exactly what they had been advised.

When checking out the huts, they found out that all huts but one had two beds, for the other only housed one bed, probably from the hand of one of the men that shared a room with three. It seemed none of the riders wanted to sleep alone at night, for their nightmares of the past might come up from the depths to catch them once again. So the decision was made that Tubbo and Ranboo would bunk together, Tommy and Wilbur and then Niki alone in the one-bed-hut, which she liked just fine. They mingled for a bit before settling back inside, for there they would stay until tomorrow.

The dragons, as no place was made clear for where they would stay, happily stayed in the rooms of their riders (although Zuko slept in the plunge pool) with some like the two Terrors and Mellohi happily settling into their beds as their riders drifted off to deep into sleep to care. But when they awoke, or at least Tommy, he found himself more on the floor than on his bed as Mellohi was curled around the frame, his lower part blocking the bed though still sound asleep.

He never heard any movement from the other cabins—or at least the ones with the other riders—and never saw anything from the windows. But there was still a strange peace in the air as he lay there; something he didn't think would happen after 'escaping' L'Manberg. He thought he might have some trouble, or maybe even nightmares, but he slept as peacefully as he would on Snoggletog.

Still...he couldn't shake the feeling something wasn't going to go right. Maybe not now, but the future for sure.

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On their second day on the island, Tommy and the others awoke early in the morning, where they were all shocked to find that they had had a comfortable and peaceful nights sleep. After they were finished faffing around (saying hello, going for a walk, eating breakfast; that sort of thing that isn't at all interesting) they walked down to the Community House.

Some might find it strange that they travelled on foot rather than dragon, but three of them had never had any training to actually ride a dragon, and one of them didn't have one to ride, so it was best they took it slow and walked that morning.

Tommy saw the outline of a few figures there already, so as he travelled across the bridge, he did it with a smile and with pace to get their eagerly and quickly. Karl saw them coming and waved, a grin on his face, and must've said something to the others because then they were all looking. All of them—apart from Karl, of course—had their dragons with them, and although the Community House was just an average flying building, it seemed as though it was able of keeping less than a dozen dragons in it without cracking or cramming them in.

"Good morning," Dream said with a smile, his hands still stuck on a piece of paper on the table, "Hope you had a good night sleep. Things can be...off, when you've just got out of a sticky situation.

"No, it was fine," Tommy said, and scratched his head, "A bit TOO good, if i'm honest. If that's even a thing."

Dream smiled again, then turned back to the table of scattered paper, waving his hand behind him to tell them to gather around, which they did promptly. It seemed the man really had been doing a lot of planning. Sheets of paper featured essays of words, dozens of drawings and a lot of them curled up into balls. Mellohi sniffed at it before recoiling and grumbling. Nightmare appeared next to him, purring and looking at him, which led Mellohi to swap sides to move away from her. Tommy didn't know what about Nightmare Mellohi didn't like, but something bothered him. Maybe it was her eagerness.

"So; what's the plan?" Tommy asked.

"Well, this. We need to prepare for a full blown attack, so there are some things that need to be done to be fully equipped. Luckily for us, there are five of us, and five of you. Five times the amount of work to do. So, here's what I think; me and Tommy will do some dragon training, to increase that power. What I see is that Nightmare and Mellohi are some of the strongest dragons we have, if you count their species. Nightmare is experienced, where as Mellohi isn't. We can change that. Tubbo and Sapnap can go down to the forgery and get on those suits and other weapons," he turned to look at Tubbo, "From what I hear, you're quite the smith. Sapnap's the best smith I know; blacksmith, armoursmith, weaponsmith. You name it, he can probably do it."

"Pffft, I mean," Sapnap started, scratching his head, "I'm alright, I guess. Nothing too special."

"Am I hallucinating, or did you not big yourself up for once?" Quackity said with a sly smile and Sapnap frowned at him, his eye twitching but not saying anything. Quackity smirked.

"As for you, Quackity, I think you and Niki should go on defences, makes sure everything is protected, the Sentinels are good for a fight and keep watch. It can be on a rota if it gets too tiresome for you both."

"That's fine," Quackity said, turning his head slightly to lock eyes with Niki, "I'm alright with Niki. As long as I'm not with HIM," he snapped, looking straight at Wilbur, who in return glared right back.

"Ditto," he said, and Tommy winced at his poor reply. C'mon; he could've said something better than that.

"As long as we've come to an agreement," Dream said, and then pressed on, "Wilbur and George will make sure the weapons are good and stock up on some more once Tubbo and Sap have done any, but make sure they're ACTUALLY good for use, else you might just find your sword snapping in half mid fight. That leaves Karl and Ranboo; who will check on the dragons, feed them, make sure they're alright and if we're losing, able to fight. Any who can't will be moved to the southern part of the island, in the mountains. Everyone understand?"

Everyone nodded, Tubbo looking around for a moment before agreeing. Dream nodded, taking a breath before smiling and looking around. His hand trailed around the air for a moment before Nightmare moved under it, her head looking up at Dream as he patted her.

"Alright then; let's crack on. Go for the majority of the day, and if anyone sees anything, meet either at the Training Grounds or the forgery," Dream said, and as everyone collectively agreed they met with their partner and headed off. Tubbo gave one last look at Ranboo, then Tommy, before he left with Sapnap. A look which said more than words could.

When Tommy was left with Dream, the two stood quietly before Dream suddenly snapped back into life and started moving towards the east bridge. He turned to face him and waved his arm forwards.

"C'mon; it's this way," he said, and Tommy followed quickly, Mellohi closely behind. When they had crossed over the bridge, Dream climbed atop Nightmare and gave Tommy as look, "I trust you're alright with flying?"

Tommy smirked, clambering onto Mellohi's back swiftly and looked down at Dream when he was sat ready, "There's nothing I love more."

"Then just follow close behind," Dream said, sliding down his mask and patting Nightmare on the head. She spread her wings and took off the ground into the sky. Tommy looked down at Mellohi, who growled in reply and quickly took off into the sky, following suite behind the Light Fury and her master.

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"Now; fire!"

A large purple blast shot through the air, landing smack in the middle of the target. Nightmare purred, looking fondly at her shot and turning back to look at Mellohi, walking silkily back to Dream with a smug look on her face. Mellohi shuffled back, oblivious to what the Light Fury was doing or why she was still looking at him. Dream smiled and rubbed her on the head, giving her praise before going over to the metal target to wipe away the blast.

Five tall metal targets, all painted with four circles like an archery board and standing tall like dummies. Tommy looked back at Mellohi, who was shuffling towards him and looking at him anxiously. Tommy moved over to rub his hand across his muzzle, scratching him under the chin and smiling. He went to speak, but he heard the footsteps of Dream behind him and turned.

"You ready?" he asked and as Tommy looked at Mellohi, he nodded, "Okay, just tell him to go whenever, then. Don't worry if he doesn't hit it, though."

Tommy nodded and looked back at the Triple Stryke, "Okay mate; just aim at the target, dead centre, with your fire. Just, y'know, try to hit," he said and Mellohi growled, moving forward in front of the targets. He looked back at Tommy one more time before turning back to the target.

A rattle sounded as he wrapped his tails and his throat hissed as he let out a ball of fire to the target, roaring and shooting. It dithered a bit before landing just below the middle of the target. Tommy winced and looked back at Dream, who smiled and moved over to go wipe the target. Mellohi turned around, looking at Tommy and then Nightmare, who purred smugly.

Maybe it was his natural instincts kicking in at an opportunity to attack, or the odd chance that Mellohi took Nightmare's flirtation as a challenge, but it was in that moment he suddenly snapped. He roared, his tails rattling and winding, and he ascended into the air. Curling up in a ball, he spun around, shooting fireballs in the exact direction of the targets. Dream leapt out of the way of his fire before he got severely burned. Mellohi flew across, shooting every shot directly into the target. On the fifth one, he uncurled out of a ball in the air, landing back on the ground and, looking back at the three of them, shot his last shot directly into the target smugly.

Tommy's mouth hung open, brows raised in a way that showed shock but also humour, especially when he looked at Dream's face. Mellohi walked over to them slowly, giving Nightmare a smug look and gurgling at her, almost like a laugh. Nightmare growled, turning away and blocking him from her sight with her wings. Tommy saw that she was preening her claws, but her also noticed that long scar down the side of her body, the one that wrapped around the bottom of her wings. He frowned.

"For the love of Thor; that was incredible!" Dream said, jogging over to Tommy and Mellohi. He gave Nightmare a side glance before chuckling, "Seems Nightmare isn't too pleased at someone outdoing her. Though, I guess we don't really have a lot to improve on now."

"Oh, no, we do...err, sorry," Tommy said, scuffing his feet along the floor, "I mean, we could still keep practising."

"To be honest," Dream suddenly said, "I really just wanted to talk to you. I thought it was time was got to know each other, y'know, far from the prying ears of anyone else," Tommy had heard those words before, but they sounded less threatening when they come from the mouth of an ally, "To be honest Tommy, I think we're a lot alike. Both strong, capable leaders, those who found a dragon in the woods and led their friends to safety. Well, you found your dragon by dumb luck, while I found mine by my own foolish actions."

"What do you mean?" Tommy asked, and as he did so Dream moved over to Nightmare and rubbing her neck, which made her move and lean up against him with affection. Her scar was visible, and Dream pointed to it.

"See this?" he asked, and Tommy nodded, "I did this."

Tommy's eyes went wide, and he frowned, "You...what?" Dream looked at his dragon with pity and a sort of sadness, with memories that only his eyes had been around to see, and he would be the only one to see them forever, bound to him until he died. His own curse of binding.

"I regret it everytime I look at her, truly," Dream said, and Tommy believed him, "I was not much younger than you—what was it, nine years ago? It was about a year or so before we left the island, so I was fifteen. We used to have a lot more dragon attacks back then, before Techno became a fully adept hunter. One night, we all had to help out, either by fighting or using water on the fires. I thought I could be sneaky and try to use a contraption I'd been making to take down a dragon. It was like a bola launcher, but instead of shooting out a simple net, it shot out one with increased tension on the strings, and several sharp points to stick into the dragon. Well, as 'luck' would have it, when the others went to help the village, I went to avenge it and took the cannon to an open field. I stood there for a few minutes before something came by, and I shot at it. It hit, and the dragon fell down to the woods. No one was around to see me, so no one believed me when I said I had shot down a Fury. But immediately the next day, I went to the woods to check it out. Didn't tell anyone, either, not even my friends. I used to spend a lot of time in the woods, usually to find food and stuff for my mom, so it wasn't uncommon for me to go. When I went deeper in, I found her smashed against the ground, by a lake. She was entirely wrapped up, bleeding in several places and barely alive. Those little sharp pieces that were on the net had entirely gone in and scraped along her scales. If they had cut any deeper, her wings would not have been attached."

Dream stopped for a moment, taking a shaky breath and rubbing his eyes with his whole hand. Tommy let him have a moment before he continued, then signalled for Mellohi to have a go at the targets again. As he shot, he hit the middle again, the fire still trailing along before being blown away.

"I went to kill her, an surge of confidence suddenly in me, but then she looked into my eyes, and I looked into hers, and I realised we were both just as scared as each other. I let her out, and she attacked me, of course, but she let me go, in return I think. She couldn't fly, for a while, so she was stuck in there, and I was stuck with her on my mind. I went everyday—which totally made my friends suspicious—and tried to help her, got closer to her and finally got to a point where we trusted each other. Her wings could be used again, but that scar would always be there. A forever sign of my stupidity. After a few months, I rode on her for the first time, up high in the clouds where no one could hurt us. Yeah, it was hard keeping it a secret, but it was had to be done. Of course, it didn't stay like that for long, because eventually George, Sapnap and Quackity all found out, got too nosy for their own good. But I suppose, in a way, it was good they did that, because I would hated to be exiled here by myself. They all found themselves a dragon, either in the woods or from the captured horde the village had taken during raids."

"What about Wilbur? Or Technoblade?" Tommy asked.

"I didn't talk to Wilbur much at that time. He pulled himself away from us, probably because of Philza. Techno on the other hand......well, let's just say he got as far away from us as he could. And once we all got dragons...he was angrier than ever. Traitors, he called us. A lot more things he called us as well. They found out what we were, and what we had, they were going to kill us. Let us hang, or let us rot. We escaped before they could, but we left so much behind. Our families, for one, but we were half free, because they would always try to hunt us. I bet they've tried to come after us, right?" Tommy nodded, "Desperation at a lost cause drives most to insanity, and that is something Philza has too much of. Techno is troubled; he's been led astray all his life and doesn't know what's right or wrong."

"You saying he could be good?"

"Possibly. Problem is, he's too stubborn. He listens to no one, except the occasional command of Phil. You'd have to really break him down to the cracks, and to be honest, I think someone like you could. You get under his nails, in his head, plaguing him to no end and driving him up the wall. He's powerful, and if he was on our side we'd have an even greater force with us. Techno, somewhere, is a good man. He was once my friend, and when he was he was a great one. We were alike in our ability to chase and thrive off the hunt, but our strategies were similar, in a way. Though mine were based more off of skill and his brute strength, we still got the job done, though mine slightly quicker. Though, when Kristen died, he just...cracked. Wore away after all that negativity from his father. He stopped being a friend, a brother, even a person, and just became a weapon. I did feel sorry for him, but that was before he tried to put a blade through my skull."

"Speaking of family," Tommy started, "Though it may be too thin a link to make, I spoke to your sister not to long ago. I know she was your sister because you're so alike, as I can see now."

"Drista?" Dream asked, his eyes wide with hope and care, "Is she alright?"

"Yes, I think so. She sounded...still full of spirit. But she misses you a lot. She said she would come and find you guys, if it wasn't for your mother."

Dream sighed and flicking his hand, Nightmare suddenly let out a blast of plasma across the air, directly to the target.

"Among other things, I found myself plagued by thoughts of those two. Wondering if it was the right decision to leave them. She was so young when I left—what was she, six? I bet she's fourteen now; all grown up without me there to see it," he said sadly, "If we ever won...but, ah, no matter. But speaking of family, as you say, how about you? What family did you leave behind?"

"Oh, uh, heh, I don't really have a family. Or maybe I do; I'm still working that part out," Tommy said and looked at Dream's confused face, "My parents are dead. Died in the same attack that Wilbur's mother did."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dream said, and Tommy nodded, "What happened to you, then?"

"I got offered around a bunch to loads of selfish villagers before Schlatt took me in," Tommy said, with just a hint of an anger he had kept to himself for so long, "Me and Tubbo both did."

"You're the kid that lived with Schlatt?" Dream asked, "I heard about you, maybe even saw you a few times. I was surprised he ever bothered to take care of a couple of kids, especially where he came from. Didn't think he had it in him."

"He wasn't so bad," Tommy admitted, "A little rough around the edges, but he kept us alive, and chose to when others wouldn't batt and eye if we were thrown into a ditch. Wait...what do you mean 'where he came from'?"

"Didn't you ever know? He was Philza's adopted brother." Dream explained, and Tommy's whole world stopped.

His eyes went wide, his mouth hung agape, a thousand different thoughts running through his head at one sentence that he should've none a long time ago. Tommy was surprised, of course, and none of it made sense, of course, bur at the same time, it was just another thing no one had ever been bothered to tell him as an act either of their own laziness or their thought that he didn't need to know.

"No...I never knew that."

"Hmm. He could've been Chief, for some reason, but he turned it down, for another unknown reason. I think it was just his father preferred him to Philza, his own flesh and blood, but really that makes more sense. I mean, have you seen the man?"

"Do they not...get on?"

"Don't think so. I mean, I haven't been on that island for eight years, Tommy, and you're asking me all the questions about it. Well, from what I heard, they were close as kids, for a bit, but eventually Phil grew jealous of Schlatt, for 'taking' his father's love, his heirship and his growing popularity in town nearly cast Phil in the shadows. Thor forbid that ever happen. But then Schlatt said no, so Phil became the heir. Kind of a multi-generational thing, isn't it. Two sons, one given the heirship but gives it to the son who is disliked the most. Hey, now that you think about it, you and Wilbur could be kinda cousins, if you count adopted family as family. Ugh, guess that means Techno too."

'Cousins', it whispered in Tommy's head, but that didn't sound right, not to Wilbur. Brother, it whispered, but that didn't feel right. Maybe in another lifetime it did, but for now, Tommy only had two brothers, and none of those were the Chief's specimen.

"But anyway, when their father died, Phil either cast Schlatt out of his house or Schlatt left before he could. He became the stain of the town, other than that other guy, and Phil got everything he wanted, or he did, until now. Regardless, I'm sure he's got tired of him and thrown him in a prison of some sort, now they're away. There's no way he'd ever get on that boat if you were the ones they were going to be fighting."

Tommy nodded, zoning out after listening to what he had said and staring off towards the ground. He felt something col touch the palm of his hand, and when he looked he saw Mellohi nuzzling it. Tommy rubbed his hand round his muzzle, sighing and patting him gently on the head.

"You alright?" Dream asked, and Tommy could only nod.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Now, let's get back down to business."

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For the rest of the day, they left their past behind them for the duration of time they needed to stay behind them. They trained their dragons hard, and their dragons worked hard in return. They stayed out until the sun starting to lose its strength and fall from the sky.

When they returned, it seemed everyone else had been working just as hard to, with new weapons in the forgery and dragon scale suits on their way (the bag of scales Tommy had given them were in use, but it turned out they had quite the collection of scales from every dragon on the island to make everyone elses).

On the third day, the all did the same, returning just as tired but well-worked as they had the day before. But on this day, the new suits were made, not to be worn that day but the next, when they would be ready to be continually used. To be featured in the battle of a lifetime.

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"Woah; this is awesome!" Tommy exclaimed as he turned around in his new suit. It was white with red and black accents, his helmet large and spiked, along with his forearms. His boots were tall and had two fake claws sticking out at the end. His belt was red and tight, with three small beaded threads hanging from it in white, red and black. Like Triple Stryke tails.

He smiled, looking from Dream to all of his friends, who were also adorned in new wear. The other riders were out on patrol, watching the oceans and fearing that the lack of battleships meant they would soon be on their way. No one had actually thought about what would happen when they were in the midst of the battle, it seemed. Ten dragon riders compared to dozens of ships full of soldiers didn't look like an even match—even with an island jampacked with strong dragons.

Wilbur's suit was bright yellow, with different patterns of orange and red, different lavender frills hanging off of his limbs and joints that mimicked Symphony. Two small horns stuck out of his head, one on the front of his face and spikes stuck out of his back. The wings on his back were massive compared to his body, not quite as big as Karl's, but getting there. He was a spitting image of his beloved dragon.

Tubbo's suit was a dull, stony grey that looked more like rock than metal, with various plates sliding across one another to create many layers of scales. Various brown leather belt wrapped around his legs and waist, his boots looking less flamboyant than some. A small horn sat between his eyes, and although Sapnap had not given him a tail, he still had something long and pointy built into the back of one of his legs, almost like a fake Razorwhip tail that would never move. Although he didn't show expression at a lot of things, he did smile as he admired it.

Niki's suit was a coral blue, with various aquatic scales stuck all over it and different fins on his shins, arms and shoulders. Different patterns and trails of blue rained across the top of it, with a few spikes on her back. Two long, dissimilar strands of coral were stuck to her head like horns. A long, turquoise belt with a strange symbol was wrapped around her waist, though it bear some resemblance to her dragon.

And then, finally, Ranboo's suit was a mixture of both black and white, with both colours neither picking a side and instead mixing in with different patches and spots. The colours around his eyes corresponded to his own, and the dragons he was mimicking. Two tiny horns stuck out from his head, while dozens of small spikes stuck out from his back. The wings he had weren't very big, but they fit in nicely with his theme.

Overall, everyone liked their suits. They admired them with bright smiles and eager eyes, and looked at Tommy with a grin. Tommy nodded and looked at Dream, who was watching them fumble with his arms crossed.

"So, what do you think?" he asked, and Tommy grinned.

"Perfect, as usual. These will be great to fight in...and I'm assuming the wings work?"

"Of course."

"Then, really, those guys don't stand a chance!" Tommy said, clenching his fights with a fiery passion.

"Keep that spirit, Tommo," Dream said, grinning and they stood, in such peace, for that one moment.

Then, the Earth collided with terror, and it made the offspring that was the next sentence Tommy heard.

There was a loud roar, the turning of heads and growling of dragons, and as Tommy looked he saw three dragons flying swiftly towards them, with four riders who didn't look too pleased. They landed on the grass just as everyone ran out, a state of such urgency in the air, and no one knew why it had been invited. They ran over to meet, and when they collided the four riders were red in the face, out of breath and scared.

"What's the matter?" Dream asked quickly, the tone of a slight fear in his voice, "C'mon; tell me!"

Tommy felt out in the air, and as he did his desire came out to him, rubbing its muzzle against his palm. It was calming to have Mellohi so close, especially in a stressful situation. Everyone else had their own dragons close by too.

Sapnap stood up finally, looking Dream square in the eyes with an angry look.

"They're here," he said quietly, and it was then the silence had been broken, and the reality had come forth to slap them out of their tranquillity. Dream sighed, rubbing his face and looked at everyone again before meeting Sapnap's eyes.

"How far?" he asked simply.

"Beyond the mist, but to the opposite of the Sentinel wall. I don't know if they can see through the Changewing skin, but they're certainly heading our way. Dream—"

"Get all weapons ready, and all dragons kept safe where they need to be. I don't care who does it; just make sure it's done!" he took a breath before continuing, "For the love of Odin...though I guess we knew it was coming. You guys, get in position behind the wall, make sure teh Sentinels are around to fight and don't come out until you know when to."

Dream moved to get atop Nightmare, but Sapnap grabbed his wrist and looked at him sternly.

"What in Thor's name are you going to do?" he asked through gritted teeth and Dream smiled softly, shaking his head.

"Distract them. Keep them focused on me for as long as possible. I'll stand on the beach and keep them occupied, them the rest of your guys will wait by the wall. A couple of you further back—in case they get in here—but everyone has to be in the air, or the sea, in your case Niki. No getting off your dragons unless totally necessary. Always stay moving unless you're too high; I don't want to see any of you with a hole in your chest," he got out of Sapnap's grip and got on Nightmare's back, about to take off before he turned to face Tommy, "Tommy...stay safe. Techno wants you the most, so we have to make sure you're the last he gets. Stay further away, and if something happens to us—well, don't hesitate to take whoever's ;eft and get out of here."

"And what if I have a plan of my own to get rid of Techno?" Tommy asked, arching his brow.

"If it's good, use it. If you know what you're doing, do it," Dream said, then grinned, "Just don't let all our training go to waste. ANY of it."

Tommy nodded, and Dream smiled one last time before putting on his helmet and taking off. Before he disappeared over the wall for maybe the last time, he called out to them again.

"AND KARL—MAKE SURE YOU GET IN YOUR FUCKING DRAGON THIS TIME!" he shouted, then, and only then, he was truly gone. Karl smiled and sighed, looking around at them.

"Guess I better go wake the sleeping giant," he said, then gave Sapnap a reassuring look, patting his open palm, "I'll check on the dragons and be back before you know it. Anyway, I'd like Kinoko to give them a 'nice' surprise anyway."

Then, like Dream, he moved away from them and was gone before they knew it. And then Quackity, then George, then Sapnap. Tommy climbed on top of Mellohi, looking down at the others as they also rode their dragons—some of them for the first time. Ranboo was helped up atop Spins with Tubbo, sitting nervously behind him with his arms wrapped around his as Chest and Pearl sat on his shoulders. Niki sat on Zuko's neck, with Wilbur on Symphony's.

"I know you guys aren't very experienced with this sort of thing as the others," Tommy said loudly, speaking to all of them, "The riding or the fighting, but I promise, I won't let any of my friends die today. No matter the cost. Just...hold onto their horns and pray your dragon trusts you as much as your trust them."

"To Valhalla or nothing," Niki muttered, a faint trace of a smile on her face.

"To Valhalla or nothing," Tommy repeated, giving them one last nod before putting on his helmet and, slowly but shortly, taking off into the sky.

He prayed to every god he knew that that was true.

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"General, we can confirm there is definitely an island, sir," one of the shipmates said, passing the telescope to Technoblade, "But, um, there appears to be something standing on the beach."

"Four legged?" Technoblade asked, taking the telescope and putting his good eye to it.

"No, sir, two. We can't identify what it is, though, sir."

As Techno looked through the telescope, he saw the figure of a two legged, scaled creature standing simply on the beach, nearly as if it was waiting for them. It didn't really have a face, and its outer body was a gleaming white, with several frills on. Then, to Techno's surprise, it reached its hands up to its face and seemingly took it off. Instead of revealing a skull of a strange beast, it revealed a very human face of a man with scars and blonde hair, with gleaming green eyes. He seemed to notice Techno looking at him and then had the audacity to bow at him. Techno growled and shoved the telescope back into the man's hands.

"Keep on heading to the island," he snapped, moving away from the meek man, "With any luck, that'll be our destination. Don't shoot the man, though. I might as well see what he wants to say BEFORE I kill him."

"Yessir," the man said, taking one last at Techno before scurrying away.

Techno took a deep breath, taking in the salty sea air and harsh wind. When he opened his eyes, the sight of Dream standing on the beach was still in front of him, but now seemingly closer. He grimaced and turned away before the man could aggravate him any longer. Seemed eight years apart was still not long enough for him to be furious when he saw him, even from thousands of feet away.

"Seems we really are going to fight today," he said to himself, then a smile formed on his face, his fingers itching to grab his sword, "Thor, this should be fun. Meeting my old friends after all this time. Why, we should have a celebration for this!" he looked at the horde of weapons his ship had accumulated, the cannons in the sides and crossbows built into the ship.

"A fiery one, for sure. And with any luck, more people should be dead this evening than alive. Especially if they've been taken by my sword."

Technoblade took another look at Dream on the beach, and as he knew the man would be wearing that same green smile, Techno smiled back.

Chapter Text

To say Dream was scared was an understatement. He was terrified.

But, instead of cowering and quivering, he held his head high and took long, deep breaths, staring into the barrel of the gun which was the ships of his enemies. He turned his head just slightly, so no one watching him from afar could see what he was looking at. Nightmare—with only her head visible from her cloaking—stood hidden in the foliage, watching Dream anxiously. He smiled, flicking his hand slightly, and she backed away even more.

In the fleet coming directly towards them, there were about twenty ships, all equally distributed to each side. Although that didn't seem like much, it was the amount of soldiers that truly put Dream on edge. They all stood in stiff lines, faces worn down of all emotion and spears in hand. Most of them barely looked the age to be in a war. Dream gritted his teeth, but stood still anyways, his arms folded behind his back and his mask clasped in his hands.

He could see Technoblade. It was hard not to, what with his stature, clothing and long, pink hair. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and he had never been any different. From what Dream could tell, he was watching him closely, maybe deciding if he should kill him immediately or see what he had to say since he had put himself in such a vulnerable spot. He could already imagine the smirk on Techno's face; to know that he had the high ground.

It wasn't all that long before they came close to the island. The other ships stayed further behind, moving into a more open position, while Technoblade's docked onto the beach, the bow crunching into the sand. Dream took one last breath before it all began. Then, he smiled.

Technoblade, ignoring all the commands of his crew, jumped down onto the sand, his cloak billowing behind him and his mask dangling by his waist. His sword was held tightly in his hand, and it seemed it would never leave it. Fist fights were for children. Real soldiers fought with swords.

As his feet touched the sand, he stood up straight (seeming even bigger than usual), he locked eyes with Dream properly and for the first time in eight years, they were face to face. Dream smiled. Technoblade glared.

"Hello, Techno," Dream said, smirking and speaking as calmly as someone would to an ally.

"Hello traitor," Technoblade snapped back, leering down at the man clad in white. Dream smiled and shook his head.

"You always were one to be blunt," Dream said, "I didn't expect that to change after all these years."

"And I never expected you to stop smiling. Honestly, that smile is so annoying, I figured I better tell you now before it ends up being too late," Techno said, then narrowed his eyes, "What do you want?"

"What do I want? That's a bit hypocritical when you are the ones coming to attack us," Dream snided, but then he smiled again, this time to just piss him off, "But really, I just wanted to talk. After all, it has been a while. But then again, it's quite hard to when I have a million eyes on me. Guess you couldn't help bringing Daddy along for the ride," he said, taking a look over Techno's shoulder at Philza, who was watching them—or rather Dream—with vicious eyes.

"You say that like you don't have four riders hidden in the brush behind you," Techno snapped, "Or should I say nine, now those little 'escapees' made their way here. Which I'm sure they did?"

"Of course," Dream stated, "But they're under my protection while they're here, and you're not laying a finger on any of them."

"Hmmm. I won't lie, one of that has certainly captured my attention. I'm sure you know who, if you've kept an open mind."

"Yes, he is certainly an impressive boy; one who could grow to have immeasurable potential. And he will, as long as he lives."

"IF he lives," Techno restated, "Which he surely won't when I find him. You know I never miss. Quackity surely knows that—if his face is still plagued by that scar."

"Oh, it is. And he curses you for it everyday. I'm sure he'd love to have a go at you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Techno said, smiling for once, "Now, since I've enjoyed our little chat, I'm willing to forge a compromise. I'll go back to my ship, get everything sorted and everything right, and we won't attack for another...five minutes. You can go back to your pathetic army and do what you need until we do what we have to do. Because, as you know, there's no way we're leaving without a fight. We couldn't."

"Or you can't go against what Daddy says," Dream said bitterly, and Techno's eyes twitched, "While that does sound tempting, I'm afraid I'm going to have to refuse," he met Techno's eyes and grinned, "Because I'm not afraid to fight to what is right."

Dream stepped back, then he put his fingers in his mouth and let out a loud, ringing whistle. Nothing happened for a moment, and Techno narrowed his eyes in confusion. He went to break a smile, but then, there was movement in the trees.

Suddenly, less than a dozen dragons flew out of the bushes, roaring loudly and heading straight above the boats. They all had riders. Most of them started to let out flames, various colours and heats heading straight for the hull of the ships. One headed for Techno, but he cast his cloak over his head, the scales taking in all the fire. When he looked up at who had done it, all he saw was a Triple Stryke. It didn't take much to work out who the rider was sitting on its back, their head turned to look at him.

Techno roared in anger as they started doing more damage than needed. When he looked back at Dream, he saw the man running to the bushes, jumping into the air just as a Light Fury appeared in the air, its scales becoming visible and the man grabbing onto it as they went vertical into the air. Techno growled, running back to his ship and jumping aboard it.

His men were shouting, looking at the dragons with fear, though some were starting to shoot. Techno stomped around the ship, screaming orders to anyone who could bother to hear them.

"AIM ALL FIRE AT THE DRAGONS! SPLIT THE SHIPS TO THE EAST AND WEST SIDES AND ATTACK FROM THE BACK! KILL ANY DRAGON ON LAND, AND SHOOT DOWN ANY IN THE SKY! KILL ALL RIDERS APART FROM THE TRIPLE STRYKE! DEPORT AT THE WESTERN AND EASTERN SIDES AND KILL ANYTHING THAT STANDS IN YOUR WAY!" Techno shouted, his face blazing red.

A Sandbuster came to fire its blaze at the boat he stood on, turning solid as it came into contact with the surface of the boat, Techno move to grab a crossbow from someone's hands and shot at it. It dodged just barely, and the rider grabbed it in his hand. He looked directly at Techno before snapping it in half and seemingly glaring at him.

Techno put the crossbow on his back, shoving someone out of his way and moving over to Philza.

"Make sure the troops do what they're supposed to," he snapped, "I'll be on mainland, so don't try and follow me."

"You're going after them yourself? Philza asked.

"Obviously." Techno said simply, and with that he needn't say more, turning away, placing his mask over his face. The dragons were doing damage to the ships, but the ships were also doing a lot of firing as well: nets, arrows and catapults heading their way. Many were also turning away at Techno's orders, heading to the back of the island.

The strange thing was, Techno had only counted seven dragons in the sky, when there were supposed to be ten.

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As Tommy had watched Dream—as they all hid in the trees—he had fought the man was mad, simply standing there when he could be shot dead five different times. When Technoblade had stood opposing him, his thoughts about his stupidity had risen significantly. But when it appeared the two were not attacking each other (or Technoblade attacking Dream) then he wondered if something was actually going to happen or not.

The rest of them were all hidden silently in the trees, anxiously anticipating what would happen. Ranboo sat on Spins with Tubbo, his own two dragons not big enough to ride. He did have wings on his own suit, but they weren't enough to keep him up the whole battle. Niki was somewhere else on the island, having said she had a strategy and a plan, but it was needed on the back of the island in case anyone came trying to be sneaky. Karl was still looking for Kinoko, and Tommy couldn't wait to see what happened when he arrived to join in.

Then, Dream had whistled, and then they knew what his signal was. Tommy gave Mellohi a pat and then, they all sprang from the undergrowth and into the open sky. Tommy had never felt his heart beat more than when he was above those boats, all those faces looking up at him with fright and anger.

Mellohi was quite quick, turning at angles Tommy had never known existed and when Tommy called out, he let out a long stream of fire along the side of one of the ships, his tails rattling at the excitement. Wilbur and Tubbo weren't doing too bad either, with Symphony covering boats in amber and Spins slicing through parts of the boats with his tail (with Chest and Pearl letting out sneezes of flames to try and help out).

It was then that Tommy properly looked at the soldiers on the boats, those scrambling for a weapon or a way onto the land, as other boats turned to the east and west to dock around the back of the island (just as Niki had hoped). He saw who they were, or at least those crowded together at the back of a boat.

Tommy saw the same faces he had seen looking back at him though windows long ago. Philza had sent children to war.

His face contorted in anger, and as Mellohi went to fire, he placed his hand on the dragon's head and shook his own, the flames going back down his throat. Tommy pulled up towards the clouds, seeing Technoblade stare up at him before darting off into the island. Wilbur flew past him, stopping nearby as Tommy called his name.

"We can't attack those guys!" he shouted, "There're kids on those boats, some no older than me!"

"We can't just stop, Tommy!" Wilbur shouted, suddenly moving to avoid a lone arrow heading their way, "There's nothing we can do other than fight! That's the whole point of any of this!"

"Just tell Dream to at least avoid them!" he shouted, turning away and looking towards where Technoblade had run to, "I need to go after Technoblade and make sure he doesn't do anything in the walls!"

Wilbur just stared at him, nodding before turning away to fly back down towards the boats. Seven had gone on each side, with six staying in the middle to fight the riders above. Quackity and Nevadas were flying above one, the Sandbuster shooting his flares towards the ship, which turned solid and hit someone on the back. Tommy winced before giving Mellohi a pat, who looked up at him, growling.

"It's just me and you, mate," Tommy said, before pulling them away towards the island, "Let's go get this son of a bitch."

----------------------------------------------------

Niki saw them all coming, of course.

She stood on a hill, two long sword in her hands and her hair whipping in the wind, her mask on her belt. The ships came to the west, hundreds of soldiers heading her way. It was just them, her and a few hundred dragons.

Zuko was hidden in the water, among other water-dragons, and looked up at her nervously. Niki took a deep breath, feeling the wind against her face, before nodding at him and brandishing her swords.

When the ships docked, hundreds of them all ran out, so many weapons in their possession. Swords, crossbows, cannons, arrows, spears, shields, nets. Most of them looked too scared to be a soldier. Some of them saw her, and some of them laughed.

It only took Niki to draw her sword to realise she was the only woman on the battlefield. Only men cloaked in heavy, clinking armour, grim expressions on their faces, standing motionless and desperate. Niki grinned dryly and spat to the ground as she ran down the hill, sliding all the way down.

"To Valhalla or nothing," she snarled, and as the soldier's laughed at Niki as she came alone to fight them, she only attacked more ferociously. They didn't expect it, and as Zuko and so many other aquatic dragons leapt and fought from the water, they didn't expect that either.

The soldiers didn't see them coming, of course.

---------------------------------------------------

It wasn't hard for Tommy to find Technoblade.

The man stuck out like a sore thumb, especially in a forest. Not only from his appearance, but also the noise he made as he trudged through the undergrowth. Tommy saw him from the sky, pulling down slightly but high enough so that he didn't see him. He wasn't past the Sentinel gate (the Sentinels weren't even active yet) and he wasn't with anyone else. Tommy took his shield from his back and wrapped it around his arm, gritting his teeth and heading down.

"TECHNOBLADE!" Tommy shouted, getting the man's attention as he whipped his head around and looked up. Mellohi roared, spinning around a few times before landing directly in front of the man. They stood, opposed and quiet—although Mellohi's rattling tail filled the silence. Tommy wondered if he should get off Mellohi, but looking down at Technoblade's weapon supply, he decided he would rather have the high ground. He took off his helmet, shaking his head to fix his hair, which was covered in tiny braids that barely dangled an inch.

"Here I was going out of my way to try and find you, and yet you're the one who came to me instead," Technoblade said sharply, twisting his sword around his fingers aimlessly.

"I'm not afraid of you, Techno," Tommy said, going so far as to call him his nickname, "You can still stand down here and now, while no one had got killed or been fighting for very long. Make an easy and good decision for once in your fucking life."

"Despite your profanities, nothing you say is going to change my mind," Technoblade said, and as Tommy rolled his head in annoyance he smashed his sword against the round in irritation, "I did not spend days planning for this battle, preparing my troops and burning my hatred for weeks just for you to be left peacefully and without judgement! Do you think you'll make the history books, Tommy!"

Tommy clenched his fists, meeting his eyes with pure fury.

"You're troops are composed of untrained children," Tommy snapped, never lowering his gaze, "Those who have never even looked at a sword, not so much as used one. That's just...that's beyond evil."

"In the grand calculus of a war, there sacrifices are worth infinitely more than their lives ever would," Technoblade said simply, his expression not gleeful nor angry. Just dull, like that was a normal thing to say. Tommy grimaced and shook his head.

"You're not right, man; you're barely human! You have no emotions, nor remorse, no care for anything! No care for when people lose other people, or...or if your own men die in front of you, like they're your mindless slaves instead of actual people who trusted you!" Tommy shouted, his rage boiling over to the point where he didn't care if his enemy heard every bad thing he thought of him, "You don't even care about the fact that your actions might just kill your own brother."

"You think you're the only person to have lost things Tommy!" Technoblade shouted with anger and Tommy flinched. He had never been one to shout, or even raise his voice to a line where his emotions might slip in. Technoblade's face looked contorted with anger, but also sorrow, "I did what I had to do to survive, and whatever that took to do it I was forced to do! Whoever likes my decisions are not my problem, only those who actively get in my way."

Technoblade moved quickly, pulling his crossbow off of his back and aiming it at Tommy, who could barely react as it moved towards him. The key word was 'barely'. He held up his shield, whacking the arrow away, and Mellohi roared. He unwound his tails, throwing each of them towards to Technoblade, he staggered back to avoid them. He grunted, and as he went o reload his crossbow, an ear shattering roar filled the valley.

The ground rumbled, the trees shaking and they looked around. Mellohi took the opportune time to lunge forward and knock Technoblade over with all of his tails combined, then take off into the sky. Tommy looked around for the culprit of the roar, but when he looked behind him, his eyes grew wide and his smile grew immensely. Behind the gate, behind any of the ships, a whole horde of dragons were coming to join the battle. And leading them was a Crimson Goregutter, with a man standing on its head.

Karl held out a staff pointing directly forwards towards the ships, and all the dragons followed. And Thor, there were so many dragons. Zipplebacks, Nadders, Rumblehorns, Timberjacks, Changewings, Singetails, Whispering Deaths, Snifflehunches, Thunderclaws, Snaptrappers, a few Stormcutters, Thunderdrums, Windgnashers, Threadtails, Fireworms, Terrible Terrors, Razorwhips, Grapple Grounders, Seashockers, Scauldrons, Catastrophic Quakens, Monstrous Nightmares.

Nearly all species that Tommy knew, maybe more. And even though he wore a mask, Tommy knew he was smiling underneath it. When they passed the gate, the Sentinels awoke and as Kinoko let out an ear-splitting call, they roared and moved stiffly to join the fight. After that, all Niflheim broke loose.

The horde of dragons attacked the boats and the soldiers that fought on them. Some men tried to fight, some shooting at them, some succeeding. Other than that, their boats burned, their weapons broke and their bodies were attacked. Tommy laughed as he watched them attack; all these dragon who had been hurt by selfish humans fighting back against them. Mellohi roared, and as Tommy felt a shadow form over him, he turned and saw Karl approaching him.

Technoblade watched the events taking place around him in horror, grimacing before rushing back to fight. The land from the gate to the sea was quite large, so it had now been turned into a battlefield. He hesitated, but then he looked at Kinoko and growled, turning away. Tommy smiled and turned to look at Karl, who was using his staff to climb down the large dragon and make his way to Tommy.

"That was quite an entrance!" Tommy called, pushing up his helmet up and grinning wildly at Karl, who did the same.

"Though I might as well!" Karl shouted over all the noise and looked around, "Seems it was worth it. Now, we've got everyone, and there's no holding back! Especially with this big lad!" he said and rubbed Kinoko on the side, who growled loudly as he tried to maintain balance in the air, "Guess we better go assist. Take care of yourself Tommy!"

Karl climbed back up, giving Kinoko a small pat with his foot and they took off towards the fleet of ships. It only took a moment before there was the loud screaming of men as Kinoko rammed into the mast of a ship, which went crashing down onto one of the boats. People began jumping off them into the water, which didn't help with all the aquatic dragons in there.

Tommy grinned at the commotion, then gave Mellohi a pat before taking back off to the sea to join the fight.

------------------------------------------------

When Niki saw the horde of dragons coming towards them, all she could do was grin as she slid her sword through someone's chest.

Though soldiers were still coming towards her, they were distracted as dragons came flyin towards them—spitting fly and slicing with their claws. Many got picked up and thrown away by them, and many started to run. Others just stood and watched, some even trying to attack them.

Niki rushed forwards, kicking someone directly in the chest as they ran forward and slicing another one through the throat, blood splattering across her suit. Just as another one ran forwards, she grabbed his wrist and threw him against the floor, just about to go in for the kill when she saw his face.

He was a kid. Clad in iron armour, a spear in his hand and scared to death, but still a kid. Niki staggered back, letting go of his wrist and throwing him to one side, then pushing up her mask so he could see that she wasn't just a monster in scales.

"Get out of here kid," she called out, narrowing her eyes as he gawped, "Before something worse than me tries to kill you."

The boy nodded just barely, staggering away before darting off towards the trees. Maybe not the safest place to go, but there wasn't really anywhere else.

Niki looked around, at the battlefield barely covered in warlords and whistled, Zuko's head popping out from the water. Niki ran over to him, getting atop his neck as he lowered it and patted his muzzle gently.

"Let's go see what the others are up to," she said, and they took off towards the fight, other dragons following swiftly behind.

-----------------------------------------------------

When Wilbur saw the horde of dragons, led by one even bigger, he was quite surprised to say the least. It wasn't something he expected, although it should be since in the last five days he had left his home, come to an island of dragons, tamed a dragon, rode her and then started fighting in a battle. But still, shocking.

Tubbo and Ranboo were nearby, faces of equal shock, and as Wilbur flew over to them, they looked around, dodging an arrow before turning to him.

"That's one big dragon!" Tubbo said loudly, Ranboo nodding in the backseat.

"Guess that's the one Karl was on about!" Wilbur shouted, looking around at the boats, who were fighting off the new horde. He caught sight of Tommy near the large crimson dragon, then as it flew towards a boat, Tommy flew towards the fight too, but not near Wilbur or Tubbo, much to Wilbur's own dismay.

"Least we finally have some muscle!" Tubbo shouted, "I mean, Sapnap's alright—has plenty strong arms—but it's not like he's gonna take out a ship by himself."

Wilbur nodded, not really listening as he watched the encore of bloodshed. He hadn't really thought about it until now, but he could see the bodies lined in the sand, the way their arms twisted out to grasp their freedom, their legs buckled beneath them. It made him feel even worse when he saw the kids Tommy had mentioned. Poor buggers.

Maybe it was his distracted state, or maybe that he wasn't looking in the right direction at the right time, but Wilbur did not see the large arrows fired from a ballista on the boat behind him. He did not see it pass through the air, and he did not see it fly directly towards him. Tubbo did.

His eyes went wide, and as the arrow flew he found himself fixated on it as it flew towards them. Trapped in a frozen state of observation. That was...before Tubbo suddenly snapped out of his daze and shot forwards in the sky, directly towards Wilbur. He reached out his hands towards him and cried out, pushing Spins forward and Ranboo flying forwards into his back.

"Wilbur!" he shouted, slamming into the giant Death Song and pushed her and her rider away just as the arrow came towards them. Symphony cried out in shock, her roar sounding like a bad note and Wilbur flew forwards into the back of her. They spun through the air for a moment, Wilbur's shouts echoing before he pulled up and looked back at Tubbo, almost in confusion before he saw the arrow fall towards the sea. His eyes went wide and he went pale.

"Thanks!" he called out, staring at Tubbo with a thankful expression, "I owe you that one!" Tubbo nodded once, giving him a small smile.

"Don't mention it," he said, then craned his head and sighed as he stared down at a ship, "Well, no shit that happened. Look who's manning the decks."

Wilbur turned, and as he looked down at the largest boat, he saw a man staring up at him, his blue eyes piercing Wilbur's and a scowl so nasty on his face you might have thought he was having chest pains. Philza stared up at Wilbur angrily, like his shot had been the only one he truly wanted to hit. Wilbur stared down at Phil, and as he did he almost felt pity for the thing he had become, and wondered why he had had to be his father. It never seemed like they were father and son—didn't share the bond others did, even those not blood related—and he couldn't recall a memory that didn't end in misery. There might be a few, somewhere, buried deep under all that anguish, but for now he remembered none, so it barely hurt him at Tubbo's next few words.

"That stupid little prick! Ranboo; get me those bombs," he snapped, looking back at the mute who was suddenly scrambling around in a small satchel he wore around his waist. Wilbur watched as he pulled out five round metal balls, which he presumed were the 'bombs'. They were shaped like an hourglass, with two main ports and a tunnel into them, presumably holding something Wilbur didn't know what. Tubbo grinned as he was given them, holding them like a newborn baby and threw one to Wilbur, who caught it carefully and wondered why in Thor's name he wasn't handling them carefully.

"Follow my lead if you want payback!" Tubbo called, grinning slyly, "Or if you want a good show. Press the button on the top just before you throw them."

With that he flew off towards the ship, hands on the side of Spins' head and Ranboo's hand on his shoulder, the other holding the two bombs. Wilbur looked at it for a moment before following them, giving Symphony a gentle pat as he steered her with her horns. They soared past the side of the ships, just above the water and so close that people started to shout and change the directions of their aim. They flew up past the sail, they Wilbur saw Tubbo smile and shake the bomb in his hand.

"LIGHT EM UP!" he yelled, clicking the button and throwing them quickly, with Ranboo doing the same. Wilbur copied, clicking the button and throwing his, then flying away quickly. He turned his head just to see a dark green gas envelope the ship, then as it turned into a beautiful and destructive explosion, blasting into the ship and sending people flying.

"WOOOOO!" Tubbo yelled, clapping his hands as he turned back suddenly, "YEAH!" Wilbur grinned and the two Terrible Terrors flapped around madly in the sky. He looked back down at the ship to see it breaking at the centre, the two sides splitting apart and facing up like cracked glass. People were fleeing and falling into the ocean, with Philza included. He fell off of the side of the ship, plunging below the surface of the water before rising back up and grappling atop a piece of floating wood. He looked around for a moment before staring back up at Wilbur with pure disgust and hate.

This time, Wilbur did not feel any pity when looked at him. He felt only annoyance that such a man was in his memory, and a bit of amusement for the way he was bobbing in the sea, totally abandoned and unprotected, taken down by three kids on two dragons. Instead of feeling pity, Wilbur grinned down at the man and stuck up his middle finger right out in front of him in defiance, which only made him glare even more.

"That'll teach that sorry bastard," Tubbo scoffed, looking down at him with spite. He then changed focus and tilted his head towards the beach, "Looks like there's still one left."

Wilbur turned and looked down at the beach, there seeming to be more bodies than before. Amidst the chaos stood Technoblade, still fully clad in his armour but also the blood of others, whether they be dragons or his own men. Wilbur didn't want to know how it was there. The skull he bore as a mask was over his face, but he didn't need to see his face to know what he was thinking, especially when he turned to face the forest—the place away from anyone else and deeper into the heart of the island—and suddenly strode into it, not casting a single look behind him. Tommy was somewhere else in the sky, so he didn't see Techno go, but Wilbur did, and it seemed he was the only one. He took in a breath and turned to face Tubbo.

"I'll deal with him," he said gruffly, "If things go south, start coming. And not like that."

"How will we know?" Tubbo said with a trace of a smile on his lips.

"Give it about twenty minutes," Wilbur said with a smile, "I can probably get him riled up in less than that. Get Tommy after that, actually. I have a feeling those two need a dramatic moment."

Tubbo nodded and turned away, flying off to go and blow something else up, presumably. Wilbur pulled down his mask and sighed, patting Symphony on the side, who gave him a low rumble and a glance. Wilbur, still standing, gripped her horns and flew towards the forest, his heart pounding in his ears and the idea of an intelligent quip he was yet to come up with circling around his head.

It didn't take him long to meet the forest—for it wasn't a very large island—and it took him nearly as less to find Technoblade, with him clearly sticking out from the dense green foliage and trees. He was walking very quickly towards the centre, but what confused Wilbur was that he wasn't heading towards the gate; he was headed towards the back of the island. He let him go for a bit, to see what he would do, and after he was at the north beach, he decided he was close enough.

"TECHNO!" he shouted, making the man stop and look up as Wilbur circled above him; both of their faces masked but their feelings towards each other clear. That was...if Techno knew who he was? Wilbur narrowed his eyes and circled Techno from the sky like a vulture, looking around before he gave Symphony a pat and went down towards the ground. As they landed, Technoblade never took his eyes off of Wilbur, which was reciprocated back just the same.

Wilbur took a breath, his eyes closed for a moment (not that Techno could see) and proceeded to make his way down from Symphony, but slowly. When his feet landed in the land and he walked out in front of her, she made a small noise of distress. Wilbur turned to her, giving her a pat on the muzzle and whispered to her that he would be alright. Which, if he was being honest, he didn't fully believe. Wilbur turned away, ignoring the expression on his dragon's face and faced Techno.

He moved his hands to remove his helmet, shaking his head to remove his hair and placing the mask under his arm. Technoblade did the same, the skull of a dragon long-dead clasped in his grip. He gritted his teeth in irritation as he looked at Wilbur, and if he didn't know him before he certainly did now. Symphony growled lowly at him, crouching down her head and flaring her wings like an irritated insect. Techno eyed her for a moment before staring back at Wilbur. Silence stood between them.

Wilbur—doing all things no normal person would consider that day—grinned wickedly and threw his helmet to the ground, it sticking up out of the boundless sand and facing away from him; hollow eyes etched in scales.

"Hello, Techno," he said simply, grinning slyly with full confidence, "Have you missed me?"

(That was all a ploy. Wilbur had never felt more scared in his life, even if the man before him was his twin. That man stared at Wilbur quietly, and then that man dropped his own façade into the sand and released his sword from its hold in his belt, the slice of the air so loud it burst through Wilbur's ears even without making a single sound. It smirked and leered more than Techno did, and that wasn't the half of his terror.

The true fear was knowing he might not leave without a few slashes—wherever they may be.)

Chapter Text

Both of their helmets were cast into the sand; one of dragon bone and the other dragon scales.

The two men had nothing to hide other than their feelings of one another, and they were as thrown into the air of their helmets. Two sons of a chief born from the same time; identical in a way, yet so different. One was destined to rule, while the other was destined to be a shadow. The only thing that had changed was that the one who was supposed to rule had got out of that job, and ultimately got off with the better one while Wilbur was still the shadow, even if he was the heir.

"Have you missed me?"

Wilbur had said it with such an air of confidence that he thought Technoblade might believe him, but then the man himself pulled his face into a nasty smile, and Wilbur's shoulders might have sagged if he wasn't forcing them to stay to keep on playing his game of cat and mouse, only he was a mouse with thicker skin and an ability to be a perfect gamemaster. His hands moved toward the dagger in his belt, just in case he even had to use it—like his words would ever fail to leave someone under the impression of a loss.

However, Technoblade began to chuckle, which was a sound that sounded eviler than the cackling of hyenas and a sound that taunted Wilbur to his own loss. He still wondered, though, what Techno's opening line would be.

"If missed is defined as wishing you around to slit your throat, then I guess you would be correct," Technoblade said with spite, starting to move forward. Wilbur walked to the side, and in the end they were circling one another slowly, like two agonistic mice, only these two mice would do a lot more damage than the average field mouse, because instead of being mice they were two fully grown men with blades.

"Really?" Wilbur questioned, pulling the strings of his face into one of a condensing nature, "Is that it? I thought your description would be a bit more bloody and sickening. A lot more vehement, being you, cause there's nothing else I'd consider you about. Also, that wasn't a very good opening line. Needed to be bolder, more intimidating for someone like you."

"What, and yours was a good one? My opinion differs on that aspect," Techno said snarkily and Wilbur grinned at him like a jester, his tongue between his teeth almost like a viper—and he too could add poison to his words.

"It usually does when it's yours. But then again, it's still usually one that is sloppy and lacking any true value, which is why I don't take it to heart. Almost like your imbecilic insults. Oh-Ho, looks at us banter again. You might almost think we were brothers, not one normal, possibly handsome man facing off against a more-than-slightly paranoid war general."

Techno chuckled, shaking his head and looking at Wilbur like he was a child who knew so little, yet insisted on saying so much. Wilbur felt the cracks in his façade start to crumble.

"Do you truly think so little of me?" Techno then asked, not with any true care that his twin might just have any care left for him, but to see if he had any remaining weakness left in him; anything he could target and attack.

"Techno..." Wilbur started, sighing and shaking his head as he stared down at his feet, "...Techno I thought the world of you. We were so close for so long, and I thought we were going to stay side-by-side forever, but at the end of the day you're you and I'm me and, y'know, maybe there's still a bit of any sort of good left in you trying to get out, but let's be honest; our paths diverged a long time ago, even before I ever realised what had become of you. They did that as soon as you became Father's little war pet. You left all of us behind; our friends and me. You chose your path, and now I have chosen mine."

"A traitor," Technoblade snapped, the grip on his sword growing tenser, "You chose to become a traitor. You chose to follow a random, dangerous, stupid boy who you grew an attachment to like a puppy, rather than stay with your own family. Rather than fight with your own family—"

"WHAT FAMILY?!" Wilbur shouted, taking a dangerous step forwards and Techno's hand moved to sword in defence of himself, "We have never been a family, Techno; there's never been one to begin with! There has only ever been a man who thinks he has enough power to control everyone, his little violent monster and his one mistake he could never get rid of. And, just in case, don't forget to add his dead wife to the deal," Technoblade snarled and Wilbur glared with a dark and fiery passion; daring to say anything to make Techno feel as shit as he felt every single day of his life.

"The only moments when we were a family were when we were too small to think, and after that it became more of a partnership," he continued, taking another step forward and pushing Techno back, "If we were family, we wouldn't be out to destroy and kill each other, and if we were a family, I would feel guilt about 'betraying' you, as you call it. You can call me what you like, Techno, but I really won't care unless those words are the ones stabbing me in the back. But despite all that, Techno, we still could've been brothers. We could've been close, stuck together, shared some sort of fucking bond siblings are supposed to have. We could've have been fighting on the same side, but you sided with the wrong man because you were too scared about your reputation. You're just......YOU'RE SO SELFISH!"

"SELFISH?" Techno roared, stopping in his tracks and glaring at Wilbur, mouth hanging agape in utter annoyance. His hands crackled against the sword he held, it shaking around violently and unable to stay still. Wilbur could not even smile as the general's emotions started to drip out like a broken pipeline, "I am the one that has been STUCK, being perfect for my whole entire life, and all you have ever done for me is MESS IT UP!"

"Oh fuck off! It's not at all bad for you! You're still the favourite, the soldier, the firstborn, greatness in every pitch fucking perfect way! You can still live your life as the perfect son and never have to think about me again!"

"I never wanted to be the favourite, or a soldier, or even a perfect son! I WAS DOING IT ALL FOR YOU!" Techno screamed, plunging his sword straight into the sand, falling forward onto one knee and glaring up at Wilbur.

Then he understood what he was doing He wanted to attack something, but he didn't want it to be Wilbur. Yet. Still, Wilbur's face softened and then his eyes narrowed in confusion, staggering back as he realised what Techno had proclaimed.

"W-what?" he asked quietly, but Technoblade was still talking, even if he was bent on one knee in the sand, his gaze averted to the floor because meeting Wilbur's eyes with pain, fear and sadness.

"I did it all to protect you! Cause I knew if I didn't rise up and take that burdened role Phil was starting to make us fit into, it would just get passes onto you instead! Because Philza was not—is not—a good man, because he was so stricken by grief for his wife he forgot about his children, and he forgot how to be a father. He would've died before he let us live peacefully, and live without following his plans. I know what he's like, and even though we're here like this...I don't follow him. Not as a leader, and not as one I respect. But I did everything I had to to make sure you didn't have to live that way—the way I did! Alone, broken and always covered in someone else's blood. So much and so often that you become infatuated with the smell of it. I thought if you were left alone—away from me all those times you tried to see me—you might be happier. If I was always away, you might forget about me and live better off without me. But I still ended up failing, because despite all my strength and courage and hand to kill, I still wasn't strong enough to hold one dammed title, so it fell its way down to you instead, because you were the backup option. And I beat myself up for it everyday Wilbur. Because I failed in protecting you, just like I failed in being your brother. I always have. So now—" Techno stood up, throwing his cloak behind his back and ripping his sword out of the ground, brandishing it in front of him, "—I'm not going to try and protect you anymore. I'm going to try and destroy you. Not for Philza or L'Manberg, but for me. I know I might be a bit messed up. I know I don't have a conscious to fill the void in my head. But in my mind, I have to do this."

Wilbur stood, mouth agape, as he took in every single word his brother had just said, as he stared at him with wide eyes and a sighing chest. He took in the meaning of them and realised what he had said perfectly. What he had been and thought like all these years and tried to do for Wilbur, even if he was a bloodthirsty psycho out to kill them. Technoblade stood with his sword aimed directly out, and even after his outburst of emotion and realisation, he still wanted to fight.

That was just it. Even if he had told Wilbur the truth, his mind was programmed with one purpose now; destroy them and their dragons. He wouldn't change—he COULDN'T change. And—really—that wasn't his fault. Wilbur sighed and held his hands up in the air, almost as an act of surrender.

"Okay, okay I get it. You can't get out here without a fight. You can't change because you've been stuck like that for so long its basically built into your head like an assassin. You cant damage your pretty little ego. I understand. You want a fight?" he asked, taking a moment to gulp from nerves before continuing, "Then you can get one. But no swords. Sword fights are for children. Real soldiers can fight with their fists."

They stood silently for a moment—just another time in their lives when the two were destined to be opposed—before Techno grunted a laugh and dropped his sword into the sand, smiling down at Wilbur. They were only a few feet apart. Symphony remained sat behind them, growing evermore worried and shifting on her claws, wanting to help Wilbur but not wanting to go back on what he had told her. She was stuck, in reality.

"Alright. Who cares about a few loose terms?" Technoblade said, standing up straight and cracking his knuckles, which was quite loud. He seemed even taller when he was fully vertical, "I could beat you any day of the weak, Wilbur. I remember it being me doing all the fighting on L'Manberg.

Wilbur gritted his teeth, "But I was the one who held you back."

"Indeed, but I'm afraid that is where you strength ends, brother."

"We'll see. I've grown up since those street scuffles, Techno."

Techno smiled grimly, and as they both stepped forward, their fists came out, turned square and hard and knuckled, and when Wilbur moved to throw the first blow, he already had a vision of how this would end.

He hoped his friends would remember him fondly.

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Tommy could strongly say the world around him was full of commotion and chaos, and this time it was physically on fire.

Most of the ships were either destroyed or abandoned, with bodies that were various levels of alive floating around the ocean and staining the beaches. A few were still putting up a fight, but most had either been taken over or surrendered, knowing that their fight could only go on for so long without them dying, and most were too cowardly to die in battle. Showed where most of the bravery on L'Manberg had gone.

The last time Tommy had seen Philza, he had been abandoned in the ocean (after being hilariously bombed, which Tommy still couldn't get over) like a glass bottle miles away from any island, but when he looked again, he was gone. Tommy wondered if his wretched body had finally sunk to the bottom of the wide blue ocean, releasing the world of anymore anguish and ridding it of his existence, but then he remembered the gods wouldn't be that kind to them, and any hope he had was just about as sought out as the last remaining grains of sand in an hourglass. Wherever the man was, it probably wasn't anywhere good for anyone else.

Dream and George were closer to the ground than Tommy was; intimidating the soldiers with their wings and claws—with their dragons, that was—and ordering them around like they were now prisoners of war, which they might be if this battle wasn't over as soon as the last man of their side gave up. And since Tommy knew the man in question, that might be a task easier said then done. Himself spotted Sapnap—being the pyromaniac he was—setting alight to more ships, and Blaze was also doing some too.

Just as he thought about where the two named Tubbo and Ranboo were, Tommy spotted them riding the metallic dragon choosing directly towards him, and he turned to the side as they stopped next to him, grinning as he gestured to the commotion below them.

"Quite a show you put on back there!" he shouted over the wind, and then he saw the sight of Tubbo honestly smiling, which might've been the most shocking thing he's seen all day (which included a fleet of ships coming to kill them, Technoblade coming to kill him, Philza coming to kill him, a giant Crimson Goregutter leading a horde of dragons, a whole fucking war take place on his island, ships fall to ruin before his very eyes, people dying in front of him, bombs and arson).

"Well, if we're fighting a whole battalion, I might as well make an impression," Tubbo said, grinning slyly and looking down at all he destruction. He almost seemed to revel in it, like a craftsman to his final piece.

"You might've thought you liked destroying things more than making them. Almost like you're not a smith at all."

"Well, if you want to be able to make things, you have to break a few things along the way," Tubbo said, looking back at Ranboo, who only smiled back in return, "Also, these suits are getting awfully uncomfortable and heavy. Can't I, like, take it off now? It's not like I'm gonna get hit down or anything; most of them are through with fighting."

"That's a stupid fucking suggestion," Tommy snapped, and Tubbo pouted; waving his arms around like a child that doesn't understand why they're being punished. Tommy only continued, "A soldier doesn't take his armour off in battle, even if it near the end, for you never know when an arrow might finally fall from the sky. It's probably cause yours is metal and not normal scales like ours."

"First of all, how dare you," Tubbo said, waggling his finger, "Wise advice isn't something you should spit. Second of all, that's totally not fair. Spins is a dragon, and as a dragon he should have normal scales, not metallic," he moved his head down to the Razorwhip's eye level, "This is your fault."

Spins grunted, giving Tubbo a sharp gaze, and maybe if he had been a spiteful dragon he might've chucked Tubbo off the top of him, but since the boy had been nothing but kind to him he let it slide.

"Oh, Wilbur wanted me to give you a message," Tubbo said, his eyes wide from his remembrance, "He said for you to meet him in the woods after twenty minutes or so. He went after The Blade, ya see."

"Alone?!" Tommy cried, smacking his hand against his face and dragging it down, "For Thor's sake; he's gonna get himself killed! Either by Technoblade or by me when I go find him. Prick."

"In his defence, he did tell us to come," Tubbo said, shaking his head when Tommy's face broke into a smile, "And not like that. Well, he said 'us', but then he changed it to just specifically you, something about dramatic moments. But really, Tommy, I think he's gone to, you know...distract him. Get bust up and broken enough so he's distracted so you can get him, with whatever that takes to do it. Even—"

"I know, I know," Tommy bit his lip, "Gods—that guy has always got to be the hero, hasn't he? To Valhalla or nothing; no shit."

"What you gonna do?" Ranboo signed, finally drawing attention to himself.

"Probably something stupid," Tommy said, sighing before putting on a brave smirk, "He went to the back beaches, did he?"

"Yeah," Tubbo answered, and Tommy nodded slowly, turning away but Tubbo moved to be floating in front of him, pulling a worried face.

"What?" Tommy asked and Tubbo rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. Mellohi growled softly, looking up at Tommy with wide eyes and then Tubbo. If you didn't think about how the two dragons were keeping them in the sky, they would be entirely forgotten in a situation like this.

"I just—Nothing. Do what ever you have to, just; be safe," Tubbo said, and as Tommy watched his face turn from nervous to begging, he only wished he could dart across the skies to wrap his arms around him and tell him everything was fine, and that he would come back unscathed and fine and happy, that no one would have to get hurt ever again and they could just live their lives happily in a cottage in the woods surrounded by dragons—

But he couldn't. Because none of that would ever be true.

So instead, Tommy nodded. Because although it didn't say all of the words he was thinking and feeling, although it was nothing compared to what anyone wanted to be said, although it was just a small gesture; it somehow said the minimum of what needed to be said.

(I love you, and I will always love you until the end of time, because you are the thing that fills that time with hope and joy, and if I didn't have you I'd be lost.

No matter what I do, I'll only ever do it with the thought of you closely bound.)

And with that (and without any more touching sentiment to give out without it being nauseating) Tommy gave Mellohi a small pat before turning to fly towards the endless forest. He didn't want to immediately appear into the two men like an explosion and ruin anything Wilbur had progressed with, especially if the taller had a plan in mind; one that was good and able to work. That on its own was a miracle in the making.

Then, from the air, he saw the shape of something large and pink close to the ground, so his signalled for Mellohi to go into the grove, sticking close to the trees while making no noise. The two of them crept through, the only sound in the air the shouts from afar and the scraping of Mellohi's tails. Then, a large bush sat near the border of grass to sand, and showed directly the beach that the two men were presumably on. They stalked forwards, standing just behind the bush while hovered lower down.

Tommy could see through, and when he saw what was on the other side, his eyes widened and his heart started to flutter. The state of the man in front of him hurt him to look at, but for the sake of the plan—and the sake of their victory—he kept quiet.

For the sake of everyone he loved, Tommy kept quiet.

(But as long as he kept quiet, someone he loved would continue to be hurt)

----------------------------------------------

Wilbur was severely doubting challenging Technoblade to a battle, and he couldn't tell if it was because he was losing or because he was covered in his own blood.

His face was battered and red, with bruises that would soon come to colour and cuts and gashes on his forehead, his suit battered and whacked so much it might've fallen apart if it wasn't made of scales. That didn't even give him an advantage either. His left eye was battered and swollen from punches; his hair matted with sweat and blood. In fact, there was so much blood surrounding Wilbur that he feared the smell would be forever.

Wilbur sat on the ground, his knees up by his chest and his arms sticking up behind him, almost like he was sitting in a chair, though it was quite sandy. He rubbed his recently impacted jaw, rubbing his tongue over his teeth while staring up at Technoblade, whose knuckles were raw and bloody, his chest heaving with empty breath. Symphony sat by the bushes, curled over with her wings covering her face, maybe so she didn't have to see Wilbur get beat up the way he did.

His own cloak was abandoned in the sand, with only his white shirt visible. He was drenched in blood—saturating his hair and shirt—but it didn't seem to bother him, probably due to the fact that he had worn enough blood on himself to fill a whole room of people. of course, it wasn't his won blood, because he had not been touched a single bit, unlike his opposite. He glared down at Wilbur, who looked up at him with the sun still in his eyes.

"Do you yield?" Technoblade growled, disgust on his face as he looked down at him. Wilbur grunted, spitting blood into the sand and smiled up at him, which hurt as his face was a bloody and bruised mess, then slowly stood up, holding his right arm and shook his head tauntingly.

"I can do this all day," he sneered, goading Techno further, who growled and pulled back his fist once again to release a vigorous punch against his brother's face.

Wilbur's cheek was squashed back against the force, the smacking sound as they collided loud and their two grunts heavy, one of pain and one of force. Wilbur's head spun to the side and he recoiled back to the ground, the smacking sound as they collided loud and their two grunts heavy, one of pain and one of force. He groaned in pain, flat against the ground and curled over. Technoblade moved over and kicked his gut with his iron-clad boots, sprawling him across the floor even more.

"How long will you let this go on?" Techno cried out loudly, his eyes wide and kicking Wilbur again; this time with more force, "DO YOU HAVE NO SHAME FOR YOURSELF? FOR YOUR PRIDE? YOUR HONOUR?"

Wilbur snarled and moved his head up, looking up at Techno with tired, battered eyes. He didn't have the energy to let this continue, but he had to if he wanted everything to got right. To Valhalla or...

"How long will YOU let this go on?" he snapped, "How long will you keep doing this? You made your point Techno, I fucking heard you! But you still lied, because you're doing this for no one but him. YOU wouldn't want to hurt me, if you actually meant what you said. YOU would understand this is barbaric. What do you think you'll get if you do this for him? He doesn't care about you, Techno. He never has, and he never fucking will! That is something that will never fucking change; take it from me."

"Reasons towards despising you are valid. You're an impotent—" Technoblade pulled Wilbur up from the ground, his body sagging as it rose and Techno thrust his fist forwards as he punched him in the face, "—insufferable—" and again, "—pitiful—" and again, "—and futile little wretch!"

Techno punched him so hard this time that Wilbur was thrown back to the ground, the back of his head smacking against the sandy grains. He groaned and coughed loudly, his eyes barely open as he faced the sky. Technoblade glowered and circled around his body like a vulture; though it was his regular from to be a predator.

"You could never do anything good for anyone; not even yourself," Technoblade reached down and grasped Wilbur's chin, holding it up between one hand. So he could look at him in the eyes one last time, "Look at you. You've never won a fight in your life, and you've never had confrontation. Did you honestly think you could defeat me?"

Wilbur—who had been breathing gravelly those last few moments, his eyes lowered to the ground and face a painting of red—suddenly averted his eyes to Techno's and started to smile, then his smile transformed into a chuckle, one that grew louder each time he took a breath. Technoblade narrowed his eyes.

"Oh...I was never gonna try and defeat you, brother. i just needed...to distract you...for the longest time," Wilbur breathed, blood drooling out of his mouth and his face twisted into a wicked grin. He turned his head, looking straight at his dragon before reaching his hands up to whistle in his mouth. Symphony popped up her head, turning it slightly before looking up at the sky, standing on her rears and calling up into the sky, her call a melodic cry.

Techno frowned, letting go of Wilbur's chin and hearing the sound of his head crack against the ground, but that was the last thing on his mind. He stood in silence, the only moment the one of his ears as they curled for any noise there was to be heard. There was nothing, other than the background sound of a clicking, one that seemed to be closer every second it sounded, one that seemed more near than distant. Wait...

Technoblade's eyes widened, and the only thing he could do was move forward and throw his cloak over his shoulders, turning his head suddenly to see as he clashed with scales and strike. He felt the clawing at his cloak as the barb scratched down it, the force pushing into his side before he subsided. Techno threw it down, looking at the back of the cloak. It was scarred down the middle, a long gash as the scales were scratched off and it it had been an alive dragon, it would have had a scar down it. Techno growled and looked up to see the young insolent fly above him.

Tommy flipped up his helmet, showing his face and glowering down at Technoblade while standing up on the back of the beast, his shield in his left hand and his stance strong. Mellohi roared, circling around the two men on the ground while his tails shook to the sides. They would both be intimidating...if it wasn't that Technoblade would always be more so.

"THIS ENDS NOW!" Tommy bellowed, and as the flew directly forwards, Mellohi slammed into Techno, pushing him back across the beach and landing sprawled out on the ground, his cloak over his head,

Tommy was not fucking around this time.

Chapter Text

Tommy leapt from the back of the Triple Stryke, stretching out his arms to reveal the crafted wings that were stuck to them, gliding across the sly to go down to the harsh sandy beach and landing on his feet, running across the sand to reach his wounded friend.

Wilbur lay like a dead man, with his knees stuck up into his stomach and his arms over his head. Blood ran everywhere Tommy could see, and he prayed to every god he knew that he wasn't dead when he eventually got to his side, kneeling down beside him. He moved Wilbur's arms to see his eyes, which fluttered in and out of being closed, feeling his chest to feel his heart to find it still beating, just a bit slower than usual. Mellohi landed beside Tommy, growling softly as he looked at Wilbur, poking him with his snout.

"Wilbur?" Tommy hissed quickly, looking from him to Technoblade, who still hadn't yet moved, "Wil, can you hear me?"

The man stirred, eyes fluttering to consciousness and staring up at the sky, his hands twitching as he tried to act alive again.

"Mother?" he muttered, and Tommy's heart panged for him.

"No, but maybe someone better," he murmured, grabbing Wilbur as he hoisted him up against his side, wrapping his arm around his neck and getting him to move forwards towards the bushes. Thankfully, Mellohi also moved across for support, pushing Wilbur from behind with his snout.

"T-Tommy?" Wilbur whispered, moving his face and smearing blood across Tommy's helmet, "You...you shouldn't be here. Too...dangerous."

"You're the spitting image of that at the moment," Tommy snarled, his legs almost buckling under Wilbur's weight, "And you're certainly in no condition to keep on going. I'm here now, so I'll take care of it."

He walked the man over to Symphony, who called out worryingly as he approached and rubbed her snout against his chest, humming sadly. Wilbur leaned up against her—his hand swaying slowly across her side. He opened his eyes as he looked at her, then smiled slightly as Symphony sniffed him and acknowledged her friendlily. Tommy patted Symphony on the side, then she lowered down to the ground so he could place Wilbur on her back, making sure he was leaning against her horns.

"Take him back to the others," Tommy told the Death Song, patting her on the muzzle and staring straight into her eyes, "Make sure that he stays alive."

Symphony gazed at him right in the eyes for only a moment—maybe to see what he meant or what he felt or why he was so focused on making sure her rider was fine—but then she hummed, nodding her head before calling towards Mellohi, who growled back. Then, she took off from the ground slowly, keeping Wilbur on before flying away, back to the others, and leaving Tommy alone. With only a dragon and a danger in his presence—and they were not the same thing

Tommy turned back to look at where Technoblade had been stranded in the sand, and found he was standing up. He turned to face Mellohi, who was also looking at him, though he was growling. Tommy rubbed his side, and the Triple Stryke turned to face him.

"No more backing down now, Mellohi," Tommy said, facing his beloved companion and taking a deep breath, "It's me and you against the world. And today, that world is Technoblade."

Mellohi roared, spreading his wings and rattling his tails, his pupils growing thinner as he went more of what Tommy liked to think of as 'beast mode'. Tommy grinned with all his teeth and looked over his shoulder at Technoblade, who was now fully standing, though a little wobbly on the legs. He glared at Tommy with more evil and anger than one boy could ever imagine, and he started walking forwards. His mask was still sitting abandoned on the ground; the black gaping holes of the creature's eyes staring into Tommy's souls, of which it wished it was as black as itself. Tommy really fucking hated that mask. He couldn't wait to destroy it when he finally got the chance.

"I'll go straight for the middle—you stick to the sides. If he tries anything, you know what to do," Tommy said, giving Mellohi a nod, who reciprocated one back. He moved over to the side of the beach, stalking around with his wings flared and his tail hanging over his head.

Technoblade stood opposing them, his sword clenched in his hand and his cloak over one of his shoulders. It made Tommy want to smile when he thought about how he had ruined his precious robe—one of the things that made him stand out as a dragon hunter. It only made the other man angrier.

They met in the middle—Tommy with his shield and Techno with his sword—and they were only about six foot away from each other. Yet, Tommy could feel his fury as if he was standing right next to him.

"How many times am I going to have to deal with ignorant boys on dragons?" Technoblade hissed, his blood red eyes narrowing darkly as he looked at Tommy, "And how many times am I going to have to listen to you whine? 'Don't be evil Technoblade! Stop being mean Technoblade! You're corrupted Technoblade!' It's sickening to listen to. And to look at."

Tommy shook his head, looking towards the ground before meeting his eyes with equal disgust, "I'm done fucking around Techno. I'll give you one chance. One chance to back down, surrender to even just fucking realise how stupid you're being. One chance to pick the right pissing side and care about someone other than yourself. Or else I'll stop being pacifistic, and I will try to fucking kill you."

"Please," Technoblade barked a laugh, though he was still seething, "You could barely fight an ant and win. Even with your pathetic lizard—" Mellohi growled, "—you are nothing. But still, if you insist, I'll gladly confront you. Maybe the very thought of you will get out of my head once you're no longer moving."

"Aww, what's that matter; am I all you can think about?" Tommy asked mockingly, "I didn't think you were the type to become infatuated, Technoblade. I thought was left for your other half."

"You act amusingly. Wilbur is anything but my other half. He's not even a quarter; he's there to be a nuisance and annoy everyone around him. No wonder you sought ME out instead, though I can't say we'll have giggles and sunshine like you do with your other allies. Wilbur is weak."

"So you took care of him when you had the chance did you?" Tommy snapped, and the sound of clicking echoed behind him. Techno's eyes shifted to watch Mellohi, who bared his fangs at him.

"He asked for it. But he's not here now, and I don't care if he's down in Niflheim or bleeding out on a different beach. You're the only one here. Well, you and that thing," Techno gestured to Mellohi, "Which, really, is the source of all your problems. All you had to do was be a good little boy and stay away from the monsters. But you had to be different. You had to be the hero of your story and the main character of everyone elses. Oh—how ironic that the thing you thought would save your life would ultimately bring it to an end, Theseus."

"Don't FUCKING call me that!" Tommy shouted, his foot stamping forwards in frustration and snarling, "That's not my fucking name, and no matter how much of Greek-ist you are, it never will be. And this isn't just because we rode dragons, is it? You got scared. l look at you now, and you know what I see? I see a sad little man, who's so insecure about the fact that the people on his island got so far ahead of him in what they thought was right compared to him, and his only little glimpse of power in this world is gone, cause no one is scared of him anymore, and nobody cares if he lives or dies. I was scared,—when I was a little kid—and then I grew up and realised you only protected yourself with scales and rage, so I did the same and look at me! I have nothing to lose."

"You have a lot to lose, actually," Technoblade hissed, moving to circle Tommy, who imitated him by doing the same. Mellohi watched from the outside, still circling the both of them nearby—making them all look like vultures, "You have you 'friends'—all, what is it; nine of them now? All of them are morons—take it from me. You have your pathetic species of lizards who you care so much for. You have your, what is he, your 'father figure', I suppose, though he isn't a very good one. Better than mine, but equally sloppy. Brotherly love, eh?"

"What?" Tommy snapped, but Technoblade did not stop speaking.

"You have your intelligence, what without it you would be useless. You have your ego, which is far too large for someone so small. You have your pride, which is too fragile to be damaged, especially around the cool, rebellious dragon riders. And you have your life."

"And you have none yourself?" Tommy responded hastily, "You have a lot to lose, Techno, or else you wouldn't be wasting your time doing any of this, would you?"

"I lost what I had a long time ago," Techno said through gritted teeth, "I told you that you weren't the only one who has lost things Tommy."

"Oh boo-fucking-hoo; you lost your mother!" Tommy cried, "We hear about it every time we meet. I lost both of my parents, and I don't complain as much as you. I lost my home, my life, my family! You lost a bit of your honour and dignity. A few people didn't think you were as strong as you used to be, and you took that personally. A few people decided against what you thought was good, and you had to come after us because of it. You father manipulated you, so you let him pull your strings!"

Technoblade roared, running forwards to slash Tommy with his sword. Tommy held out his shield, the blade bouncing off of the metal and pushed it forwards, taking his arm away and punching Technoblade—and even though he was smaller he felt him grunt. Tommy grasped the shield in both hands and thrusted it forwards, whacking the side of it into Techno's gut. He grunted, and Tommy spun around, kicking his legs out into the same spot.

Techno recoiled backwards, his feet sliding across the sand and his hair whipping into his eyes. He growled, extending his sword out the furthest from his hand before running back at Tommy. Tommy moved to hold his shield in front of it, but he was too slow and Technoblade whacked it out of his hands, pushing Tommy down into the sand. He went to strike again, his blade leering down towards Tommy before the blow, but he was suddenly shoved to the side.

Mellohi roared loudly, shaking the valley and glaring down at Technoblade. He got up quickly, moving to strike the Stryke with his blade but unfortunately for him, this dragon was smarter than the many he had fought before. Mellohi snapped at Techno, pushing him back before unravelling his tails. One knocked over his legs, toppling the soldier over, one whacked the sword from his grasp to the ground and the other dug into his right arm, stabbing him quickly before coming back out. Technoblade roared in pain, his hand going to his arm as Mellohi also roared, dangling his tail over his head as an act of spite and taunt.

Smiling bitterly, Tommy got up and moved over to stand a few feet in front of Technoblade, who sat on his knees while groaning in pain. It made Tommy wonder if it was the first time he had ever felt it before. Technoblade glared up as Tommy as casted a shadow over the man, Mellohi close by his side. Just to add insult to injury, Tommy gave him a rub under the chin.

"You...you absolute bastard!" Technoblade hissed, and Tommy was shocked to hear him use profanity, even in such pain, "It feels like my blood is on fire."

"Don't over do it, you big pussy," Tommy sighed, "That's only one of Mellohi's venoms. Be lucky you're not so numb you can't move, or having hallucinations that make you feel sick. You act like you've never experienced pain."

"I tend to avoid it," Techno snarled, "And no one—EVER— gets a hit on me. Especially not some obnoxious, loathsome kid and his weird scorpion-shark-like dragon."

"Ouch; no need to be so harsh. Mellohi has feelings too y'know," Tommy said sarcastically and Technoblade glowered at him

"If I wasn't in agony right now, you'd be dead. Consider that a small break, and then I'll be back at it."

"No, you'll continue to whine and cry like a child, and it'll hurt every time you move or even talk. Instead, you consider this," Tommy said seriously, "You stop. You back down and realise what's happening. You're not doing any good by doing this; no one will think it was something that inflicted more good than bad. You're not going to change the world by showing it your rage, and you're never going to fix it either. Philza doesn't care, and even if you took my head and the head of every dragon and rider here, he still wouldn't care because it would never be enough. Nothing you do would be enough, cause you're his weapon—his threat. If someone does something he doesn't like, he can hang you over their heads to intimidate them. 'Oh, you want to attack us? I have Technoblade.' 'You want to cross to our land? Technoblade will be there to cut your heads like the grass of which you wish to cross.' 'You want to leave? Not with Technoblade here you won't.' You are nothing but a pawn in his game, when in your head you think you're the king. So—for the last time—you stop."

Technoblade stopped sighing and met Tommy's eyes with a leer. He moved to stand up, only getting to one knee as his face contorted into pain. He winced, opening one eye and looking back at them. Tommy took a step back, Mellohi growling and doing the opposite, though he was still a bit away from Tommy. The large man tried to move again, this time unsuccessful.

It was then that Techno paused for a moment—but only for a moment—and that was all he needed to take the crossbow from his back and raise it to the dragon's chest. Tommy could barely react before it was flying through the air, and he was unable to do anything but widen his eyes and move to leap in front of it.

"NOOOOOO!" Tommy cried, jumping to the side to block the arrow that was heading towards Mellohi, hoping his suit might block it or take it. He landed in the sand too short, so Tommy could only watch as it soared above him. The thing was, the scales on his suit were the same as the ones that covered Mellohi's entire body, so when it bounced off of the dragon's scales and clattered to the ground, the only way he reacted was pulling a face of annoyance before poking the arrow with his tail.

Both of the two men's faces dropped in confusion, and Tommy picked himself up off the ground, looking from Mellohi to Technoblade. The latter fell to the ground, his knee curving beneath him, though he didn't seem to notice as he was more involved by the alive animal he thought would be dead.

"How..." he started but was cut off by himself. Tommy moved over to the arrow, picking it up before snapping it in half, taking the arrowhead and lobbing it into the sea. He wiped his hands over one another, looking down at Techno, who still couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

"Well, that was over the top for nothing," Tommy said and Techno met his eyes, still mouthing a sentence he couldn't get out.

"How...Why—"

"I mean, it's just basic force and that," Tommy mumbled and Techno shook his head.

"No, not that," he snapped, "Why did you do that? Risk your life by sacrificing yourself for a...a dragon? Putting it's life before your own! It doesn't make any sense."

"It's because I have the one thing you never will, Techno," Tommy said and Technoblade met his eyes hopelessly, "Compassion. Empathy; whatever you want to call it. I actually care for things that aren't like me, and I won't do things just to get a gain from it; I do it because I care and I'm kind and aware when things need to be helped. That's why I wanted to help you—though maybe help is too strong a word—because I thought you might want to be better than you are. But you'll never change, so I shouldn't waste my breath."

"But why do you care?" Techno spat, "Why would you go out of your way to even tame dragons in the first place? It only got you somewhere worse. This beast did nothing good for you, so why care?"

"Because he's my partner; my friend; my other half. We understand each other and we were there when no one else was," Tommy said indignantly, moving to stroke Mellohi on the snout, "I don't care if it's some sort of fucking forbidden friendship—we have a bond, and it'll stay that way till the day I die. Either that or I die early, cause Mellohi is one of the best things that ever came into my life, and I'm not letting him go that easily."

Technoblade stared at the ground for a moment, thinking about everything he had ever done, though, said, in only one moment. His face grew redder by the second as he did so, and then he closed his eyes before shaking his head, this time in acceptance and he looked up at Tommy with a strained look of sadness.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Technoblade said and Tommy's expression softened, his mouth hanging agape.

"W-what?" he stuttered, narrowing his brows and turning his head like a troubled dog, "Tell me my ears aren't working correctly."

"I'm sorry," Techno said, bowing his head, "For everything. I wish my guidance hadn't been clouded, nor my vision," he screwed up his face, and Tommy wondered if he would even shed a single tear, "I can't say I didn't want to do any of this, or I wish I hadn't. But I can feel bad about myself and my actions, and I don't deserve or expect forgiveness, especially not from you."

"I..." Tommy went to speak but he had no words to say. He shook his head and looked at Technoblade with confusion, "Why now? Why the sudden change of heart after everything? That's something you swore not to do, and you're not to type of person to change."

"I realised that if someone would try to risk their life to save what they belied in, perhaps it was a good cause," Techno said, "You stood out from everyone else because you believed what others thought was wrong. You could've backed down, but you didn't and it led to this. You could've let that arrow go, but you wanted it to stop. Nothing I could do could crush that belief, and it makes me a fool to admit it."

"No; it makes you wise. You realised your mistakes—"

"After a lifetime of serving them!" Techno snapped, "I let one man decide my fate; one man so was so puny and weak that he could've been squashed like a bug, yet he was the one acting like the queen bee, and what was I but a worker. Everything was my fault."

"Techno; you were eight years old," Tommy stated, shaking his head and moving closer to the sorrowful soldier, who didn't even seem to notice. Strange how only minutes ago he was violent and enraged and out to kill Tommy; well, he now only wasn't the last one, "Philza manipulated your fear and grief for your mother into something savage and irascible—something he could use. He made you into a soldier, and it didn't matter if he had made you hollowed out or not. He took you away from a normal childhood, from your brother, from your friends; he convinced you the path of the brutal was the one you needed to take—to avenge an enemy that never existed in the first place. He never got over your mother, so he made sure that you and Wilbur didn't either. Philza is the true mastermind here, Techno, and he will be for as long as you let him," Tommy held out his hand to the man, a bridge between two cliffs over a crevasse, "The choice is yours."

Techno observed him for a moment; his offer; his chance; his thoughts. Maybe he was acting against everything he had been taught. Maybe he had been hit too hard on the head. Maybe he was a fool. But Thor help him, he was going to try. So he grasped Tommy's hand, pulling himself up and standing in front of him, and though Techno was taller, they both smiled at each other face to face.

"What now? Do I get to sail into victory, or is that reserved for the guys with lizards?" Techno asked, brandishing to Mellohi, who growled at him and he held up his hands, "Okay, guess I'm not a saint yet."

"Might be a while before that. I mean, you did threaten us, fight us, attack us, begin a war with us, beat your brother to a pulp...the list spirals," Tommy said and Techno sighed, looking around.

"Yeah, I mean, what can I expect?" he asked, and his vison landed on his mask that sat in the sand. He walked over to it, picking it up before walking back over to Tommy. Techno examined it carefully before sighing.

"Wonder what to do with this thing?" he murmured, "Not like I can wear it now..."

"Mind if I?" Tommy asked, holding out his hand and Techno shrugged, passing it to him before folding his arms and narrowing his eyes. Tommy walked over to a small dune, kneeling down in the sand before placing the skull to his side and began scooping away sand. Techno looked over at him, narrowing his eyes before getting closer. Mellohi ran forwards, snapping at him to back off before going to Tommy's side. Technoblade rolled his eyes before looking back at the boy and his eyes widened as he saw what he was doing.

He was burying it.

The skull was sat in a small hole in the dune, sand being dropped on it. Techno watched with softened eyes as the boy did it, then he stood up, wiping his hands and looking back at Techno.

"That dragon deserved a proper death, not an afterlife spent hanging on someone's face," Tommy snapped, looking back at it before shaking his head and climbing on top of Mellohi's back. The dragon grumbled as he looked from Techno to Tommy, exchanging a look of annoyance before Tommy shook his head.

"Where are you going?" Technoblade asked, slotting his sword back into it holster and the crossbow back on his back.

"Back to the fight. You're welcome to join me, if you want to arrive as a changed man. Or to just kick some more ass?" Tommy offered, giving out his hand. Mellohi growled, obviously not wanting the soldier on his back—not just from his size but also who he was. Techno smiled with spite at the dragon and took Tommy's hand, climbing on top of the dragon, his foot stamping into the Triple Stryke's side. Mellohi grumbled, unravelling his tails and hanging them so close to Techno's head before Tommy shook his head and frowned.

"Mellohi; we've got to keep him on our side!" Tommy whispered, looking back at Techno before sitting back up. He gave him a pat and they lifted off of the ground, Techno stiffening up as he looked over the side. It only occurred to Tommy that he had never ridden a dragon—even if he had killed thousands of them.

They flew over the base, which Techno observed with an expression Tommy couldn't put a finger on, and then they arrived at the first beach (it was a small island after all).

Funnily enough, it was full of people, not only that but a handful of dragons too. The people were walking in an orderly fashion, a few of Tommy's friends standing tall on their dragons and shouting at where they should go (mostly Dream and Quackity, but George was there too). Most were just herded into a section of the beach, where they stood looking scared and abashed. The dead were collected by a few, placed on the last ship that was being manned by Sapnap. Most of the ships were either burning ferociously or gone far below the water to the point that they were long gone past the eye's reach. Tubbo and Ranboo still hovered in the sky and Karl stood with an eagle eye view from atop Kinoko's horns.

It was clear who was the winning side, and which one's knees had buckled underneath them

Wilbur was lying under the shade of a tree with Niki by his side, his wounds being tended to while both dragons sat next to them; Symphony close to his head and Niki looked up at Tommy with a comforting smile, but that was before she noticed Techno.

All people looked up as they flew past in the sky, some pointing and some frowning as their eyes caught onto the large and noticeable Technoblade sitting behind Tommy; his face unmasked and his cloak scarred. Dream and the others watched as they flew around the sky, spinning around in a circle before landing on the beach. Tommy flipped up his helmet and walked over to meet Dream as the other walked towards him, taking away his own mask and giving Techno a look as he descended down from Mellohi's back. The Triple Stryke hissed once he was down, giving him an angry look before moving to Tommy's side. Technoblade followed.

"Well, well, well," Dream said with a smile, "This is one person I thought I'd never see riding a dragon—at least not one he hadn't tortured first."

Techno stood there, looking to the ground and not speaking, so Tommy spoke for him, aware of the number of eyes on him as he did so. The others were telling the other side's soldiers what to do, though they were still giving Tommy a bit of their attention.

"We came to an agreement," Tommy said boldly, Techno looking back up at him as he spoke, "One that works out well for all of us, in the end."

"What; you on our side now? After everything you think you can just be buddies? Scars can't fade with a simple handshake," Dream snapped and Techno sighed, gritting his teeth, not in annoyance with Dream—more at himself than anything.

"I'm sorry. Truly, I am. I should have never done any of those things, no matter who told me to or why I even did them in the first place. Every action I took, I only hurt other people more than myself. I was blinded by my own ignorance and eagerness to please; though it was unknown to me that it was even there in the first place. I'm sorry for everything that I did to you and everyone else. You were my friends and I pushed you away, hurt you, never treated you like friends when really you were the people I needed to be there to guide me and help me, but I thought opposite. I'm sorry, Dream. I'm sorry for being bad to you, for casting you guys off of the island, for trying to hurt you, for fighting Quackity like I did. I'm sorry, but I understand if you don't accept it."

Techno bowed his head and Dream sighed, his fingers moving across Nightmare's head, who looked up at Techno with a strange fascination and recognition. Dream shook his head with a bitter smile.

"You're a strange one, Techno. I've never fully understood you, which probably made me want to be your friend even more. But one thing that I always respected about you was that you never lied. So now, I'm asking you to do the same, because that's what I respect from you. Are you lying to me now?" Dream asked, arching his brow and Techno shook his head.

"Never. I realised what I was becoming before it overgrew around me entirely, and I am truly sorry. For everything."

Dream sighed, looking to the ground while shaking his head, before looking up to meet Tommy's eyes with a grin.

"Not bad, kid," he muttered and Tommy matched his grin with his own, and soon Techno did. Until for a moment, they stood unanimously just smiling and sharing one same thought. Then, Tommy watched as the sudden change in their expressions turned, going from friendly to seriously. A look of two generals. They walked forwards, staring at the lines of soldiers like Tommy wasn't there anymore. He might've been annoyed, but instead he was impressed.

"How are you handling the troops?" Techno asked sternly, watching them like a vulture, "What will become of them?"

"Well, they're your men—sir," Dream added suavely, getting a small gleeful side eye form Technoblade, who put his hands behind his back and marched forward boldly. All eyes turned to watch him—whether they were bitter or uncertain, but they were still under his orders.

"MEN!" he shouted, his voice filling the beach and taking everyone's attention, "It is clear that from the look of now, and the outcome of today, we are the losing side. Though some of you may be angry or bitter or think I am the biggest fool on this field, no one can deny that they have outdone us in something no one else here has; skill. Regardless of the outcome, we will hold our heads high and not condemn them for their victory, but respect them. I know we sought out this place with violent natures, and many of you will wonder why my change of heart, but I assure you, L'Manberg will not be a place that crumbles beneath—"

"WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE!" someone roared loudly, and everyone turned to see who had outdone Technoblade with his volume.

A man trudged out of the sea and onto the sand, his clothes and hair matted against his skin. His face was teething was a furious rage, and if he hadn't had been wearing the clothes that he was, Tommy would have guessed it was a mad man half drowned in the sea and not actually Philza. He stomped out into the sand, only one shoe still on his feet and his clothes were drenched, dripping like a water monster. He snarled, shaking a shivering finger at Techno and casting an evil look at everyone else.

"What...the FUCK do you think you're doing?" he roared, stepping forward quickly towards Techno, who only stood calmly as the mad creatures moved towards him. Dream stepped back, putting his arm in front of Tommy and both of the dragon growled. Everyone else watched in anticipation, almost pity on their faces as the man spiralled into a craze.

"It's over, Philza," Techno stated coldly, staring down at him with disgust while still holding his calm stature, "We—YOU have lost, so there's no point dragging any of this out. We can be civil to them and leave peacefully, and you can leave in chains. You've caused enough damage as it is."

"ME? It was YOU who orchestrated all of this, who led the soldiers here! YOU are the FACE of L'Manberg, and don't you forget it," Philza sneered and Technoblade shook his head at him.

"You are one puny man, Phil, if you can't even own up to your mistakes. You are a spawn of Niflheim, and I hope one day it consumes you like how your ideals consumed me. Now, are you going to act compliant or will I need to use force to restrain you?"

"RESTRAIN ME? I AM IN CHARGE HERE!" Phil screamed, madness in his eyes, "I AM THE CHIEF OF L'MANBERG, AND I MAKE THE CALLS OF WHAT TO DO, ESCPECIALLY ON YOU, YOU PUTRID LITTLE WRETCH! I RULE ALL OF YOU, AND NO TRAITOROUS, DISGUSTING, SIN-FILLED SON OF MINE IS GOING TO TAKE IT FROM ME, NO MATTER WHAT YOUR NAME IS OR HOW STRONG YOU THINK YOU ARE!"

Philza ran forwards, pulling back his arm to punch Techno and he did so sluggishly, only Technoblade caught his fist in his hand, leaving Philza struggling as he tightened his grip on it. Tommy gaped at his sheer might and watched as Techno started to push Philza down to the ground. Tommy eyed Wilbur watching at the scene faintly from where he sat on the beach.

"You...are...NOT in charge!" Techno roared, Philza's knee falling to the ground as he bent his hand backwards and pushed him further, "You never have been, you never are and you never will be! I AM IN CHARGE, and I AM YOUR HEIR!" he shouted, looking back at Wilbur, who smiled softly and nodded weakly. Techno turned back around to face Philza irately, "YOU are the one that is weak, Philza, and I am ashamed to have to know that you are my father, because any blood that is yours only soils anything else it touches. AND I would rather DIE, than give in to you and join you by taking a place beside you. Enough is ENOUGH!"

Techno let go of his hand, getting his other fist and punching him in the face, sending the man back a bit and onto his back. The man growled, licking the blood that fell down his face and standing up on wobbly legs, glaring at everyone.

"You're all TRAITORS!" he roared, backing away, "COWARDS! WRETCHES! IGNORANT LITTLE FUCKERS ON DRAGONS! You will ALL pay for this! Though start out small..." he muttered, then he turned to the side and started to run, knocking anyone who got in his way and punching anyone who moved towards him. Then he went towards something on the beach, something he should not have had access to.

The funny thing about the beach was that it had items from the ship loaded onto it; weapons, mostly. Boxes of swords, hilts of arrows, crates of bows. Cannons. Nets. Cannons with nets. Bolas. The not-so-funny thing was that Philza ran directly towards a cannon with a net and aimed it towards the sky.

The funny thing about the sky was that Tubbo and Ranboo occupied it at that moment—both crammed onto one small Razorwhip with two Terrible Terrors circling the sky around them. The not-so-funny thing about the sky—or more so those guys in the sky—was that they were oh-so-directly above a burning boat, for some reason no one would be able to quite understand.

Oh, and one more thing, though it can be decided by another whether it was funny or not-so. Tubbo, being the questionable lad he was, had not stuck to his word that he had given Tommy. His armour had been too uncomfortable to wear, too heavy and frustrating. So he had started small, forest removing his helmet because let's be honest; 'it's not like it does anything if the flap is up anyway'. Then it was the ankle pieces, then the wrist pieces, legs, arms, and then anything other than the chest ('cause that's the place they always attack). Ranboo had tried to contend him, but it was hard when Tubbo wouldn't look at him. The helmet went into the satchel, along with a few of the smaller pieces but the rest were dropped into the ocean, which annoyed Ranboo more because of how much effort Sapnap had put into them ('relax; he has more scales').

It was quite unfortunate what happened next.

Philza moved over to a net, aiming it directly towards Tubbo. Everyone saw what he was doing. Only most of them moved. Techno's eyes went wide, rushing forward towards him in what felt like the Earth slowed down ten times. Dream moved back to Nightmare, but Tommy was too slow as he only watched as the man's hand meticulously moved to press the trigger.

He pulled the release. The net escaped. Tommy could only watch as it flew—a creature of flight without grace—and made its way towards his brothers. He could only watch as they saw it coming just before it hit, and he could only watch as it encapsulated them.

Tubbo, Ranboo and Spins were all caught, Spins roaring and twisting in agony, his wings falling short as he could not move them very far. The two people scrambled under the net, the two Terrible Terrors biting at the nets. Spins was no longer able to keep flying, so he did the only thing he could.

Fall.

But Tubbo squirmed too, and as he squirmed he moved towards the edge of Spin's back and fell through a gap under the net, below the dragon's underbelly and directly underneath where he had been before. Directly into the mouth of flames. And all he could do was reach out as he fell.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Tommy shrieked, moving back to get on Mellohi's back and flying out towards him as fast as he could. Dream had been seconds before him—instead flying towards Spins and Ranboo—Nightmare snatching them up from the net in her claws just before they plummeted and drowned in the sea—though the burden of them weighed her down, but she only gritted her teeth and flew back, crash-landing onto the beach as they impacted against it.

Tommy was only just about getting closer to Tubbo when he did that. The boy had been quite high up when he fell, so he was not yet consumed by the flames that manically ate away at the abandoned ship. He pulled down his mask as he felt the wave of heat, only focused on the boy's hand reaching out towards him.

Everyone was watching him.

"C'MON MELLOHI; C'MON!" Tommy cried, gripping his horns so tight the Triple Stryke roared and increased his speed. Tubbo's face was so frightful that Tommy took in some of his fear, the fire growing ever closer. The world turned upside down, and for Tommy it had only gotten slower and slower—so slow he felt he would never be able to get to his brother in time.

"TOMMY!" Tubbo cried, tears spilling from his eyes as he felt the roaring fire against his back, the sides of his vision covered in clouds of fire. Tommy's heat beat faster than Mellohi's wings.

As Tubbo fell, Tommy could only breathe and fly.

As Tubbo fell, Ranboo lay against the sand, his mouth wide like his tearful eyes, thinking only about how he could never repay his debt to his friend that had done so much for him, and he could never do as much.

As Tubbo fell, Wilbur watched through puffy eyes and saw only the haze of two figures destined to never meet.

As Tubbo fell, Niki watched with his hands over her mouth, her eyes trickling with tears over a boy she never got to know for as long as she would've liked, her eyes wide with horror.

As Tubbo fell, Dream felt sorrow.
As Tubbo fell, George felt pity.
As Tubbo fell, Sapnap felt grief.
As Tubbo fell, Quackity felt bitter.
As Tubbo fell, Karl felt the tears trickle down his cheeks as another child would fall because of man's ignorance.

And as Tubbo fell, Techno felt anger. He felt it everyday, but today he felt it even more so. Because as Tubbo fell, there was only one man to blame, and he had caused so much damage it was unbelievable he had not been struck down by the gods before his time.

He felt anger...at himself.

As Tubbo fell, he felt the fire consume his back, his chest, his head, his everywhere. He felt it pull him into darkness, and he followed it like a lamb to the slaughter (a boy in the woods). He closed his eyes, tears filling them and a pain in his chest that hit before the fire did.

Tommy lunged forwards, the heat of the fire filling the space around the outside of his body and Mellohi roared as it hit him too, but he reached forwards and as Tubbo fell limply, his hands were still reaching forwards. So as they got closer, he finally got close enough until he could reach back and take it for him. He grabbed Tubbo's body, pulling it over his back and rearing Mellohi back up out of the fire, which he did weakly.

Everyone on the beach watched with wide eyes and nervous minds as Tommy disappeared into the fire with Tubbo, watching, waiting, preparing for him not to return. But those he knew him knew he would return, and even as the seconds ticked by and when he flew back up past the clouds of smoke and agony, they smiled and everyone cheered. Soldiers fighters, riders, enemies. Only one man wanted a boy to die—the rest were not so heartless.

Tommy coughed as he escaped the fire, flying back to the beach with Tubbo over his back. Mellohi was weak too—they all were—and Tommy could see the burns on his scales. His own suit was charred, and he didn't even want to look at what had happened to Tubbo.

They landed on the beach, Mellohi rolling against the sand as they did so and growling as it mixed into his wounds. Tommy grunted, pulling Tubbo over his back and landing to his knees as he touched the ground. Everyone moved over to him, looking over and whispering as their eyes locked onto Tubbo and himself. Some people were holding Philza—probably horrified at what he had done and making sure he didn't escape without judgement. Tommy's friends moved to be closest to him—Wilbur included with the help of Niki— their eyes going wide and gasping when they saw the two of them. Mellohi laid at Tommy's side, and Tommy moved to lay Tubbo in front of him, his hand under his head. Ranboo moved to sit by Tubbo's side, trying to meet Tommy's eyes as he sat beside him. But Tommy only looked at Tubbo.

The boy was a mess. The clothes he was wearing under his armour were torn and black from burning, and that was only one bad thing. His hair was black at the tips with burning and it smelled like it too. His skin...oh his skin. It was scarred bad with burns. The right side of his face was covered in a large one that was raw and red and peeling, but his whole right side was too, almost like he had been present in an explosion. The other side of his body was as well, just not as badly.

Tommy removed his helmet, throwing it onto the ground before placing his hand on Tubbo's chest, then his head. Ba, Bump. Ba, Bump. Ba, Bump. His heart rate was slow, growing slower by every beat. By this time Tommy's eyes were already overcrowded with tears, but now they only fell onto Tubbo, sizzling if they fell on his burns.

"No, no, no, no, no; Tubbo please!" Tommy muttered, his thumb stroking the boy's chin as it limped in his palm, "TUBBO, please wake up. Please; I can't...lose you! I WON'T LOSE YOU!"

Tommy sobbed, stroking the boy's chin before feeling his very steady heartbeat. Spins had pushed through the crowd—like most of the dragons—and grumbled at Tubbo's side, sniffing him before nudging him with his head, mewing. Tommy didn't even have the energy to stop him. He sobbed silently, feeling the pity from everyone radiate off them and onto him, some of their own eyes stained with tears, others only a silent sadness. Ranboo put his hand on Tommy's back, his own tears silent and calm like his sobs and put his head against Tommy's shoulder.

Ranboo wanted to tell him it was okay, but that was impossible—and it was a lie.

Tommy cried, his tears enough to fill an ocean, and placed his head against Tubbo's torso, his sobs the only movement the boy's body would get. He could still feel the small pings of a heartbeat in his chest, like a bee stuck in a jar. Then, instead of feeling something warm and burning, he felt something cold and wet.

Looking up, Tommy's tearstained eyes locked onto something he did expect.

"Zuko?" he questioned quietly, looking up at the Tide Glider. The aquatic dragon looked down at him, mewing before resting his head on Tubbo like Tommy had. He looked at Niki, but she only shrugged. Spins growled at Zuko, but he only mewed back, and for some reason Spins relented.

"He's gone, buddy," Tommy mumbled, stroking the aquatic dragon, "Or he will be, soon."

Zuko met his eyes, but made no noise. Instead, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth and saliva started to drip out. Tommy narrowed his eyes and went to touch him when the dragon's body started to glow. Tommy recoiled back, but then he started to see the saliva seep into Tubbo's skin, and feel the burning heat cease from within him. Tommy's knowledge came back to him and he started to smile.

"He's healing him," he whispered, looking around at the blank faces of everyone else, so he repeated himself louder, "HE'S FUCKING HEALING TUBBO!"

People started to smile, and some people started to remember. Dream smiled, whispering and nudging his friends and Niki smiled at Wilbur, who smiled down at Tommy. Technoblade smiled softly, not even bothering to look over his shoulder as he kicked the person behind him as hard as he could in the groin. It felt good.

Tommy breathed quickly, looking from the cheering people to Tubbo, who looked not-as-dead. His scars were still there—and they always would be—but he would never let anyone be awful to him for that. Ranboo grinned, looking from Tommy to Tubbo and gripping his hand tightly.

Zuko receded, closing his mouth and standing back up, mewing and looking from Tubbo to Tommy. Tommy put his head against Tubbo's chest, hearing and feeling the increase in his heartbeat. He wasn't conscious, but that as fine; he needed his rest.

"He's alive!" Tommy shouted, grinning up at everyone, "He's fucking ALIVE!"

People started to cheer and laugh, hugging each other and jumping up in glee, a few kisses here and there and smiles everywhere. Tommy nodded at Wilbur, and Wilbur nodded back, and when Wilbur looked at Techno, his brother looked back and for the first time in years, they smiled at one another.

"Thanks, Zuko," Tommy said, "You're more than I credited you for. A right smashing dragon."

Zuko purred, reaching down to lick Tommy on the head and Tommy laughed, watching as he walked back to Niki, who bowed at him jokingly before rubbing his snout.. Spins nestled his head against Tubbo's chest and Tommy moved from underneath the boy, placing him on Ranboo's lap and scuttling over to Mellohi, who was grinning and looking at Tommy happily. Tommy moved over to sit with his head in his lap, other people moving away to get things going again. He could think about that later.

"Alright Mellohi?" Tommy asked scratching the Triple Stryke under the chin and on the side, "Thor; you're such an amazing fucking dragon. You're a hero, y'know? A real fucking hero, and you have every right to be proud. Gods, it's hard to think about how a few months ago, we were back in those words on L'Manberg, back in that cave, at that lake. We were nothing like now, and I didn't know anything that would come. Hah, imagine; if I'd never gone down to that lake? If I hadn't saved you after that attack? Thor fucking mighty; what a ride we've been on mate. I love you so much, y'know."

Mellohi did know. He growled softly, rubbing his head against Tommy's chest and licking his hands. He loved that boy more than any dragon had ever loved a human, and he never knew anything like it in his whole scaly life.

"I wonder what'll happen now. Too much, I fucking bet. But at least, though it all, we'll still have each other. And Tubbo and Spins, Ranboo and Pearl and Chest, Niki and Zuko, Wilbur and Symphony, Dream and every fucking rider with every fucking dragon they love. Techno, now—I suppose.

But through it all, it's me and you versus the world."

Chapter Text

The soldiers of L'Manberg were welcomed beyond the gates of the riders haven like they had been allied for years. The memories of fighting and anguish were put to the side, as they would always be less important than making sure everyone was fully healed. Their conflict had been created by a man they no longer followed, so there was no reason for any aversion to form between the two sides.

There were still a few people on either side that were bitter about it, but most were just happy to have somewhere to tend their wounds without the fear of more forming. Cover the dead and mourn their losses.

Tommy wasn't one to object to the idea. He didn't mind as he watched them trudge through the gates, the watchful eyes of the Sentinels on them (though they couldn't see from them, so there was little point at all). He only cared if Philza was held somewhere he deserved and didn't squirm beyond the crowd and get away.

Though Technoblade made sure he was always in his view, with five men around him at all times. Eventually, he was thrown into a spare cave and guarded at all times, everytime. Everyone made sure he wasn't going anywhere, which Tommy though was good. Techno thought it was best he never even tried to get out, so he spent most of his time unconscious anyway. If he did wake up, he did to a pounding head and then a few minutes before someone noticed and fixed his problem. Techno didn't really care if it was unethical, and neither did Tommy He had done enough damage.

And speaking of damage, there was quite a lot. More than quite. Most of the L'Manberg ships were in pieces, their weapons barely holding out and the beach was a wreck. Some of the dragons were hurt, but they would be attended to later. The island was...a state at most, and Tommy could see in Dream's expression that was just another problem for another time.

Everyone was hurt in some way, be it physical or emotional. Tommy had stayed by Tubbo's side the entire time after he had been healed by Zuko. No matter what anyone did or said, he could only focus on his friend. Tommy made sure he was the first to be treated in the medical shelter, to which the only person to help was Karl and Quackity. And Quackity seemed to care about Tubbo's wellbeing to, which Tommy couldn't and didn't understand but didn't waste his energy thinking about. Ranboo was there too, but Ranboo was always there.

Over the hours—days—weeks (Tommy couldn't tell, it all just blurred into time where the sun and moon switched)—Tommy restrained all his effort and energy into making sure he was awake to watch Tubbo. The boy's eyes did not so much as flutter, and the only part of him that moved was his chest—slowly and heavily. His face was bandaged, along with anywhere else of him that was burned, but Tommy knew what would remain underneath them. Horrible, grisly burns. Ones that would make Tubbo different, even more so than before. Tommy wouldn't care about them, not as much as Tubbo would, but he was glad that they were no longer young children. Because if they were—and surrounded by others—the amount of shit Tubbo would gets for his scars would be immeasurable.

Karl was one who tried to get Tommy to move away from Tubbo's bedside. Persuasions of talking to Dream or Techno, seeing Mellohi or any of the other dragons (who weren't allowed in the medical shelter) or maybe even doing something productive. Tommy refused. In the end, the only way Karl could pull him away was telling him Wilbur wanted to see him. He was only a curtain away, and Tommy moved for the first time when Karl asked him.

Wilbur wasn't in as bad a state as Tubbo, but he was still in a bad state. He had a few black eyes, bruises and cuts. His eyes flickered when Tommy had approached and he grinned slightly, hissing from the pain.

"Alright Tommy?" he muttered and Tommy scoffed, sitting down beside him.

"You look like shit," Tommy said and Wilbur frowned.

"I bet I still have my good looks," Wilbur grinned and Tommy shook his head with a smile, "How's Tubbo?"

"Managing," Tommy stated, "I mean, he hasn't died yet, so I think he's alright. Worse than you, though."

"And Da—Philza?"

"From what I've heard from the whispering conversations in the back of here, he's still contained. Not that he gets to chance not to be, but at least he's not a major problem. Just an annoying fly or something."

"And what is a major problem?"

"I really don't know, Wilbur. I've been outside this shack the same amount you have, which is none. I only hear certain bits when I'm not completely zoned out, and they aren't most reliable. I mean, they're probably more focused on making sure things are alright. The soldiers, you guys, the dragons. Fixing damage and sorting out the little things. At least, that's what I'd do."

"Quite the aftermath manager," Wilbur said, shuffling to sit up properly, which caused him some pain, "Gods, I wish I could actually do something instead of sitting here so...uselessly."

"There's nothing wrong with a bit of rest and recovery."

"You wouldn't be saying that if it was you in here," Wilbur scowled, "You'd be grasping at any chance to leap out of bed and get back into the action."

"Well, I wasn't talking about me," Tommy said with a smile and Wilbur returned it. He craned his head to look past the flowing curtain that divided himself from anyone else in the shelter, narrowing his eyes. Wilbur looked back at Tommy and gestured beyond the curtain.

"You better get back out there," he said, "There are a lot more things that are more important than me and my bad head. Though I am still quite important, well maybe more than just—"

"Don't flatter yourself," Tommy said with a shake of his head, standing up and turning to move away. Then, he thought for a moment before turning swiftly and moving back to wrap his arms across Wilbur's front. The man gave a grunt as he impacted, but then looked down at Tommy with fondness as he moved to put his own arms around him, one hand combing through his blonde curls.

"I—" Tommy wanted to say, but he found he had no words to say. That was alright. Wilbur knew what he wanted to say—he could feel it.

"Don't worry about me," Wilbur murmured, "I'll be fine. Tough cookie. And I'll make sure I never get like this ever again."

"You promise?"

"Sure do," Wilbur said and Tommy smiled, taking in the moment where he didn't have to do anything other than feel the comfort and warmth of his brother's chest and his long barricading arms that shielded him from any danger he had to go out and confront.

Huh. He had gotten a lot of brothers recently.

Tommy pulled away finally, though would rather not, and with that he said goodbye to Wilbur with the flick of the hand and disappeared behind the curtain. The sun was high and bright and there was lots of activity outside the shelter, so much that Tommy wondered if he should go out. See the dragons and his friends and what is happening beyond the medical world. But then he thought of Tubbo, never-ending sleep and alone, and he couldn't.

Only when he got back, he found someone else in his place by Tubbo's side, someone he didn't expect.

Quackity sat tentatively by Tubbo's side, removing the bandages wrapped around him and replacing them with new ones. His back was turned to Tommy, so he did not look upon him as he approached. Tommy didn't know where Ranboo was, but that wasn't on his mind—Quackity was. He watched him as he worked, then as he stepped forward some more the man's ears twitched and he suddenly turned to face Tommy, his expression unreadable.

He checked Tubbo's health before rising up and shoving past Tommy, who followed him with his eyes with a confused expression. He looked around for Ranboo before taking his place next to Tubbo once again, checking what Quackity had done was right. It was, and Tommy didn't know if that was good or bad. Probably good...right?

Tommy sighed, watching sadly as Tubbo did nothing but levitate his chest up and down. Which was a good thing, of course, but boring and frightening. At any moment he could juts stop and—and Tommy wasn't ready for that. He never would be, because nothing could prepare him—or anyone—for losing his best friend. His brother.

There was scuffling around them, other people being tended to and talking, and Tommy realised how noisy it was. How large the shelter was. How many people were in beds and hidden behind curtains. Strange he had noticed before. Or maybe it was because he hadn't paid attention to it before.

Then, Tommy looked back at Tubbo, and what he saw made his heart stop, and then start beating even faster than before. His eyes were OPEN. Or, opening. They fluttered in and out of consciousness, faded and dazed but still awake. Tommy took in a deep breath, placing his hand on Tubbo's arm and smiling softly.

"Tubbo?" he asked softly, "Can you hear me?"

"T-Tommy..." Tubbo whispered, opening his eyes fully and turning his head to face Tommy. His right eye—that Tommy could see of—was a dull, faded grey surrounded by a large patch of scarred orange skin. It made Tommy's heart pang with pity, "Where...what-wait. Where's the dragons, or the ships or Philza or—"

"Woah, woah, woah; calm down. You're fine, you're safe, everything is fine. We-" Tommy chuckled, "-won. We actually won. Philza is done for, and Techno is on our side. Everyone is safe, and there won't be anymore bloodshed. What was the last thing you remember?"

Tubbo paused for a moment, his face scrunching up before his fists clenched, "I remember...falling. Always falling, going straight down into something...bad. I remember everything going dark, then...nothing. Am I dead?"

"No, not yet," Tommy said, "Not while I'm here to stop you—"

"Tommy," Tubbo said with a sudden urgency, "Why can't I see? Why is it dark?"

Tubbo trailed his hand across the face, waving it in front of his eye before turning to face Tommy was a scared confusion. He sat up, which caused him to hiss and put his hand to his side. Tommy sprang up and put his hand on his.

"Easy, easy now," Tommy said, helping him up before sighing, "You want to know what happened? Well, after you fell off of Spins' back, you fell all the way into that burning boat. The fire totally consumed you, which is why you're all bandaged. There's a lot of burns on your body, especially..." Tommy trailed his fingers across his cheek and Tubbo's eyes went wide, touching his own. Tommy passed him a small mirror on the side and Tubbo looked in it, his face melting, "I don't know if you'll ever see out of that eye again, but probably not. That eyebrow too."

"How-how did I get out?" Tubbo asked quietly, "From...the fire?"

"Well, I saved you," Tommy said with a small smile, "Me and Mellohi raced as fast as we could to pull you out, and we did. A few minor scratches, but still in one piece," Tubbo smiled, "And when we got you to the shore, well...well we almost lost you. Everyone was crowded around, and I mean EVERYONE, and I guess it broke through some sort of wall around them, because they forgot about the fighting and the turmoil and the hatred and just...felt pity, I suppose. Got along. We almost lost you, though, and we would've, if it wasn't for Zuko."

"Zuko?" Tubbo questioned.

"Niki's dragon, y'know, the Tide Glider."

"Oh, yeah. What, he saved me? How?"

"Tide Gliders have special healing properties in their saliva, and you were lucky enough to not be fully gone when he helped you."

"Eugh, so I got slobbered on by a big aquatic dragon?" Tubbo asked, "Gross. Would've rather died."

"Man, don't say stuff like that," Tommy rejected, though he did smile. Tubbo did too, though he looked down at the mirror another time and bit his lip. Tommy frowned and moved forward, pulling Tubbo into a hug. It was a bit uncomfortable and his joints stuck into his back and it hurt Tubbo's burns, but the meaning was there. Tommy rested his head on Tubbo's shoulder and felt his chest heaving, smelt the burning odour of his scars. But Tommy didn't care.

He never would.

"Gods, I'm such a mess," Tubbo said once they were released from one another, shaking his head and putting a hand through his uncombed hair. He had a look underneath the bandages wrapped around his torso and winced at the sight underneath.

"Maybe," Tommy said, patting his hand before standing up, "But it's a small one, and one we can clean up. Together."

-----------------------------------------------------------

The days went by quickly after that—after when Tommy finally gave himself the freedom to leave the medical shelter and actually do something.

He observed the situation of the island, talked to many people, helped many dragons and even had a look at Philza, who was knocked out again. He met with Techno and with Dream, and absolutely with Mellohi. Tommy had never been happier when he could finally wrap his arms around his scaly companion, feel the coolness of his scales, and even the slobber he got on his face was comforting. Tommy couldn't remember when the last time he had seen him was, or how many days he had spent by Tubbo's side, but he was glad to see Mellohi again.

Everyone had got on the bandwagon to convince Tommy to get out into the open air and enjoy himself; Wilbur, Ranboo (who had disappeared himself to see his own dragons), Karl, Dream, even Tubbo himself when he realised he was keeping Tommy tied to his hip. Mellohi became one of them when he pestered Tommy constantly, and it only took a few tail whackings to realise what it was.

He wanted to go flying, which at first Tommy refused profusely. What if he was needed? What if there was a storm or accident or they got stranded in the ocean? What if Tubbo needed him? But after consistent whackings, growlings and head gnawings, Tommy begrudgingly agreed.

(He knew he needed it, and it would clear his head and give him the comfort he required after such a traumatic and eventful week, but all those thoughts of what could go wrong kept on interfering with his plans, so he was in reality an emotional mess.)

But when the two of them were in the clouds, wind rushing past his face and body (his suit shielded him from any proper windrush, which stopped his hair from blowing also), Tommy just smiled and felt all that past happiness he had longed for, and he knew it was a good idea indeed.

Mellohi looked up at him with a tongue-hanging-out grin and spun around, adding even more exhilaration to the scene. They touched the clouds, and when they were done they fell to the seas, the agility of the Triple Stryke making a curve in the water that rose up high as they went past. They went as fast and as long as they could, Tommy's face never changing from a smile, his heartbeat quick and his mind racing from the turbulence.

It was peace, in a way.

Another thing became something Tommy grew more aware of, which was the arrival and continuation of Quackity.

He would constantly sit by Tubbo's side, helping him out or doing something to help his healing continue. Sometimes Tommy would just watch, out of curiosity, and wonder why on Earth this bitter and cold man would ever care about Tubbo. True; they were on the same side and true that he had never done anything openly cold towards either of them (other than Wilbur, but Tommy understood why on that account) but nothing about him screamed caring in any way.

One time Tommy watched, when Quackity was helping Tubbo with something to do with his face and bandages, Karl appeared by Tommy's side as he leant on the doorframe, arms crossed. Tommy side eyed him but didn't say a word, expecting Karl to have some of his own to share. And, as usual, he did.

"Wondering what he's doing?" he asked, and Tommy knew he meant Quackity.

"Only why. He's a hard man to read into, and his sharp tongue doesn't help much either," Tommy replied and Karl shook his head.

"I think that for a long while—maybe even forever—I might be one of the only people who ever understands Quackity truly. He never shares anything that isn't required, and he keeps himself to himself. But deep down, there is still the remnants of a fellow who was caring and happy and always ready to do what was good for everyone else before himself. That parts still comes out, I suppose, more than the rest. He shields himself with anger, because in all honesty that is man's best protectors."

"Yeah, I suppose," Tommy said, his eyes still lingering on the two scarred men. (Only one of them had tried so hard to cover his scar, and the other was only beginning to know what it was like).

"Don't you remember what I told you before?" Karl asked, and Tommy turned his head to look at him, "He's harsh because he cares, and he cares lot about everyone he wants to protect, which is everyone but himself. He cares because he doesn't want people to end up like him, and, well, look at him now."

Karl brandished his hands towards Tubbo and Quackity, a half-smile on his face and Tommy looked at the two for a moment, the cogs turning in his brain before understanding what Karl meant.

"I guess he sees himself in Tubbo, from the scars to the disposition to the attitude, funnily enough. He sees a boy who could turn out like him if he goes down the wrong path, and he'll make sure he doesn't find that path. He knows what it's like to have the whole world fall around him, like when he lost that duel and got that scar. To him it was ugly, and it needed to be destroyed...or covered up. And if his scar is a quarter of the size that Tubbo's are, then he'll have even worse confidence and anger. In a way, it's almost symbolic."

"Don't push it," Tommy said and Karl smiled, "How's he doing all that just by fixing his bandages."

Karl groaned and ruffled Tommy's hair, "It's so much more than just fixing bandages, Tommy. You'll understand when you're older."

With that he walked off and Tommy was left confused and bemused, but there wasn't anything he could do to make it any clearer, so he just continued to watch the two boys as one of them worked and one of them watched, oblivious to anything Karl said had been happening just like Tommy was.

-----------------------------------------------

Of course, the L'Manbergians could not stay forever and there eventually came the time when they were to depart from the island, as fit and healthy as when they arrived—maybe even more so. Some were joyous while some were not so, but in the end they never would've stayed there anyway.

Some of the boats had been able to be repaired, and they were able to leave on four boats instead, which wasn't much but if they all crammed on (and crammed the dead below the deck) then they could fit. Tommy watched as they called out and carried things on, making their way slowly but shortly.

He had managed to find Foolish among the days they had been here, though the man had not been too happy since a lot of his siblings had died in battle. Tommy felt as angry as he did, and it made him wonder what might've been if he or Tubbo hadn't been cast out when they were small. If they had lived a life behind Puffy's walls, smothered with affection and love. They would've been his siblings too, and he would've been sent into battle with them if he had never thought the world was different than it seemed. He might've died with them, or he might've mourned them too.

Despite that, he gave his goodbye to Foolish when he departed, telling him to give his condolences to Puffy. Luckily for him, Foolish seemed to accept them graciously and without bitterness, which he was grateful for.

Tommy stood on the beach watching them go, his expression nonchalant. He saw Philza being dragged across the sand, this time conscious and struggling. His struggle made no impact on the men carrying him. Dream and the others were also present, though in different places, and the only one of Tommy's group around was Niki, who was onloading a box onto one of the decks.

Then, Technoblade appeared beside him, his stature bigger than his own and Tommy turned to face him. He no longer wore his cloak of scales, instead sticking to a more comfortable brown shawl that went over his shoulders. The man simply watched his own men go by, a look of contentment on his face that a past Tommy wouldn't expect to ever see.

"Well I'll say it; none of this went how I expected," Techno said, stepping forward slightly so he could turn to face Tommy with ease, "Far from it. There's a lot more peace and calmness here that went right over my head before. It's good just...unexpected."

"I know what you mean," Tommy stated, "Lot less suffering than I thought. Expected it to just be a hit and go war, where only one side would come out alive. You have a lot of remaining soldiers, Techno, and I salute you for that."

"Please. If anyone deserves a salute it's you. After all, you made all this possible. Finding a positive outlier in every situation and making it work. Finding a way to coexist with dragons. Finding the good in people who had lost all of their own. Finding the life in those on the path to Valhalla. You're one of a kind, kid," Techno said with a smile, and Tommy returned it.

"Thanks. So, what are you gonna do when you get back?" he asked and Techno rolled his tongue over his teeth in thought.

"First things first, load him off into somewhere secluded and dark," Techno said, casting a glance at the restrained Philza, "Presumably the deepest cell on L'Manberg, and after that I'll make sure he's brought to justice. Make sure he never hurts anyone again."

"What, are you gonna be chief?" Tommy asked, "Boy, that'd be the day."

"Gods no," Techno said with wide eyes, "I'd never be any good in a position of power like that. Too much corruption. Too many jobs and rules to lay out. Thor, it makes me shiver just thinking about it."

"That's not something I'd ever hear you say," Tommy muttered.

"Nor I. But anyway, after that I'd probably, just, make things nicer, I suppose. Get the whole dragon act underway, make the island a bit more of a better place to live. Get a good chief—and I already have one in mind, but not that I'd force him or anything. In honesty, we'd all be much better without one but I guess no one would no how to exist without someone telling them what to do. I guess that's why they're such good soldiers."

"Well I'm sure whatever you do, you'll do it right," Tommy said, and Techno nodded, then his lips curled into a smile.

"Y'know, you're welcome to come back with us," he said, and Tommy's eyes went wide, "And the rest of you guys too; not that you'd know if they want to come but still. I mean, there's nothing there that's going to hold you back anymore, and it is your home after all. You'd be good back there; people would respect you. Well, I'd make them."

"I appreciate the offer," Tommy started, "But I think I belong here. It's comforting, y'know. Its a place I where I finally fit, and people I fit in with properly. And compared to L'Manberg—even if it changes—it feels more like home than that place ever did. But thanks for the offer; maybe I'll visit some time."

"I don't think I'd let you not. Either me or Schlatt," Technoblade said and Tommy scoffed.

"Yeah right. I don't think he'd really be all that bothered," Tommy said harshly and Techno narrowed his eyes sympathetically.

"You know, he cares more than you think," Techno said and Tommy pulled a confused expression, "I overheard a conversation between him and Phil—the latter trying to be menacing and all that—and he stood his ground to protect you. He would've taken all the blows Phil was going to give out to make sure you were safe. And considering I don't have a good view on fathers, I'd consider that a pretty good one."

Tommy was silent for a moment while he took it all in, and the pat on his shoulder brought him back. Techno smiled down at him, his red eyes appearing not as violent as they had been before.

"Whatever the case, you'll always have people by your side. That's one of your charms; people will be with you even if they want to or not," Techno said and Tommy grinned, "I mean, you've got a silver tongue, kid. Use it well, and you'll be on top of the world."

There was a loud and long horn blown somewhere in the distance, and both turned to look at the boats, which seemed ready to departure. Tommy's face crumpled and he turned back to Techno, who only smiled. The man held out his hand with a calm expression and Tommy took it, shaking it firmly.

"Til we meet again. Theseus," Techno said, pulling his hand away and At any other time before this one, Tommy would've been irritated by this nickname, maddened by his attitude. But that was before, and this was now, so Tommy only grinned and stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging gleefully.

"Goodbye, Techno," Tommy said softly, and with the wave of a hand and one last smile, Technoblade was gone. There was a small moment when Tommy's heart panged as he thought about he this could be the last time he saw Techno again, but that was quickly numbed down. Of course he would see him again. He was Techno. And he wasn't going anywhere yet.

It wasn't long before the ships pulled out, anchors pulled up and sails blowing in the wind. Tommy stood on a hill, the others beside him as they waved goodbye to the troops and soldiers of L'Manberg; arriving as enemies and departing as allies.

------------------------------------------------------------

After a few days, things started to get better around the island.

Wilbur was able to leave his bed and walk around, finally, after he had healed to the point where he insisted he had to get out, and no one was there to challenge him (much to his own sorrow).

Tubbo got better, but not good enough to fully go outside. People helped him walk around (mainly Quackity since Tommy barely got any time to do anything for Tubbo now HE was around) and he struggled to get the hang of walking with one eye permanently closed for renovation.

One day after Tommy had just visited Tubbo, he had been called by Dream to the Community House, and he guessed just by that that it was something important. If it wasn't, Dream would've spoken to him himself, and he would've sought him out personally. When he arrived there by dragonback, Dream was accompanied by the rest of his riders, including Karl. To say Tommy was nervous was the half of it.

"Hey," he said, trying to say something that would stop the anxiety in his head and he was rewarded with a grin from Dream.

"Hello Tommy," he said, moving around to welcome Tommy further in, "Come in, we have a lot to talk about."

Dream guided him to the table with his hand on his back, where Tommy noticed lots of pieces of paper scattered across it, countless words and drawings scribbled onto them. The image of a large mountain caught his eye, then another on vast plains and cliffs. Mellohi sniffed them, humming as one flicked across his nose.

"So; what's all this about then?" Tommy asked and Dream exchanged a look with the others, which made Tommy feel nervous. They weren't going to boot him off of the island were they? (Of course they weren't).

"Well, we've been thinking a lot, about the island, y'know?" Dream started, moving around to look outside of the Community House, "I mean, it's beautiful and peaceful at times and great for all our dragons, but it isn't safe anymore. At least, it wouldn't be it we had another encounter like we did."

"If the L'Manbergians found us that easily, who's to say that someone else won't. Someone worse?" Karl added, shaking his head, "I mean yes; we are on peaceful terms with them now—thanks to you, though—but anyone on that island could give away our location, and someone worse will always be out there, maybe even looking for us. There's always going to be nations who hate dragons, and anyone who associates themselves with them. And this island, good as it is, cannot handle them all. It is too small, too open; too much space taken up."

"So we went scouting a few times," Dream said, looking down at the paper on the central table, "Just when we realised what needed to happen, but you wouldn't have known about it anyway because you were busy visiting Tubbo. Which is fine, of course, it just means we get to tell you now."

"Tell me what?" Tommy asked and Sapnap tutted at his obliviousness, which made Karl punch him in annoyance.

"Well, we found one," Dream said, his eyes sparkling with joy, "An island. Went around the whole thing, and its perfect in everyway. Climate, greenery, space, size, caves. It's perfect for us and for the dragons, and its weird that no one has ever done anything long-term to it. Its fortifiable, easy to maintain and easy to live on. It could even fit more than double the amount of dragons we have now, and people."

"People?" Tommy questioned, "I thought you didn't want anyone finding us, how will more people make it better?"

"Well to be honest with you Tommy, having a place like L'Manberg is a dream for me. Not LIKE L'Manberg, of course, but the same image. A place with thriving communities and people who share the sae beliefs, people who can be looked after and thrive after living on our island. A place we can show our culture, and they can show theirs and a place where dragons can soar for miles without being shot or killed or bothered. And this island is the place, after a bit of touching up."

Dream looked down at a drawing, his finger stroking the graphite stained on the paper and smiling down at them. Nightmare rubbed her head in his other hand and he stroked her muzzle without really paying attention. He looked up at Tommy, who shuffled on his feet, thinking, before responding.

"How far away is it?"

"East for a good few miles. Far away, but not too far for any allies. It's good, Toms, I promise. If you'd been there, you'd agree," Dream said, looking at Tommy fully and no one else, like he wanted him to agree with him. Tommy thought hard about his proposition, looking down at the paper then back at Mellohi.

"Well..." he started, everyone perking up at what he had to say, "If it best suits everyone, then I'm all for it. It only matters what is best for everyone else, and if you guys are serious, then this might be just it."

Dream smiled, smacking his hand against the table to point his finger down on a place on a map, "Then it's settled. By the end of the week, we'll all have a new place to call home; one that will last for centuries and leave behind a legacy no one would've ever expected."

Chapter Text

Sitting by the shore was peaceful but also a bit hectic.

Niki enjoyed the view, really, and liked watching the scene that unfolded in front of her. Men armed with boxes that stacked past their own height in their arms, stumbling over the docks and wooden planks like a drunken bard. In fairness, Sapnap wasn't any better at directing them where to go than their own coordination was, so they were doomed to fail from the start.

Zuko lay beside her, grumbling as she tickled his soft spots and flapping his wings playfully. The Tide Glider had received several rewards over the last month, more from herself or anyone else that remembered what he had done. Niki never thought it would've been her own meek dragon that would save someone's lives and prompt a war to end, but she was glad it was.

More boats were arriving in the distance—more people coming to start lives or deliver supplies—and soon the once barren island would be full of life. Niki wondered if any of the trees would be bitter about that fact. It did seem like there would be more architecture than nature on the island after it was finished with, but she made sure to keep it in her mind that that never happened.

When they had first arrived there (they being the ten riders and every dragon they looked after) they island had looked as beautiful and good as Dream had claimed. It stretched for miles, mountains bigger than before and cliffs taller than any they had seen. There was room for them to thrive and the dragons. Essempi, Dream had called it, and no one had doubted him because no one had a better suggestion.

They had been quick to build a base, using materials they had taken with them and ones they found. They were temporary, of course, and no one could wait to have one that would last. There had been many sketches and drawings of the village they wanted to be made, some Niki had looked through herself and liked the look of. Large huts on pillars and plains, towers with perches and resting stations for the dragons, caves with luminous crystals and vines and decorative things, feeding stations, plazas, a hall.

Everyone, it seemed, had such aspirations and hopes for their future, and Niki wondered what that left for herself.

Sure, she was one of the Dragon Riders now. Sure, she had new friends and a dragon by her side and a whole island to live and spend her life on comfortably. Sure, she could handle an axe or crossbow or anything else, but they had no more wars to fight. Sure, she was content, but was that really happiness?

Niki sighed—her head in her knees—and she stood up, making Zuko look up as her touch disappeared. She walked over to the docks where the men were still struggling, Zuko receding into the water but still watching. Sapnap shouted at someone to do something, a headband wrapped around his head. Unlike Niki, he was still wearing his armour, and it seemed that none of them never took them off.

His head turned as she approached and he smiled sincerely, though Niki herself didn't look that happy. Sapnap could tell, Niki thought.

"Hey, Niki," Sapnap said cheerfully, looking to the side shortly to watch someone stumble, "No, no, no, no, no; you take THAT box to the village with the others, THAT crate stays on the beach and THAT one is to my personal hut! Oh, err, sorry about that Niki. Idiots, y'know?"

"You seem quite busy," Niki said, breaking a smile, "I guess even luxuries can't exist without work."

"Nah; it gives me something to do," Sapnap said, not looking at all bothered by his work, "Besides, there's nothing to do until we make everything the best it can be. Hey, what about you? What are you doing to keep busy? Or just in general?"

Niki looked to the ground, folding her arms and shrinking in on herself, "I don't really know."

Sapnap smiled, not asking any more questions and seeming to understand what she meant. He only breathed slowly, the rising and falling of his shoulders so alive.

"I get what you mean. Things are...strange now. It's hard to decide what to do when you have so much choice. But we all have time—just enough to make do. And that's all you can really ask for."

With that, Sapnap only patted Niki on the shoulder and turned away, returning to shout and give orders at whoever was nearby, some who were not even helping out at all and simply passing. Yet Niki remained where she stood, the oceanic breeze blowing her hair out of its position and whipping her cheek violently. Instead of standing alone like a stranger, she decided to move along the other side of the shore, the ocean creature following her.

In a way, Sapnap had been a help...but he also hadn't. His words had been comforting, sure, but they had also been loose and empty-shelled, and Niki couldn't stand things like that. Hidden meanings in things that had none.

Exasperated, she moved quickly to the ocean's edge and leaped upwards, landing on the moist back of Zuko and not bothering to wipe it away from her rear. She only gave him one pat on the side and then they were off into the sky, no water or tides today (she wasn't wearing her suit anyway).

The ocean would always be on top, but the sky was also another good way to clear your head to. Niki understood why Tommy revelled in it so. It was too easy to lose yourself in the clouds, let your mind wander and touch the sun, let your skin grow its own wings and soar. Niki found herself being able to just lie down and feel safe enough not to drop, trusting Zuko with her life. It was times like these she really came to depend and regard him properly.

But there were also times where she felt she could really just...fly. Standing up tall and fly as quickly as the peregrine falcon, swerving and bending to dodge pillars of stone. Going faster than the birds that soared past. Gliding past the seas and watching as it flicked up behind her. Niki never stopped smiling.

When they stopped on a small cliff in the middle of the ocean, the exhilaration pounded through Niki's skull, the sky spinning as she lay down to stop the rising bile feeling in her throat. But after that left, she only had the greatest gratitude for being able to go the places she could, the heights others may never see.

That was something that made Niki appreciate the world around her, and after that reconcile she never longer felt out of touch with the world.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- THREE WEEKS LATER

Playing a guitar again was something Wilbur was more than happy to get along with again.

The way his fingers brushed across each string, the way his other hand turned and twisted with each chord, the way only peaceful music played out of it. It was all a mixture of goodness he had greatly missed during the duration of war and its aftermath.

There had just been one lying around on a bench somewhere Wilbur couldn't fully remember, the only noise coming from the construction around it and not the instrument itself. Wilbur had taken it away, and he'd been playing it ever since. He didn't know if someone had crafted it recently or if it had been among the supplies of the other island, but that didn't really matter. After all, it wasn't anywhere other than in his arms.

Symphony lay close by under the shade of a large willow tree, Wilbur next to her on a slight hump rooted against the trunk of the tree. She seemed to like the music he was playing, and Wilbur was happy to have a supporting audience that wasn't a gremlin child. Her tail went back and forth with the melody and Wilbur smiled as he watched out of the corner of his eye.

He had long healed now, after many weeks since he left the comforts of his bed. The bandages and bruises were gone, with only the memories had had gathered still with him. And the events around him, of course.

The island had been under a long reconstruction, with even more to go. Lots of people had flocked to the island after some advertisement that Sapnap and Karl had done to each passive island they had ever visited, and Wilbur had tried as hard as he could to avoid them all. They were either looking at him or Symphony—and that was just when he didn't have his armour on. He was a dragon rider, wasn't he? One of the OGs (though not really) and with a Death Song of all dragons!

Why people didn't want to see Tommy or Dream over him was beyond Wilbur, but he did his best to divulge in as little conversation as possible.

But he couldn't lie, the island did look a lot nicer now. The shrubs had been cut, the overgrowth reversed to undergrowth and caves cleared out of any hazards. The ten of them had had their huts done first (in the places they wanted them to be) and soon, after a few more weeks of building, the rest of the buildings started to stagger upwards and make the island become mainly focused in the air. Which Dream was totally for, of course.

As Wilbur played, his mind drifted back across memories of the past—some not that far away in theory. Before he had left, and a few times before that, Techno had come to see Wilbur while he was stuck to his bed. It was strange seeing and talking to someone who he had despised and thought so different of before who was now cheerfully talking and bantering at his side, but when he realised how much he had missed his brother, that doubt soon left his mind.

It really was good to have Techno back, though. Every time he remembered it, his heart fluttered with happiness and his smile grew three sizes. For most of his life, he'd never got to have that close bond that siblings shared—even with siblings that weren't blood related. A man had held them back but that man was no more.

Wilbur strummed the strings another time, sighing with relief and peace, and there was a clapping sound approaching him. Symphony poked her head up, grumbling curiously, and Wilbur cast his eyes up to look as a man came forward.

"Those are some nice tunes," he said, and Wilbur tilted his head.

Quackity pushed the branches of the willow out of his way as he passed through them, approaching Wilbur softly with a trace of a smile on his face. That was a strange sight. Nevadas followed behind him, blowing the willow leaves out of his eyes and looking at Symphony.

Quackity was clapping jokingly, and Wilbur didn't know whether to be unnerved or happy at his doing so. But to his surprise, the man only moved over and sat down next to Wilbur against the base of the tree, one knee up and his arm draped over it. Wilbur turned his head to look at him, but Quackity sat with his eyes closed, the sun raining down across the scar on his face.

Wilbur looked back, his eyes zoned out on the guitar in his hand, then looked to see Nevadas curled up next to Symphony, his own back in the sun. He remembered something Tommy had said about him when they first arrived on the first island and it came back to him.

"How come Nevadas can stay in the sun?" Wilbur asked, Quackity turning his head though his eyes remained closed, "Tommy told me Sandbusters can't be out in the light or else they get burned?"

"Oh that," Quackity said, then rubbed the back of his neck, "Really, he's just impervious to it, at least now. When I found him, he was so badly scorched by the sun after lying in it for so long that his scales had totally become red and raw. They all wore away, and became so numb that the sun didn't affect them anymore. I looked after him, and they got better, but it just made him even better cause he has an advantage others of that kind don't," he explained, then chuckled dryly, "Guess I never can escape scars."

Wilbur's face mellowed and his placed his guitar to one side, looking down with sorrow and then he sighed, lying down and looking up at the weeping branches and countless thoughts raced through his head, but only one was important.

"Quackity," Wilbur said seriously, and the man in question turned to face him, "I'm sorry," and by Quackity's silence, he knew he didn't have to say what for, "I'm sorry for never standing beside you when you needed me most, for standing with Techno and letting him do that to you. Though Techno has changed now, he wasn't good then, and I shouldn't have stood by him, not when my friends needed me most. I'm sorry for pretending to be the victim when I was nothing compared to you guys. I'm sorry for staying, and I'm sorry for letting you all go so easily. I was...a coward, and I don't expect to have changed in all your eyes...even with what has unfolded since. But if you'll have me, and with that I mean properly, then I promise to be the best friend anyone could be to another man. But I understand if not."

There was silence for a moment, before Wilbur heard the sighing escape from Quackity's lips and looked to him, whose shoulders heaved with reconciliation and pity. Wilbur sat back up, and they shared a mirrored pose, though Quackity's face seemed more mellow in posture.

"You are many things, Wilbur Soot, but a coward is certainly not one of them," Quackity said, shaking his head with a smile and Wilbur's heart bounced from the expectancy, "What you have done in your lifetime...is astounding compared to others. You've seen things others never have, experienced things no one ever will again. You've saved lives and at times, been the bravest man alive. You're not a coward, Wilbur Soot, because you have a heart of gold, and though, sure; you're flawed, we all are, and having a shit family doesn't define who you are."

"Really?" Wilbur asked, not really a question for himself, or at least at that time.

"Really. I mean, if it wasn't for you, we might not have been down this road."

"But I still should've come with you," Wilbur said again, trying to do anything to make himself the villain, "I shouldn't have stayed on that bloody island any longer than I had to."

"Partially, that was our fault. We never asked you to come, and I was so riddled with grief of myself that I didn't want you to come, as if some part of Techno would stick to you and infect us. No; there is only us to blame for that one."

"But Quackity—"

"No, Wilbur. I'm not going to let you craft yourself into something you're not. Let me tell you something you should listen to. From what I've heard myself, it seems that you were the first person that Tommy told about Mellohi way back when, right? Well, without that first step, I don't think he would've told anyone. Not Tubbo or Ranboo or even have the courage to leave. Without you he'd be all alone, and he could've ended up with a fate that was way worse. Without you, there would be no today, and you've got to realise that Wilbur. You aren't the bad guy."

"How do you know that when you barely even know me?" Wilbur snapped, his hands curling into tiny fists. Quackity took a deep breath in through his nostrils, then proceeded to play with a blade of grass.

"When I don't even know you?" he stopped, then continued, "You're telling me I don't know the boy who'd do anything to something who showed him the slightest bit of interest or dare I even say it love? I don't know the boy who'd turn screams into songs and fisticuffs into symphonies? I don't know the man who pit his life on the line just for a few people who 'don't know him'? If I don't know you, then I don't know myself."

"But how can you forgive me so easily when you hate me? I...well, y'know what I did."

"Wilbur...I have done and felt many terrible things. I've felt anger; so much of it that it could drown an empire. I've felt rage and if it was physical it could leave wounds. I've felt fear too—and none of that was more imminent or rising than when I went against Techno. Before. During. After. They all had their levels. And that was the same for every emotion a man can feel. I was so angry and bitter at the world around me, and I directed that at everyone. Even when we left and I found solace, it still remained, and it had until, well, a few weeks ago. When I saw something that was both so much bigger and smaller than myself. When that kid was in that bed, so damaged and broken and scarred, I suddenly realised all that past feelings needed to be let go, because if I still felt them after all these years he would too. And I had no right to direct all that to you, especially when you came back. I mean; I duelled fucking Technoblade for Thor's sake—I should've expected a few scars. So, in a way, we're both sorry."

Wilbur was silent, his gaze averted to a single blade of grass that swayed with the ever so gentle breeze. He sighed long and hard, then turned to meet Quackity's gaze with a simple nod. Quackity smiled, and Wilbur only noticed how much nicer it made him look (even if his face was scarred and covered in a large tattoo). Then, feeling there was no more to be said, Wilbur leaned against the wide willow tree again, his guitar in his hand and his fingers dancing across the strings. Then, Quackity also lay back and leaned against it, but as Wilbur played melodically, his head fell to grace Wilbur's shoulder as he strummed.

Over from them a distance not too far, Symphony and Nevadas curled up on the grass close together, synchronized breathing and eyes both closed as they took in the sun, though Nevada's mouth twitched with irritation as it hit him. Their tails edges closer together, then curled over one another like a knot.

The moment was peaceful, and Wilbur was grateful for it. It was nice to have a moment, just one or two not long, that could be entirely still and graceful like a rippleless pool. Though, when they were long they were beautiful.

It was good.

-----------------------------------------------------------THREE WEEKS LATER

It was the first time Tubbo had been back to L'Manberg since he had left, and it was the first time he had ever looked at it and felt at peace from the view.

It had been a good few weeks—or maybe even months?—since the battle, and Techno had been true to his word about what he would do to the island. It somehow looked brighter, though that didn't make much sense since it had physically changed, or at least not by much. Buildings had been renovated, there was more bustle in the streets and, of course, there were dragons, of course.

They flew around and roamed as they pleased, to the dismay of some citizens, but they were permitted not to harm them in any way. And from the renown dragon hunter Technoblade, that was a strange request but one they went along with without any second thoughts.

When Tubbo had arrived after feeling relatively better, he'd been tasked with trying to get people to move to Essempi, or to get people who were related to them to move to be reunited. All it took was to see a small girl with blonde hair and a daring grin to realise she was Dream's sister, and when he talked to their mother she was so happy to hear about her son she burst straight into tears and rushed to get to the island as quickly as she could.

After some work and many, many conversations, Tubbo decided to go and see his own family.

When Tubbo walked into the Great Hall—guided by Techno, who had greeted him with smiles and warm welcomes—Schlatt had been busy talking to someone else when he approached, but when they went quiet he had turned around and laid his eyes on Tubbo.

His Tubbo. Hair messy and dirty. Covered in dragon-scaled armour and gadgets. Face burned and scarred by something he hadn't been there to protect him from. His Tubbo, so different from when he had last seen him. As soon as he laid eyes on his Tubbo, Schlatt dropped everything and ran forward to embrace him in a firm, warm and protective hug. Tubbo could only sag in his grip, astounded, before his own eyes became drowned in tears and he embraced him too.

Schlatt, it seemed, had been rather busy since Techno and the other men had returned. Technoblade certainly had had someone in mind to be chief, and that person was Schlatt. Though he had initially refused, he'd been goaded into it by Techno and Puffy, who from being stuck in the cells with each other for days had grown quite friendly with one another.

And he had changed L'Manberg—well, Manberg, as Schlatt had changed it to (We won't have any more L's here!" Schlatt had said. Tubbo hadn't really got it, but Techno had chuckled). But in a way, Tubbo felt a new name was good for the island, after becoming something entirely new compared to what it was before.

After their emotional reunion, the two returned to somewhere Tubbo didn't really expect, which was the armoury. But he didn't question it, and somehow when Schlatt stood behind the counter and stroked his hands over the metal, he seemed more relaxed than he had before.

"Y'know, I wouldn't expect a weaponry to be somewhere calming," Tubbo said, Spins trotting by his side (who was looking the place strangely) and Schlatt looked at him with a toothy grin.

"Ah—I don't give two fucks," Schlatt said, though not angrily, "All these noblemen been sniffing my ass ever since Techno appointed me, and I'm sick of them. 'Do this, Chief!' 'Do that, Chief!' 'Do me, Chief!' So fucking annoying. Good to finally get away from them, at least for a few minutes."

"Power that bad?" Tubbo asked, taking a seat on the side. Schlatt looked at him again, and he felt his eyes touch his scar from afar. It had been easy to notice when someone had been blatantly gawping recently, and Tubbo hated the feeling.

"Don't get me started. Let's just say I definitely preferred my role before. Ah, I suppose someone had to do it, and that someone ended up being me."

"Is that so bad?" Tubbo asked, "To finally have an influence on what goes on around here? I don't know about you, but I'd love that chance."

"Well that's because you have a leader flair, boyo," Schlatt said, standing up and ruffling Tubbo's hair with a fond smile, "You'd be better at all this then I would."

Then Schlatt's eyes drifted to Spins, who stood at Tubbo's side watching him curiously. His hand drifted from the boy's head and tentatively reached out his hand, then brought it back to his side. Tubbo frowned and patted Spins' head himself.

"He don't bite," Tubbo said and Schlatt locked eyes with him. Sighing, Tubbo moved forwards and grabbed his hand, pulling it out and flattening it, "Just put it out like this, and if he likes you he'll come close."

Schlatt nodded, extending his hand out—Tubbo noticed it shake—and put it out towards Spins, looking to the ground like he didn't want to see his hand being bitten off. Tubbo grinned as the oh so threatening Razorwhip simply looked at the grubby hand in his face, sniffing it before pulling a face, but as he saw Tubbo's face he huffed and put his muzzle up to Schlatt's hand. The man took in a breath, looking at the dragon nervously before he started patting him and his face brightened.

"Hey; he's not so bad," Schlatt said, running his hand along Spins' side, "Beautiful creature...heh, funny how you chose him and all. Y'know?"

"I didn't choose nothing—especially not him. I found him, just lying there with a stake through his scales. Something just clicked in me, and I had to help him. At first it was out of selfishness, but then I started to care. The world spat him out unwanted and...I was there to take care of him when no one else wanted to."

"Kinda like you and me ain't it?" Schlatt said, and elaborated at the look on Tubbo's face, "I mean, no one else was willing to take care of ya—the both of ya—so I took it upon myself to make sure ya survived first dawn. And looking at ya now, I think I did a good job raising ya with who you've become today. What you've done. Makes your old man proud y'know."

Tubbo smiled, and as his smiled grew so did his longing for contact, so much that he took a small step forward, then a few more until he barrelled into Schlatt for the second time that day. He made a small noise of 'oof', but as Tubbo's arms squeezed around the man's waist, he could only chuckle and hug him back, his hands repeating the repetitive motion through his son's hair that he had done everyday since he had first held him in his arms.

They stood in silence for a moment, Spins watching fondly from where he sat, and even though the lack of noise would have been louder than life before, to Tubbo it was all he needed to keep the ringing away.

"I do love you y'know Tubs? You and Tommo. More than anything else in this whole bitch of an Earth," Schlatt said, and Tubbo's heart fluttered, his eyes pressed into the man's tunic but still wide, "You're the best sons I could've ever asked for, and I thank Odin everyday that you're mine. I may not have been the best father, but I had good intent...and I really did try. Do you get it?"

Tubbo sniffed, the tears staining Schlatt's shirt and wetting the pieces of hair between his eyes. He pulled away, wiping his eyes with his sleeves while looking at Schlatt with a wobbling grin.

"I know," he murmured, "I just needed to hear it one time."

Spins purred and nudged his hand over his head and Tubbo smiled at him. He looked around the shop with a sigh, seeing memories in every tool, ore and bench. Tommy may not have liked it much—and Tubbo hadn't at times—but the good times outshone the bad and he was happy to have spent parts of his life there. On the outside he was a Rider, sure, but in his heart he was truly a smith.

"Y'know, with me being chief n'all, there's no one to be in charge around here. No smiths to man the forge?" Schlatt said with a toothy grin and Tubbo's heart fluttered with pride, but he shook his head with a small smile.

"Thanks, but I have my roles back on Essempi now, and I can't leave them behind. Besides, I'm pretty sure we won't need them anymore."

"Whatcha mean?"

"Why do we need to make weapons to fight dragons anymore?" he raised and placed his hands on Spins' side, who bowed his head towards him, "They're not causing anymore trouble, and they aren't starting anymore wars. Even if there are any threats, the only weapons you need are them."

"I guess you're right," Schlatt said, rubbing his face, and though he seemed fine Tubbo could tell he was down.

"I'll still come and visit," he said, "Every chance I get. I'll get Tommy to come, maybe Ranboo too, and I promise there won't be a time when I don't again. Hey, maybe you could fundy yourself a dragon so you could come to us. Much quicker than a boat, and more caring."

"Nah," Schlatt said with a wave of the hand, "I couldn't deal with one of those myself. Don't fit me. Even if every dragon in the world was made of metal, they wouldn't be one that suit me. Though, I've sure thought that about a lot of things."

Tubbo grinned, then as he heard the roarings and growlings of dragons outside the shop his heart shook, but then he remembered, and he smiled once again. There were Nadders and Gronckles and Thunderclaws and all sorts, but it didn't matter what they were, only that they were there. They flew and soared, and people either watched them with fascination, disgust or personally attended to them.

Manberg felt more like home than ever before, only this time it wasn't his home any longer.

------------------------------------------------------------------THREE WEEKS LATER

Though the whole island had been renovated and under construction for the last few weeks and many buildings had been built, Ranboo definitely liked his house the best, and that wasn't just because it was his.

The size, the colours, the architecture. It was so him, and it had brought a smile to his face when he had first laid eyes on it and told 'It's yours.' It was wide on the inside but seemingly petite on the outer, two pillars f black and white standing around the corners and all walls painted with patterns and symbols Ranboo enjoyed (he was sure Tubbo or Tommy had done those for him).

Two Terrible Terror heads stuck out above the doorway, corresponding to either dragon and it had soon become a place for both of them to sit upon when the sun shone down at them. There had been a few times already when Ranboo had been looking around and had spotted the two of them lounging around on them; their tails dangling from the side and their heads out of sight

The inside of his hut was...gorgeous. One half was the interior fully white, the other black. It was easy to see which would become the side to stay in summer. Ranboo's personal items—including books, banners and decorations—were strung along in different places. A large table sat in the middle, various papers thrown on top of it.

There was an upstairs, and his bed followed the same pattern as the house and filled most of the room. There were two small nesting rocks for Chest and Pearl, but as soon as Ranboo saw them he knew that they wouldn't use them. They stuck to him most times of the day.

It wasn't just his hut that was built and done, either. Tommy's, Tubbo's, the rest of the riders. Other houses belonging to new tenants of the island as well, which Ranboo didn't know whether to be disappointed or happy about. On the one talon the island would be more lively and less lonely, but on the other talon it would mean more people staring at him and flocking towards them. At least he still had Chest and Pearl to comfort him.

There were feeding stations, perches, dens, even a small shop for dragon medical services. There was even a hall built into the mountain, almost like on L'Manberg (or as Tubbo had told him was it now called—Manberg). The island was now full, and Ranboo was glad to have just a little piece of it to himself.

Yet, among the houses and the island and the people, there was still something else Ranboo wanted. Something he longed for; something he had always longed for as long as he had been alive. He yearned to speak.

Ever since he had first opened his eyes, he was doomed never to open his mouth. Ranboo had been through every day with his tongue tightly wrapped by his own self idiocy, and he had either been ashamed or frustrated by it. People had mocked him. Cursed him. Steered clear of him. On his home island he had been shunned, and they would've had made him believe it was his fault.

And in Ranboo's mind, it partially was. After all, it wasn't like he was born to never speak. He'd just never tried. He could feel it on the tip of his tongue, a numbness that buzzed and tried to get out. Every word he said in his head was just trying to get out, and sometimes—all the time—he wished they would just come out, even in situations that they shouldn't.

So now, Ranboo sat; on a stool with his two dragons in front of him on the table. His hands were clasped around the rim of the chair, his leg bouncing to the rhythm of his anxiety. To others it was so easy, but to him it seemed like torture even trying to attempt the act. The reptiles were only sitting there, looking around with wide eyes at things they would never understand. Chest nudged Ranboo's elbow, looking up at him thoughtfully. Ranboo took in a breath.

"What am I doing?" Ranboo thought anxiously, "If it's never worked before, why would it suddenly work now? Dragons aren't magical, Ran. They might be fire-breathing lizards, but they can't heal a broken tongue and inability to communicate. That's my own doing.

Why don't YOU fix it then?

Ranboo snapped open his eyes and then stood, accidently knocking over the stool in the process but his mind wavered away from it. He looked down at his two dragons—two of the only things other than Tommy and Tubbo who had brought him joy in his life—and he thought about everything thing that had ever happened to him.

His childhood, his parents, being sold to crooks just so his father wouldn't have to look at him any longer, being rescued by Tubbo and Tommy, living the rest of his life on L'Manberg, dealing with every look, comment and neglection from people around him, learning of Tommy's secret, leaving L'Manberg, finding his dragons, fighting a war. Everything he had been through, yet Ranboo had never said a word the entire time.

Ranboo took another breath, then opened his eyes...and then his mouth.

He didn't know exactly what talking would feel like. Did you have to push the words out? Move your tongue to let them flow around? Use only your brain? Ranboo didn't know. So instead, he tried a mixture of both.

He fought as hard as he could with the silence in his throat, exerting himself almost forwards as if to make his voice box start working. Yet, there was no sound to be heard.(The only thing left he wanted was to be able to speak, and by the Gods would he make himself do it)

"Ah...ah...ah!" Ranboo uttered, shocking himself as noise; NOISE!; came from his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. Chest and Pearl jumped back in shock, sniffing around and looking at Ranboo as he smiled, laughing quietly as he was able to say one sound, "Ah, ah...I. I! I, I, I, I, I!"

Ranboo laughed aloud, moving around happily as he spoke. Chest and Pearl looked at him strangely, and Ranboo wiped the tear that fell from his eye as he picked the stool up and sat on it, his knees higher up and he placed his hands on the dragons to get them to face him. Then, he went for round two.

"I...I...ah...ah, ah, mm..mm..ah-m. ah-m. am. AM! Am, am, am!" Ranboo giggled, his smile getting so wide it almost pained him, "I...am. I am. I-am. I am....rrrrr, rrr-ah. ah! rr-ah...nn. r-ah-n. r..an. I am Ran."

(He could've stopped there. It was good enough, after all. A nickname, not one that his dragons would know, but he would.)

"I...am...ran...ran-buh. Buh-uh-uh-oo. B-oo. Boo. Ran-boo. I. Am. Ranboo," Ranboo said slowly, and his face changed from contorted to joy in a matter of seconds, "I am Ranboo! I am Ranboo! I AM Ranboo!"

Ranboo spun around in glee, waving his arms and jumping on the spot, barely noticing the tears that fell from his eyes, even when they left him blind. Then, Ranboo stopped and turned back to face Chest and Pearl, who both looked a bit unnerved. Ranboo moved back to sit in front of them, barely able to contain his excitement. He pointed his finger directly on his chest and smiled.

"I...am Ranboo," he said to them, and they almost seemed taken aback. Ranboo rubbed his hand over Chest's head and scratched Pearl's chin, "I am Ranboo. I am," He pulled the two in close, feeling the coldness of their scales but also the heat of their flames hidden away in their chests. He felt them nuzzle him with their muzzles, and Ranboo couldn't think of any dragons better. He pulled away and as soon as he did they leapt up onto his shoulders.

Ranboo cried out in surprise, then stumbled over from it. He laughed as they crawled all over him, trying to get to their places and this time his laughter was audible, echoing throughout the house and, at last; he could be heard.

Suddenly, the door opened and Ranboo's head spun; his heart pounding as he was scared someone had found him in this state. Instead, the only person who stood there was Tubbo, who was looking at him with questioning eyes.

"You alright Ranboo?" he asked, walking over to the scene and offering Ranboo his hand to help him up, "Thought I heard noises coming from here but...can't have been. You alright?"

Ranboo paused for a moment, wondering what to do before nodding, smiling at Tubbo. Tubbo nodded back, then with another moment of silence he began to walk away. Ranboo's heart panged. He wanted to talk to Tubbo, to show him what he had done, but the only thing he could say was his name and Tubbo was walking away and now there was no way for—

"Tubbo!" he spat out, stepping forward and taking in a breath as he realised what he had said. It had come out without him even thinking about it, and now Tubbo stood still, his back to Ranboo but he knew what his face would look like. Then, he turned—slowly—and his skin had changed tones to one paler. Ranboo stood with his hands clasped in front of his mouth, and he looked much meeker than the other.

"What...did you..." Tubbo whispered, but he couldn't even finish his sentence. Ranboo took a breath, than walked forwards towards Tubbo. The boy nearly made an effort to back away from him but Ranboo got there first. He grabbed his hands and smiled at Tubbo, then pointed at his own chest.

"I. Am. Ranboo," he said, and tough it was a useless thing to say Tubbo's eyes went wide with shock and his mouth went wide. Ranboo pointed at Tubbo and, "Am Tubbo," and even though he sounded crazy and not at all his level of intelligence, Tubbo smiled and exhaled.

"Holy shit," he whispered, a single tear falling from his eye, "You can speak. You can actually fucking speak!" he shouted, squeezing Ranboo's hands and jumping up and down in delight. Ranboo laughed, and this time Tubbo heard it and he smiled even more, "I mean, what else can you fucking say, or how long have you done this or—"

"Tubbo," Ranboo said softly and the boy stopped speaking, calming down and looking Ranboo dead in the eyes, "I only did a few minutes ago, because I realised how much I had gained, and how the only thing stopping me from having a perfect life was speaking, and now...that's over," he said with Ender, and Tubbo grinned.

"You have a nice voice," Tubbo said, then arched his eyes, "Not in a weird way or anything, just...it suits you."

"Thanks,"Ranboo signed, and they both laughed, not from humour but from a mutual understanding. Chest and Pearl scrambled back over to Ranboo, crawling up his legs and onto his shoulders, which made him giggle from the ticklish feeling it gave him.

Yeah, Ranboo knew he might not be able to speak fully or definitely fluently. He knew that he might still have to use Ender for some words, or maybe just for fun if it ever got that far. He knew he wouldn't be perfect, not by a long shot.

But in that moment right then, Ranboo had everything he had ever wanted. And he was happy.

---------------------------------------------------------------------- THREE WEEKS LATER

"Dear Sam,

Life on Essempi is better than ever. Everything is basically complete around here, and it's starting to become an actual society. People have began moving in, including everyone's families. You should have seen Dream's face when his mother and sister arrived. I wish I could've framed that moment forever, cause his face when he started crying was hilarious. Even Quackity agreed.

You'd love it here, even if it wasn't long. The amount of things for the dragons here is insane; perches, nests, feeding stations, stables! Dream even mentioned doing some kind of sport he was thinking of with them, but he hasn't shared his plans with me yet. I think it would be cool to do something like that every week or so , maybe on Thor's day or something like that.

I hope all is well for you in the Badlands. I know it was only a week since we exchanged letters, but you never know, hey? I'm glad you were able to meet up with Ponk again AND find a good place to live. I'll have to trust your word on Bad and the other two, but they do sound a bit weird. I mean, they don't have their own dragons but willingly accept them? BUT, I would love to see Lemon and examine him thoroughly. I mean, how does a Slitherwing not produce poison from his scales? It almost reminds me of Nevadas in a way.

I suppose I can do that when I see you again. And Fran too, of course. I do hope you'll consider coming here quite soon, as it's been a long time since I've actually seen you. So much has changed and happened ever since that cave, and I fear you might not recognise me again. Mellohi is looking forward to seeing you too. I told him we might see you again soon, and he got excited too! Really—it took me all night to get the slobber out of my suit, and Wilbur just watched! Useless prick he is.

Everyone is great, as well. Wilbur's definitely back to health now, and he spends ever moment he can practising his guitar-ing skills. He and Quackity have been hanging out more, which I suppose is great. Quackity's cool too, and he's fine as well. He probably, maybe, might just be my favourite of those five guys (and I never thought I'd say that). He's been more talkative recently, and after a good night I realised how funny he was. Karl is a close second, and though I talk to Dream the most, I don't really enjoy it as much as those two. He has a...chilling presence, and I always feel scared of disappointing him, which Tubbo told me is a load of rubbish (I don't think he likes Dream much). George and Sapnap I don't really mingle with, and I don't mind that honestly.

Niki is great; she's become the head of battle strategy, which she had to do a bit of head butting with Sapnap for, but I'm glad it was her instead. She's got a fiery spirit, that one. Tubbo and Ranboo are good too. Tubbo's doing better with his eye now, and his self esteem too. He went to visit L'Manberg not long back, and I think he and Schlatt had a good talk (speaking of Schlatt, he's now the chief of Manberg, as he calls it, which is good). Ranboo's been doing better with his speaking the last few weeks, which I'm still surprised by. Tubbo told me when he did, and I was as shocked as he was. He's been able to say a few sentences now, including names and questions. At this rate, we'll have him speaking like us by the end of the year. All the dragons are doing well too; especially ours.

I guess you'll want to know how I'm doing too. I'm good, I think. Me and Mellohi have been taking it slow; just taking a few flights or doing stuff around the hut. And speaking of the hut, it's weird being alone most of the time. I always slept with either Tubbo or Ranboo around, and now we all have our own places and the only one in my room is Mellohi, which is alright but I do wish we could all be together.

Also, sorry if this letter doesn't get here quite as on time. The Terrors aren't that good at tracking as we thought, and most of our tests have had them getting off track. As much as Ranboo claims their intelligence is high, I think he's just biased cause of Chest and Pearl. However, I do think it is a good idea, but don't tell him that.

Overall, everything is so much better now, and I'm so glad to be away from L'Manberg. Even if it has changed, this is where I belong, with people I belong with, and I think everyone is where they need to be. it's funny to think that all of this started with a last minute decision. Left or Right. Though, thanks for being there, Sam. You're one of the best people I ever met, and I'm glad I did meet you.

Best Wishes,
Tommy."

Tommy finished the rest of his letter quickly, the words spilling out as easy as the pencil on the paper. He chewed on the wooden pencil for a moment, then quickly scribbled something out and with that, it was done. He took the band from around his wrist and tied it around the rolled up letter, then stood up from the bricks and looked around.

The Terror Mail Tower was packed with little cubbyholes for the Terrible Terrors, most of them full but a few empty from dragons who were currently delivering something. The Tower was round and tall, sitting atop a small hill with stairs ascending on the outside. The only bit you could go in was the top, and that was where the dragons were. A brick well with a rope dangling above it sat in the middle, and Tommy hoped he wouldn't have to fall down it. It was empty, but sometimes the dragons would fly down it to get out if they needed to get down quickly.

Tommy stood up, holding his letter in the air and looking around at the dragons, most of who were napping or watching him with curious eyes.

"So, who's up to take this for me?" he asked loudly, getting many eyes upon him but no wings. Then, a small Terror with purple scales and wide eyes flew down towards him, perching on his outstretched arm. Tommy scratched his chin and put the letter in his mouth. Then, he took out a small piece of paper he had ripped out of the Book of Dragons and held it up to the Terror's nose.

"Smell this?" he asked, as he was sniffing it, "I'll call you......Pyro, cause if you can deliver this without fail, you might just get a promotion. But most importantly; my respect. Now, take this to Sam for me, will you mate?"

Tommy extended his arm, and on release Pyro took off out the window—going as fast as his tiny wings would take him. Tommy respected the little guy, and as he eventually went out of sight, he began to make his way down the spiralling staircase.

From atop the tower, Tommy could see everything. Buildings, mountains, crowds of people lining the streets and more than a few dragons covering the skyline. It was only around midday, yet there was still lots of action already.

When he reached the end of the staircase, Tommy saw Mellohi slumped over in the shade of the tower and when he saw Tommy he looked annoyed. The Triple Stryke growled and turned away, blocking his face with his tails. Tommy sighed and walked over to him, crouching down to be directly in front of him.

"Mellohi, you can't just pull a tantrum just cause you weren't allowed up the Tower," Tommy said with exasperation, patting the dragon on the side, "You wouldn't fit, and I needed some time alone to do my letter. Besides, can't we just go into town and get along?"

Mellohi side-eyed Tommy with an unimpressed look, but eventually sighed and rolled over, letting Tommy onto his back. Tommy grinned and climbed on top of it, patting him on the head with a sky smile.

"Much appreciated old boy," Tommy said cheekily, and Mellohi growled in frustration. He slowly stood up, whacking Tommy with his bundled up tails and pretending not to notice, but somehow Tommy did. Then, he decided to take off even more slowly, but after a while they were headed towards the town square.

They had to dodge many dragons in the air; so many there was almost traffic. A Gronckle or two, a few Nadders, even a Dramillion appeared nearly into them. Though, Tommy didn't mind it at all. If anything, it was amazing it even happened. A few people waved t him and said hello, and Tommy acknowledged them all. He never thought he would ever have an island of villagers he would actually like.

After a nice few minutes of flying, they eventually landed in the designated spot; the lake. Yes, there was another beautiful lake on this island, and Tommy had made it his job to make sure his friends visited it. It was also good because Wilbur's new favourite spot was a willow tree, and it happened to be right next to the lake. It was just a large, flat lake that sat upon a hilltop, surrounded by trees and shrubbery. Luckily, it seemed everyone was already there.

Wilbur sat under the branches of the willow on a small rock, his head down as he strummed his guitar and Symphony curled up around him. Tubbo and Ranboo scrambled around with their dragons, Niki and Zuko were in the water having a good time and Quackity...well...

Over the past few weeks, Quackity had gained a second shadow, and this one was more than colourful. He was a small lad called Charlie—with a Hobgobbler of his own—and it seemed he was in awe of Quackity ever since he arrived. He followed him around non stop, observing Nevadas or appearing out of nowhere like a weird little creature. Tommy thought he was funny enough but he irritated Quackity a bit (though Tommy knew Quackity enjoyed his company).

Tommy landed and got down, giving Mellohi a pat of affection before making his way over to Wilbur. However, the small little Hobgobbler came charging past him, almost knocking him over. Charlie came bounding over, picking the small little blob up and smiling at Tommy wide, adjusting his wide glasses.

"Sorry about that, Tommy-from-L'Manberg!" Charlie said cheerfully. patting the Hobgobbler on the head affectionately, though the creature only drooled, "Gillion has a lot of energy today!"

"That's fine, Charlie," Tommy said with arched eyes, looking back at Mellohi, who seemed disgruntled by the boy, "Though, you don't have to call me that, y'know? At all."

Charlie only smiled widely, then his ears twitched and he turned to look at Quackity, whose eyes were wide as he realised he had been noticed and quickly turned around.

"Wait, Quackity and Las Nevadas!" the boy called, dashing away with the small Hobgobbler jiggling in his arms, "Don't forget about meeeeeee!"

Tommy only chuckled at the scene, shaking his head in wonder and giving a wave to Niki. Then, he continued his walk to the tree, pushing the branches out of his way. Wilbur looked up from his playing and smiled up at Tommy, putting the guitar on his back and standing. Symphony gave a small yawn and stood too, brandishing her wings and calling out melodically.

Wilbur walked over to Tommy, giving him a pat on the back and the two dragons acknowledged each other as well.

"Alright Tommy?" Wilbur asked, "Did you send that letter?"

"Done and posted," Tommy said with a simple nod, and they walked out of the willow, "I just hope that Terror can do his job."

"Ah, I'm sure it'll be fine. They're not that stupid...I hope."

They walked towards the middle where everyone was gathered, and where some interesting communication were taking place. Tommy grinned as he saw Quackity reprimanding Charlie for something; a common occurrence recently. He also noted the two new Hobgobblers at his heels (where had they come from?).

"—his name is not Las Nevadas, it's just Nevadas, okay? Enough of this strange name stuff you keep sprouting, okay?" Quackity yelled, but Charlie only stood smiling widely, "C'mon Slime; how are people gonna understand you if you act like this."

"Slime?" Ranboo questioned and Quackity sighed, rubbing his neck.

"Nickname. Seemed fitting since it feels like his head might drip it at any given moment, right Slime?"

"That's right Quackity!" Charlie said happily, and Quackity seemed to wait for him to say something else, but he didn't. Nevadas growled at one of the Hobgobblers, who was currently trying to climb on top of him but then subsided.

"Where do those things keep coming from?" Wilbur whispered to Tommy, but the boy could only shrug.

"Right, are we doing this thing or not?" Quackity asked, mounting his dragon and giving them a bored look, "Cause I could be doing something a lot more interesting a long way away from here."

"Right, with all your friends and busy schedules?" Wilbur said sarcastically and Quackity glared at him, but when he turned around Tommy saw him smile.

"Just get those asses on dragons, or I'll leave now."

"Nah, you wouldn't pass up a chance to 'show everyone who's boss', would you Big Q?" Tubbo said and Quackity sighed.

"Don't you get on this to Tubbo," he groaned, and after a few minutes of laughing everyone got on their dragons, much to Quackity's pleasure. Then, they finally took off the ground and soared away.

"Wait—WHAT ABOUT MEEEEEEEEE!" Charlie shouted from the ground, surrounded by a few more Hobgobblers but left abandoned, "Aw shucks..."

"He didn't get on did he?" Quackity asked from the sky, looking around, "Thank the gods..."

Tommy laughed, patting Mellohi a sharing a knowing look, "Okay mate; let's send these guys falling on their arses."

Suddenly, they began to speed up and take pace, but so did everyone else. It was a race after all. Tommy grunted as Quackity and Nevadas whacked into them, spitting raspberries and laughing as they took the lead. Tommy growled and stood, holding Mellohi's horns and directing him to where they needed to go. Wilbur and Tubbo and Niki all came past, everyone having their own minuets in the lead before they were knocked out or pushed past.

Down on the island, people watched as they raced, cheering and enjoying the view of a dragon race. Maybe this was just the start. A young woman who had newly moved to the island by the name of Hannah looked up at them, her Snaptrapper in front of her and currently being groomed. She groaned and moved to follow them, shaking her fist at them.

"Hey, you could've told me about a race!" she shouted at them, though they couldn't hear her, "We'd dominate them, wouldn't we Roses?"

Yet up in the sky, the only thing the riders were thinking about were winning that race, beating their friends and riding those dragons. Each one had the motive to win, and they wouldn't get held back at all to win. They would win. They would ride. And they would soar as far as they could.

Because THIS is Essempi.

Granted, it's a bit under construction and only just learning how to survive, but it's home to many regardless. The locals are as friendly as can be...as long as you don't do anything TOO drastic. The youngest have been through the most, and the oldest know that they are the ones to listen to in large matters.

Those who attacked them? Relentless and totally crazy. But those that stopped them? Even more so! They may be small in numbers, and most may just come for an easy life, but those who truly live with adventure in their hearts know that they stand for something far bigger than themselves or anything the world pits against them. And bit by bit, they will change the world as a voice of peace and strength.

Because on Essempi, well, they have something others dare not to, and something others would not be able to understand like they do. Because they...have...DRAGONS!

And no matter the enemy, that is something you can never take away from them.