Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The screaming infested the air. Houses burning down as the couple with their baby ran from the scene. Raiders killing on sight, taking the children away. An arrow pierced the head of the father, and the baby was ripped from the arms of the mother before the blade came rushing down to her throat.

War was a constant in every nation. War was the destruction of that which created life. War was that which was used as a last resort. War was that which forged cold-blooded soldiers. War was it's only constant.

War had arrived at their borders a couple of years ago, a conflict started by the flames of conquest, being started by disagreements and lands. The Antarctic Empire and the Kingdom of Eseempee had been at war for a couple of years now, in constant bitter rows for centuries. King immortal and Sovereign mortal were constantly at odds despite the fact that they had known each other since the birth of the mortal Sovereign.

And now they were here, the King on his throne and his two sons at his side. Listening to what their allies had to say, standing in the middle of the huge, imposing throne room. The walls stretched stoically the color of snow and pillars with handcrafted detailing supported the balconies of the expansive and intimidating throne room. Quartz made up the primary building material, accompanied by details made of pure gold, and the flag of the empire hung immovably behind the King's throne... many said that in that room sat a celestial being that protected them from all evil and danger -which was hardly true since the war still hit them mercilessly-.

Guards fiercely protected their leaders; protected by netherite armor with the coat of arms of the empire forged in the center of their breastplates. Each and every one of them swore their lives to the king and the people... they would take a sword to the heart to protect their King. 

"We managed to contain the Esemmpee forces on the northern border. We are still counting the casualties in combat and taking inventory of what was lost" announced one of the generals.

The King listened attentively. He knew war, he had been forged in them, he had grown up among them. War was cruel, it was daunting and mostly unjust, taking the lives of the innocent and those forced to fight. 

"The city is safe for the time being, and it will not be necessary to evacuate," the general finished.

Niki is one of the oldest generals in the kingdom. A woman who swore her life to the service of the King who was welcomed with open arms after showing her performance as a leader during raids to dismantle illegal underground battle rings. With black hair that reached her shoulders, dark eyes full of determination, and white skin infested with scars... Niki was one of the generals closest to the Commander of the Imperial Forces, being the bearer of intelligence and determination like no other, she was one of the best strategists in the kingdom. She was sweet and kind, soft-spoken, and with a born talent for baking; being -silently- assigned as the person who brought desserts to the high command meetings, all this when she started showing up with sweets and cookies since the first day of her service as General, and since then desserts were not missing at the meeting table.

It was like having savagery and sweetness in the same person.

"Thank you, General Niki" the woman bowed before stepping aside, placing herself at the foot of the throne stairs, just a few feet away from the Lord Commander of the Empire's Forces.

The heavy doors of the throne room were opened, letting in an ally known to all. Those present bowed at the new presence in the room.

"Governor Eret, welcome." expressed the Antarctic monarch, his tone neutral and gentle.

Eret danced gracefully as she made her way in front of the Emperor. Long white dress was accompanied by a black corset with gold embroidery, a heavy and thick red cloak hung elegantly from her shoulders, secured by the strong silver chain that rested on her chest, protecting her from the rugged cold of the north. Soft cloth pants hugged her legs, and heeled boots made of leather reached her knees. Gold jewelry decorated her body, and dark glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. A delicate gold crown rested on her fine, silky brown hair.

The governor was accompanied and protected by two soldiers, both of whom had their faces covered by their helmets, which covered their heads entirely.

"Your Imperial Highness," bowed the ruler gracefully. "It is a pleasure to finally see you after months of communicating through letters."

"Same to you, Eret" they had known each other for years and formalities were not necessary. After all, they were allies in this war for power and land that threatened every existing kingdom on the continent. "I heard that the battle was savage, but that we were victorious without a problem. I must say that your soldiers are efficient in their work."

"That is a compliment, Emperor Philza," he replied in a tone full of respect. "Although we are not many, my soldiers are worth ten men."

The Emperor's eldest son, Technoblade, laughed lowly at such a statement, clearly knowing that L'manburg's soldiers were nothing more than cowards who only cried in the trenches of the battlefield just before they were killed for their clumsiness. Still, he did not comment on the matter, being aware that politics and dialogue were in the lead at the time. Cowards, cowards, weaklings, cowards, cowards , the voices said in unison, mocking the soldiers of their allies. 

Technoblade received a warning glance from his father, who - being basically beside him - noticed the suppressed laughter that erupted from his side. But Niki also seemed to suppress her laughter at Eret's statement, for when the Commander fixed his gaze on the General, amusement and derision was certainly manifest in his eyes. Both leaders looked at each other for a few seconds, trying not to laugh at that statement.

The Antarctic Empire was extremely well known, not only for its vast territory that extended for miles conquering the entire north, or for the inclement cold weather that reigned over the land for six months of the year. But also for how difficult it was to defeat one of their soldiers, who were fierce on the battlefield, and a clear death sentence for those inexperienced in the art of battle. For this and many other reasons, the Empire has stood firm for centuries if not millennia since Philza assumed the throne.

It was better to be allies of the Empire than enemies of the Empire's Emperor.

"I have to admit that Prince Technoblade did an impeccable job leading his troops and-" continued Eret, who was immediately interrupted by the Emperor.

"Spare me your flattery, Eret," the Emperor's voice went from as soft as cotton to as cold as snow, causing the atmosphere in the hall to change drastically, making one of the soldiers protecting the governor tense up. The other remained immovable. "Everyone here knows that my eldest son, Technoblade, is one of the best or perhaps the best combat leader on the entire continent, and that he has never lost a battle."

Philza, the Emperor of Antarctica, was a leader with a heart of gold who burned with passion for his people. Despite holding the throne for centuries, his passion for leadership would not weaken or pay for anything in this world we barely know. Always invoked dialogue to resolve conflicts, and if necessary, he would resort to bloodshed to protect his family and people. Still, one of the things he hated most in this world were leaders who practically kissed the ground where he and his children walked, flattering them at every opportunity just to keep afloat alliances that would sooner or later sink to the bottom of the ocean of politics.

In this case, Eret was the governor of a small kingdom that had barely even declared its presence in the power game. Presenting such shaky foundations that at any moment the little country would sink into ruin, and Philza had decided in the silence of his office, that he would not reach out when L'manburg asked for help in the midst of collapse. After all, one less ally would make no difference to the Empire's forces. 

Eret smiled nervously, tense at the sudden change in the atmosphere due to her comment. "Do you have anything else to say?" the soldiers of the King's Royal Guard taking a defensive stance. His Imperial Majesty's irritated tone was enough to let them know that the governor's presence was no longer welcome in the throne room and that he was to be removed immediately if he refused to leave or was simply stupid enough not to understand the Emperor's silent threat.

"Before I retire, I have a small present for you." The tension remained present, "It was a gift from an old friend, but I believe I would serve more efficiently under your command."

This caught the attention of the Emperor's second son, Wilbur, who was reading nonchalantly, sitting on his throne right next to his father's. The prince's throne was less extravagant and ostentatious, but he was still doing his duty to let those present know that he was the Crown Prince of the Empire. 

"We don't need you wasting your soldiers, Eret" Technoblade spat in a monotone voice that bounced off the high walls of the hall. He simply did not want L'manburg soldiers among his ranks, not after witnessing such a disheartening sight on the battlefield.

"This is not one of my soldiers, Prince Technoblade," the governor clarified, trying not to sound brusque. "It is more of a weapon than a soldier, even so, it is of no use to me and would be better off under the command of the Antarctic Empire."

"This... gift, is it a person?" the voice of Crown Prince Wilbur made its presence known for the first time, dancing in the air like a siren's song or fragile silver threads ready to become needles that would stick in the body of whoever heard it.

"It's more of an object, an attack dog so to speak." The Emperor's wings flapped slightly in distaste at the use of the word object to define a person. "Come closer, dog."

Technoblade's lips were pressed into a tense, disgust-filled line at that command, Wilbur's eyes were invaded with venom, and Philza's body language changed from irritated to disgusted. Niki on the other hand, was ready to give the order to remove the governor from the room. So many years fighting for the freedom of humans and hybrids, only for there to still be living beings that were treated as objects.

One of the soldiers accompanying the governor took two steps forward, but not enough to get in front of Eret. His movements were robotic, inhuman somehow. "Take off your helmet," the governor ordered in a firm voice. The soldier held the helmet in both hands, sliding it out of his sight, leaving his face exposed; causing obvious gasps and low screams filled with disgust. The helmet rested on the side of his hips, being held firmly by one of his hands. "This is my gift, an attack dog. Loyal and obedient, a killing machine on the battlefield. Any command you give will be carried out efficiently, he would even throw himself off the highest balcony of the castle if ordered to do so."

Whispers of disgust turned to shouts, demanding justice and release for the soldier who was offered as an object as if he were property. The Emperor's hands became fists fueled by the rage he felt, resting in his lap, keeping his integrity intact. Wilbur gasped in outrage, watching the soldier with pain and guilt. Niki's dark eyes were wide with horror at what was present before her eyes, hand firmly on the hilt of her sword and ready to give whatever orders were necessary.

The screams turned into chaos, demanding the execution of the governor, demanding order. Kill him, kill him, blood, protect, blood, blood, blood for the god of blood, the voices cheered, making the bloodlust begin to take hold in Technoblade.

In front of them stood a soldier... a bloody teenager. His face was emotionless, completely frozen in an expression of indifference and coldness, his eyes were blue... but they were extremely opaque, absent of any life, cold as a tundra forest.

It was as if life had been completely drained from his body, leaving only a puppet that was effortlessly controlled. 

Scars were present on his face, but the most striking were the scars that were exposed on the soldier's neck - since the rest of his body was covered by armor - which had an ancient appearance, as if they had been caused years ago and with constancy. Gold locks were pulled back into a low ponytail, keeping his hair out of his face with the exception of a few locks that framed his pale skin.

What infuriated the Emperor most was not the fact that he was being given a human being, no, no, no, no, it was the fact that this one was breathing so slowly and carefully that it looked as if he wasn't breathing at all. As if it were a living dead body. By simply raising his hand, the cries of the nobles and witnesses present were silenced, making the silence feel suffocating.

He was just a child, a damned child.

"What's your name, kid" Philza asked, trying to disguise his growing anger with kindness. After all, the soldier was just a kid.

But he received no answer.

" It has no name." Eret replied, causing Wilbur to speak up, almost rising from his seat.

"What do you mean he has no name?!" despair was present in the crown prince's voice. "Don't tell me you didn't even have the decency to give it a name."

"There's no need for that… Prince Wilbur." Eret suppressed the obvious fear coursing through her veins. She knew that the Emperor and his troops did whatever was in their power to ensure the freedom of both humans and hybrids alike. But this... this wasn't even human, it was just a battlefield weapon. "It needs no name, after all, it's nothing more than a weapon."

Technoblade, blinded by the screams of the infernal chorus in his mind, was stopped by his father before he did anything stupid. "We will accept your gift, Eret."

The governor's body seemed to relax at the acceptance of her gift. Relief washed over her mind, and it seemed she could finally breathe. She hadn't expected the Empire to accept her gift, much less knowing the history of dismantling subway battle rims.

"Although, I am certainly curious," the Emperor expressed calmly, projecting his words cautiously. "How is it that you obtained in your possession such a... weapon."

"I am sorry to be a disappointment, Emperor. As I said, it was a gift from an old friend who no longer saw any useful use for it so decided to dispose of it. And I'm afraid I possess no information about its history or much less its provenance."

Philza studied the situation cautiously. One of the goals of his reign was to destroy all human and hybrid trafficking networks used to supply illegal battle rings and the mere fact that a soldier who was barely a teenager was standing motionless and showing no signs of reactions made his blood boil with rage. The Emperor was currently navigating blindly, treading familiar but unfamiliar ground. 

"Well," the Emperor stood up, causing everyone present to straighten up to dispatch his majesty. "I think that's all for today. Again, thank you for witnessing today's convocation. And Eret," the governor listened attentively to the Emperor. "I would like to see your little... toy in action."

"With pleasure, your majesty. You may report to our camp tomorrow or the day after, I assure you won't be disappointed."

Phil nodded in response. "Then we'll see you tomorrow, Governor."

The Emperor and company descended the steps of the platform that held high the throne of the king and his sons. Niki and the other guards escorted the Emperor off the scene, making sure everything was secure.

The Royal Family was determined about one thing, bring freedom to this child soldier that they just met.

Chapter Text

Needles stuck into its body. Strange liquids are injected into its veins. It convulsed as the liquid burned through its body like fire burned the forests. It couldn’t scream; it wasn’t allowed to. Everything burned, everything burned, everything burned.

PLEASE MAKE IT STOP! 

The training arena was wide and covered with dirt and mud created by the snow and the constant traffic through the arena. The air was frigid, as it was most of the days on the cold territory of the Antarctic. Even during snowy summers, the cold stayed but was not as cold as in the inclement winter months.

Soldiers trained among themselves; L’manburg generals talked in small circles and assessed the soldiers on training. Everything was systematic but disorganized. Something that Technoblade hated.

He liked order, systematic order. He liked well-trained soldiers who would kill on the first attempt, not cowards like the soldiers of L’manburg were. 

As he walked through the arena, alongside his father and brother, protected by a group of guards, he thought of the reason why his father accepted Eret’s offer. 

A child. A fucking child was given away like a dog or an object. And he was furious about it.

Child soldiers weren't something unusual in foreign countries or empires. It happened all the time, especially in the Greater Esempii, where children would be taken away from their families or sold by them to serve against their will. And the worst part is that it was very common on lands outside the Antarctic territory. His father, Emperor Philza, has talked many times with Sovereign Dream, the ruler of the Greater Esempii, about putting measures against the usage of child soldiers on the battlefield. But the ruler avoided any type of communication with them, and now, they have been waging war against each other.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” bowed Eret as she appeared in their field of vision. 

“Eret,” his dad nodded at her presence. “So, this is your camp, I believe.”

“That would be correct, your Imperial Majesty.” Eret’s words were controlled and measured, like he was trying not to say something wrong to him and his family. Like he was trying to do damage control.

“We are here to see your… weapon.” That last word came out of his mouth with venom. “So please, lead the way.”

“Of course, of course, Prince Technoblade. Please, follow me this way to the bleachers.”

They made their way to the wooden bleachers, up to the highest one of them. Technoblade thought of this as humiliating. His father deserves a balcony up in the sky where he could watch the sparing from a distance, safe from any flying arrow or spear. Even when his father was a golden Emperor, people hated him for foolish reasons. 

“Dog!” she called with a strong voice, making Wilbur wince at the noise and word. It only made Technoblade’s blood boil. 

The named appeared. He wore a loose white blouse tucked into brown pants. Military boots dressed his feet as the pants were tucked inside of them. His expression was blank, his body was relaxed, and his breathing was slow and almost undetectable. This… child, didn’t even seem bothered at the name he was just being called.

Perhaps he didn’t know any other.

“As I said a couple of days ago, this is a weapon that was gifted to me,” expressed Eret as she sat close to them but not quite close. “It is agile and really fast.”

The child looked underweight, swimming in his clothes. His instincts were going crazy. Protect, protect, protect, the voices chanted. Skin tight against his cheeks, he looked dead.

“Come on dog! Show us what you got! Don't kill them! Just disarm them,” Eret gave the order.

Soldiers from the L’manburg army surrounded the child. This one didn’t even take a defensive stand. The soldier walked warily around him—five of them against one single person. The first one had a sword that seemed sharpened.

“Why is the sword sharpened,” demanded Technoblade. Eret just glared at him. “I asked a question.”

“Well, it is not like it is going to get damaged. If that is what are you so afraid of” commented Eret before stopping speaking.

The second soldier had a spear—the third another sword, and the fourth a bow and arrow. The fifth, well, he had his fists.

The kid didn’t move as the first soldier lunged forward. And this one found himself disarmed with a single move. The kid was fast and precise, each movement carrying a speed and strength that seemed inhuman. Tecnoblade has only seen this type of fighting once.

The second soldier threw his spear with strength. But the kid dogged it with speed and lunged forward to the second soldier. The third lunged forward as well, trying to stab the kid with his sword, but failed as the kid took the body of the second soldier and covered himself with it. Making the soldier stab his comrade. This one screamed in pain as it dropped to the ground and it started to die slowly. The soldier who just stabbed his comrade looked at the kid with rage and longed forward in a feral way.

Technoblade looked to the side, finding his dad staring at the kid with worried yet determined eyes. He knew that his father’s instincts were going wild, and this one was trying to suppress them. Eret seemed entertained, and Wilbur wasn't even looking at the fight.

Screaming took Technoblade out of his thoughts. He looked back, and now all the soldiers were on the floor, bleeding and dying, as the kid threw the spear towards the archer, killing it.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” screamed Eret with hysteria. “I told you to disarm, not to kill you useless piece of shit!”

The cold, dead eyes of the kid bore into Eret’s brown ones. Making her shiver at the eye contact. Even Eret feared this kid, one that was under her command, just like a dog.

“I think I’ve seen enough,” the Emperor stood up, stretching slightly his wings. “Thank you, Eret. For showing me your gift. Now, if you excuse me, I have a kid to take care of.”

“A kid? He is not a kid! He is a weapon! A trained attack dog!”

Technoblade unsheathed his sword and pointed at Eret. “How dare you raise your voice to your Imperial Majesty” he growled.

“You are not my ruler, Emperor.” Eret was furious. Firsts white. White eyes bored into the Emperor’s ice-blue ones.

A spear came piercing the air and pierced through the side of the Governor, making her drop to the floor. Blood spilled from her mouth as she dropped to the bleachers, crown falling from her head, rolling down the bleachers to the now bloodied ground. Philza had his eyes wide open and instantly looked for the source of the spear, and then he found it. 

The kid had just killed Governor Eret of L’manburg coldly and without fear.

The soldier that surrounded the training grounds ran towards the kid with anger. Their ruler was just killed in front of their eyes.

“Get out of there, kid!” Wilbur yelled with panic. Commander Technoblade and the other guards moved quickly to evacuate both the Emperor and the Crown Prince out of there. And the last thing Wilbur saw before getting pulled away from the scene was the kid taking the sword —of the now-deceased L’manburg soldier and slicing the throat of another soldier open.

As they were pulled away, he could hear the screams in the distance.

—

The kid dropped the sword to the floor. Dozens of bodies surrounded him. He took the crown that rested at his feet with both hands. He examined the object, and simply, with blank eyes, he held it to his chest and began walking towards where he saw the Emperor last.

—

“This is madness!” yelled the Crown Prince, hands resting on the table in front of him. 

They were standing inside of a tent not far from the L’manburg camp. The place was heavily guarded, especially after what had just happened hours ago.

“He just- killed her in the spot!” he was panicking. Wilbur have never experienced— or better said, seeing violence so close before. He had seen duels before, yes, but they were between soldiers who trained for a common goal. 

“Wilbur, I need you to calm down.” said the Emperor with a patient and tired voice. 

“Father is right, Wil. You need to calm down.”

“Calm down?! Says the two of the most experienced people in warfare!” he threw his arms around, overdramatizing his words. “I have never been this close to this amount of violence! I am a scholar! Not a bloody infantry soldier!”

“Wil-” the sound of yelling interrupted the Emperor’s words. “Don’t move”

Commotion filled the area. Technoblade unsheathed his sword as he approached the entrance of the tent, followed by Phil. The Commander exited the tent completely, the Emperor not far behind. And the Crown Prince couldn’t fight both the anxiety and curiosity. He stepped out of the tent, and his eyes widened at what he saw just a couple of feet away from him.

The kid, the same one who killed L’manburg’s governor, was standing right in front of them. Multiple swords pointed at him, and this one didn’t seem to care. He was drenched in blood from head to toe. A dead stare, void of any emotion, looked at them.

He noticed something in his hands. And he held it high while kneeling in front of the Emperor.

Eret’s Crown.

The Emperor observed the child with curiosity. Why did he betray orders? Why did he kill the governor? He belonged to you the moment he was offered to you on that throne hall, his mind supplied. He took the crown off the hands of the kid. “You may rise,” and this one did without reply. “Let’s get you a change of clothes.”

And Wilbur couldn’t believe what he just heard. He knew that his father had a soft spot for situations, but this? This was a little too much.

—

The office was warm with the fire of the fireplace. He extended his wings one, two, and three times, trying to shake off the tension. He looked at the kid in front of him. The one that just killed the Governor without mercy, without twitching, a day ago. They had come back to the palace, the kid escorted by the royal guards, and this one didn’t even complain about it. Not even a word came from his mouth.

Technoblade stood right beside him, protecting him from the kid. His son, Wilbur, sat in one of the chairs facing his desk, back not entirely on the kid. He was still scared, yes. But he felt more safer in the palace than in that tent in the middle of the fields.

“You are aware that you just killed the leader of a nation,” he spoke with tranquility, trying to make sure that the kid understood his words. Phil didn’t even bother to speak to the kid after this one offered him Eret’s crown.

There is a time and place for everything.

The kid nodded once in acknowledgment. And Phil sighed at the lack of words. He didn’t know what he was dealing with, but one thing was for sure: he was dealing with more than he could manage.

“Do you have a name?” the kid seemed to hesitate before shaking his head. No name, then. “Family alive? Somewhere to go?” the kid shakes his head once again.

And Phil sighed once again. “Tell me, kid, where are you from?” but no answer was given. At this point, he thought that the kid was mute or something. Had no ability to talk or refused to. “We are getting nowhere.”

Wilbur stood up and approached the kid, who didn’t move a muscle. The Crown Prince didn’t know where he found the courage to be that close to the kid. Technoblade’s hand went straight to the hilt of his sword. “You must have a name… you look like your name starts with a T.” his son was lurking like he wanted to play with his food. Analyzing the presence of the minor, “Let me see… Theodore, Tomathy, Thomas, Tommy…” the kid eyed him at the mention of the name Tommy. “Tommy then.” he smiled at the success.

“Well, Tommy,” spoke Phil, making the kid look at him. “Welcome to the Empire.”

The kid… Tommy nodded at the greeting. “You were a gift, as you know. But we don't really have anything for you to do,” said Phil as he got into a more comfortable position on his chair. “So-”

“He can be Wilbur’s personal guard,” said Technoblade, interrupting his father, who looked at him, trying to find an explanation for the proposal. “The vacant has been open for a year now, and Wilbur is known to be picky with his guards. Let's make the kid be his guard.”

“I refuse! I won't let someone younger than me protect me!” protested Wilbur.

“You literally just named him,” said Technoblade back, making Will shut up.

“It seems like everything is set then!” exclaimed Phil with emotion as he clapped his hand to get everyone’s attention. “Tommy, please follow Technoblade to your new room; he will provide you with the uniform.”

The kid simply bowed deeply, with respect in his posture. Abiding for the order that was just given. His really dulled eyes and hair were just like his own.

He was so young. He wasn’t older than fifteen. Maybe he was even younger.

Phil’s instincts went to the roofs. Claiming the kid as part of his flock, he couldn’t just pick a kid gifted to him and wrap it on sheets and blankets. He was the Emperor, for the gods' sake! He couldn’t act like that.

“Please, Techno, show him where to go.”

Techno bowed at his father before approaching Tommy. “This way.”

A crow sat on the windowsill and watched as everything happened. 

Perhaps this could be good, or perhaps this could be bad. He didn’t know, but one thing was for sure: he was going to help the kid heal. No matter the cost.

Chapter Text

Hey everyone!

Its been a while. I know I said I wasn’t going to continue my works, but I found myself wanting to write this stories and finish them. It took a lot of thought, but I have made my decision.

I will resume my works after my summer starts, and I hope to develop my stories even further.

I want to clarify that every work I do, that includes controversial people (Wilbur, Dream, etc), is inspired, only and strictly, on the characters themselves, not the person.

With that said, I hope to see y’all soon!

Dearly,

Rydton