Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I huffed under the strain of the barrel I was carrying, the contents heavy and almost completely consuming my concentration trying not to overbalance and drop it on the ground or myself.

I grunted and groaned my way to my destination, gaining looks from villagers either passing me or being passed that basically spelled disapproval out on their foreheads. I did my best to ignore them, trying not to pay any mind to how easily most of them would be able to do this.

Finally, the blacksmith’s shop came into view, and I sighed in relief as I made it through the door.

“You back yet mate?!”

I groaned something long suffering in response to the call from somewhere within the shop, and received a hearty laugh in return. “I was beginning to think you got stuck somewhere.” Philza continued to yell from a back room as I dumped the barrel on the ground where it needed to be.

“Not this time, thankfully.” I finally called back, grimacing as I followed the responding laugh into the smithy, where Philza Minecraft was stoking a fire, preparing for more work. The blond smiled at me as he let go of the bellows handle, graciously letting my disgruntled expression be.

“I take it you’ve got enough time to make it home by nightfall?” The soot blackened man asked, and I sighed, shifting nervously. “No… Which actually works out pretty well because, I’m staying out here.” I answered, watching anxiously as Philza’s shoulders tensed, his back to me as he messed with some scraps of metal. Philza sighed deeply, an unhappy frown on his face when he turned around that made my chest tighten with guilt, not that I’d ever tell him that. He’d take it too much to heart.

“Ranboo.. you’re too young for that kind of thing-”

“Everyone else is younger than me-!”

“-and you don’t have nearly enough training-”

“I would if you trained me-!”

“-and you’d give your father a heart attack if he found out you were outside at night!”

I frowned and turned away, hugging myself.

My father is infinitely busy with almost everything but me, he wouldn’t even know I was gone.

Nonetheless, I tried to level with the worrying blacksmith. “Phil.” I started, and he gave me a long groan, like he already knew exactly what I was going to say. Which he did, but that’s beside the point. “I’m almost an adult, I’m going to have to pull my weight around here at some point, you’ve got to let me start fighting!” I continued, following the blond as he wandered around the shop, collecting tools.

“If I don’t fight no one’s ever going to respect me.” I added, knowing how the older man was going to roll his eyes and mutter about Idiots and their “big sword = big respect”, which never failed to make me laugh.

“Ranboo, you pull your weight just fine right here. Where you’re safe, and not scaring your family members half to death.” Philza told me sternly, setting down the stupidly heavy-duty blacksmiths tool he’d been holding as he approached me to grab my shoulders with a firmness that conveyed what he wanted to say.

I don’t want you to get hurt. You frighten me going out there. Don’t end up like me. I care for you.

I sighed and looked down at the floor, at Philza’s wooden leg that creaks when he walks, and his metal arm with the interchangeable hand. Both of which he’s been missing since before I met him. Both of which he lost to our nightly enemy.

My eyes stayed on the ground as I nodded slowly, unhappy. Philza wasn’t happy either, but he was appeased, and that was enough for him to pat my hair and send me on my way, urging me to run and make it home before nightfall.

I did end up jogging home, intending to stay the night like I’d been asked.

There’s no kind of guilt that compares to disappointing or heaven forbid frightening the man who treats you like family while your own is busy doing other things.

But, never let it be said that life is kind to me.

Because nothing has ever turned out the way I planned for it too.

Chapter Text

Screams and yells echoed outside regularly, and they made it difficult to sleep at night, so I usually stayed up reading. But the voices and sounds of angry people and disgruntled animals seemed closer than usual tonight, so I thought, just looking outside wouldn’t hurt, right?

I climbed down the stairs and made my way to the front door, listening as I opened it just enough to see what was going on.

A widely opened jaw and flames rewarded my curiosity, and I slammed the door closed on the angry dragon on my doorstep, chittering nervously about the massive beasts and their fire breath.

I stumbled outside the burning house after the beast passed, carefully dodging people left and right as they ran around like headless chickens after the dragons crossing the sky, the beasts lighting our homes on fire and stealing our livestock.

Just your normal Thursday.

Apparently, ducking and weaving wasn’t quite enough to stay out of the way though, because I got knocked into by 4 different men and women trying to get to my destination. Each told me to go back inside, to which I ducked my head and ran faster, and I stumbled into the blacksmith with my braid messy and dirt on my cheek.

Philza almost buckled upon seeing me.

“Ranboo! What’re you doing here?!” He fussed, circling me rapidly enough to make me dizzy; searching for injuries. I shifted, antsy, and rubbed at my cheek. “The house got set on fire.” I mumbled, watching the rising number of people demanding assistance behind the blond through the shop window.

He paid them no mind, but I pushed the worried man away and went to go get started on the building amount of work behind my mentor.

I’d die of embarrassment if I ever called him that to his face.

It took him two hours, but Philza finally wound down enough for the two of us to fall into a working rhythm, constantly receiving and repairing tools and weapons.

Philza’s younger brother even came by at one stage, he’s a reckless boy; he broke his bucket swinging it at a dragon when he was supposed to be putting out a fire. I will never truly understand Tommy, I honestly I won’t. His friends too, who also claim to be related to the blacksmith. I don’t entirely believe it.

Philza shooed me out of the main shop and ‘Out from under his elbows’ after I was done fixing up Tommy’s bucket and letting him feel like he was arguing with me, which gave me time to finish up working on something special.

A crossbow, designed to fire a bola, or a series of ropes tied together and weighted at the ends by stones, instead of an arrow, which is much more effective than any arrow against a dragon.

Eventually though, my mind did wander. To our village pest in fact.

Dragons.

Each one comes with its’ own set of problems, some more similar and others downright strange. Killing them, was the only thing that mattered around here.

Silverfish. Small, grey. Covered in spines and made hissing sounds. Restricted to flying less than three feet off the ground. Real pain in the ankles. ‘You exist’ level respect.

Exoskeletons. Bone white, with protective armour that resembles its skeleton, and spines that it flung off it’s tail at will. Functional society member level respect.

Spider Dragons. Coal black and grey striped with red eyes, with two sets of wings and a venomous bite. If it didn’t catch you with it’s white-hot fire first. Acknowledgment level respect.

Half Drowns. Gross green colour, with two heads. One spat scolding water, the other fire. Both sides of the dragon were different, looking like two dragons that were sewn together. Known fighter level respect.

Creepers. Bright green and white markings. Beady black eyes, and a permanent fine dusting of an explosive powder on their bodies that they could light at any time they feel like it. Warrior level respect.

And then, there’s the one dragon no one could, or had ever seen.

Folks around here called it a-

“NIGHTMARE!”

“GET DOWN!”

I ducked my head through the window to see what was going on, and watched an entire battle tower topple to the ground in shattered pieces.

This thing never stole food, never showed itself, and never, ever, missed. The creature seemed to terrorise our village for the fun of it, no one could kill it.

Which obviously meant, if I could kill it, I’d be so well respected that everyone who had ever sneered at me would apologise for it. I’d no longer be a village runt, and the mystery demon would be gone.

I peaked into the main shop, and after seeing Philza contently busy, with that energised gleam in his eye that he always got when he’s comfortably overloaded, sneaked out through the back door with my crossbow, once again ducking and weaving between people to get to a quiet spot.

The light from the village didn’t reach me when I finally stopped at the top of a cliff, and it was quiet and dark as I held my weapon ready; loaded and poised to shoot.

My eyes searched the night sky for any sign of life big enough to be a dragon, and the slightest disturbance in the stars was my only warning before I automatically locked on target and suddenly I was sent reeling backwards from the kick of the crossbow.

I heard a pained shriek as I hastily sat back up, loose black and white hair floating in the wind in front of my face as I watched a shadow soar down across the slowly lightening sky to land somewhere on the island. A triumphant grin spread across my face and I leapt up. “Yes! Yes it hit it! I hit it! Hahaha!” I cheered, dancing around excitedly.

It’d have been absolutely mortifying if Philza were to have seen that, but he wasn’t there, so I could be as embarrassing as I liked.

“Did anybody see that?!” I cried, looking around for an audience I knew I wouldn’t see. I came up here because there was no one around to scare the dragons away after all.

A heated presence behind me gained my attention, and I turned around with an air of disappointment as a sparking Creeper greeted me with a snarl.

“And of course, it was you.”

Chapter Text

If you heard me screaming as I ran like mad away from the second most feared dragon that liked to attack our home, no you didn’t.

The massive creature was hot on my heels as I sprinted over a hill and back into town, determined not to prove Philza right and die by going outside at night.

The Creeper snapped at me, and I jumped away from it to roll down the rest of the hill and avoid being roasted by it’s fiery blast. Getting up again made me stumble, and I tripped and almost fell before ducking behind a torch post, fire immediately shooting on either side of me as I pressed myself against the steadily heating wood.

The flow of fire stopped, and I crept around the pole, trying to look behind it and see where the dragon trying to kill me was and not run straight into it, when a figure dashed past me and collided with the Creeper I didn’t see sneaking up on me.

I whipped around, watching as a pink-haired man in a cloak drew the dragon’s attention away from me, challenging it with hard red eyes.

Fire brushed my hair and I rushed to the water pump nearby and filled a bucket with water, running back to throw it on top of the fire eating away at the torch and kill it. The flames died as I watched the pink-haired man punch the Creeper in the face until it flew away, before he turned to me, a deep frown on his face.

We stood in silence for a bit, his gaze moving back and forth from the charred and now unstable post to me.

Like I’m the fire breathing dragon that burnt it.

Thanks Dad. I needed that.

“Techno!” A familiar voice yelled, and I looked to my right to see Philza running towards us as best he could with his prosthetic leg, before stopping when he spotted me and looking between us with a face that I couldn’t quite determine what he’s thinking.

It became clear though when he covered his face with his flesh hand.

Ah, it’s exasperation and disappointment.

I’m unsure how it made me feel that I couldn’t tell who it was directed at.

“Chief.” The blond tried this time, looking directly at my father to get his attention.

Yep. My father, Technoblade, the village chief. Rumour on the street was that he bathed in the blood of a dragon he killed as a child and to drew on its power to fight the enemy to this day.

Did I believe this story?

…Maybe.

“Ranboo.” My father’s voice called me to attention, and I met him with one red eye that matched his, initiating a staring contest. We’re silent for another minute. “Well?” The pink-haired man suddenly said, his eyes narrowed with impatience. I frowned. “Well what?” I snapped, emboldened by adrenaline, and the older man narrowed his eyes.

“Well, what’s your excuse for being outside this time?!” He snapped back, and I scoffed, crossing my arms. “The house caught on fire! Was I supposed to just stay in there?!” I answered, and Dad frowned. “When you can’t be in the house, you’re supposed to be in the smithy! With Philza! And where do I find you? Burning down one of our torches!” He yelled back at me, and my frown matched his.

“The dragon lit the torch on fire! Not me! And I was out, shooting down the Nightmare!” I yelled, mirroring my father’s volume.

And suddenly, silence.

Disbelieving looks surrounded me, and I was quick to defend myself. “I did! I did actually hit it! It went down in the forest just nearby the mountain south of the village! In fact, I’m going to go find it right now before it-”

“Stop!”

I almost jumped at Dad’s interruption, and he sighed when I looked back at him. “Get back to the house.” He ordered sternly, before meeting eyes with Philza. “Make sure he gets there. I have an entire night’s worth of mess to clean up.” He grumbled, before I’m led towards home by Philza.

I sighed as I took the lead before Philza towards my charred, but still sturdy, house.

Gods, fathers just do not listen sometimes.

I said as much.

“He never listens.” I told the blond trailing behind me, dragging my boots against the dirt as home came into view. The blacksmith sighed. “Must be a family trait.” He muttered in answer, and I rolled my eyes, ignoring the jab. “Even when he does listen, it’s with this disappointed scowl, like someone tried to skip the rabbit in his soup.” I continued as I come up to the front door, stopping on the porch.

“Excuse me barmaid.” I started imitating his accent, and avidly not paying attention to Philza’s tired smirk. “I’m afraid you brought me the wrong baby!” I mocked, only very slightly pleased by Philza’s amused cackle. “I ordered an extra-large boy with wagon loads of raw muscle! Extra pride and glory on the side! This here!” I ranted, still mimicking Dad’s voice, while Philza’s face sobered. “This is a walking disappointment!” I finished, exasperated.

Philza shook his head at me, raising his hands in a ‘calm down’ gesture. “Hey now it’s not about how you’re supposed to stay inside at night Techno, he’s harsh to keep you safe!” The Philza told me, and I stared at him in disbelief, waiting for him to tell me he was joking. He was not.

“Thanks for that Phil, you’re a great help.” I answered half-heartedly, turning to head inside for the day. “Look, the point is,” Philza stopped me, and I turned to face him while he spoke. “stop trying to so hard to impress him like this.” The blacksmith implored; his expression sympathetic.

I lowered my head and pushed my front door open. “I just want to be like one of you guys.” I mumbled, heading inside.

Not that I stayed there of course.

I was out with my map, charcoal, and a knife probably before Philza even left the porch.

Chapter Text

Shouting echoed around the great hall as voices talked over each other in the torch-lit building, each trying harder to be heard than the last.

Philza was sitting bored at a table with a pint of mead, watching as his chief grew increasingly annoyed by the bickering from off to the side. Finally, Technoblade’s eyes snapped open.

“Enough!” He yelled, his voice booming through the room and silencing every argument being made until quiet fell over the hall.

Technoblade waited for a minute, cold red eyes dragging over the people of his village, daring them to test his nerves.

Wisely, none did.

“The dragon attacks are getting worse by the day, and they’re not going to get any better. We’re losing more lives, stock, and resources every night. I say we go on another search for the nest. Once it’s destroyed, the dragons will have to relocate, and they’ll find a new food source.”

It was incredible really, how when Technoblade spoke everybody listened. Philza would be truly impressed if he didn’t know the man so well. A rumble of murmurs rippled through the hall, before all heads turned back towards the chief. “No other search has ever been successful.” Someone called out. Technoblade smiled coldly. “Aye, if any of them had, we wouldn’t still be suffering from the beasts.” He responded equally as coldly.

Philza downed some of his mead.

“Many of those ships never came back.”

Another call. Another answer. Technoblade, attentive as always, found the speaker with impassive red eyes. “We’re Vikings, sailing out and destroying the danger is in our blood. One more sail, before the water freezes over for winter. Who’s coming?” The pink-haired man called out. Many affirmative calls answered, but still Technoblade grinned before saying; “Anyone staying behind will be watching over Ranboo.”

Every person in the room raised a hand but two.

Philza stared stoically at the wall ahead as the meeting ended and the villagers left, until all that was left were him, and Technoblade.

The pink-haired man sat down heavily next to his best friend, and Philza took another swig of mead. “I know I’m off the expedition, Techno.” The blond muttered at the wall. Techno didn’t answer. “Someone has to look after your son for you.” Philza said quietly, but dripping with sarcasm. Technoblade sighed.

“Every time we speak we butt heads Phil, I can’t get through to him. You can. What am I supposed to do?” The pink-haired man asked quietly, red eyes trained on the wooden table beneath his elbows. Philza shrugged. “You could come home faster than in three months this time.” He answered offhandedly. Technoblade winced. “I didn’t think it would take that long, but we got iced in Phil.”

Philza pursed his lips. “I know you got iced in; it was June. You’re lucky you made it back in time for Ranboo’s birthday.” The blond responded, his voice monotone. Technoblade sighed heavily and slumped against the table. “I’d train him myself if I could spare the time Philza.. but he just can’t focus. I took him hunting once and he started pulling grass out of the ground.” The pink-haired man said, visibly exasperated but his voice so, so, fond.

The blond smirked and raised an eyebrow. “I’d start pulling up grass too if you tried to make me go hunting. It’s gory and the poor kid’s squeamish.” He answered sympathetically. Technoblade groaned against his folded arms before tilting his head up. Silence fell over the friends for a while, and Philza continued drinking his mead.

“Philza.”

“Yeah mate?”

“Would you train him..?”

The blacksmith turned to stare at Technoblade seriously. “You told me not to. To let you make time to do it yourself. I had to deny Ranboo again just last night. What the fuck makes you think I’ll say yes?” Philza hissed out, his temper heating in his chest. The pink-haired man frowned miserably at the table. “That was a long time ago Philza, before the raids got worse and it became so important to get them to stop. Ranboo’s getting older, stronger, more stubborn.” Technoblade answered back, sounding tired.

Philza scoffed and gulped down the last of his mead. The chief’s eyes returned to the wall. “My son would never respect me as a teacher even if the village’s livelihood didn’t depend on me spending every spare second trying to find that Odin blasted nest.” The pink-haired man cursed, making fists against the sturdy wood. His best friend scowled. “Time you’re supposed to spend teaching, training, caring for and loving your child is not spare seconds Techno.” The blond ground out. Technoblade looked at him in surprise as the blacksmith rose on his creaky wooden leg and metal hand.

He stared, almost in disbelief as the lopsided man clanked over to the bar to deposit his jug, and then some more as Philza walked back on his way out of the hall. “Those seconds? They’re nothing short of precious.” Philza hissed angrily, before storming out of the hall for some hard earned sleep. Technoblade watched him go with wide eyes, and blinked himself out of his surprise when the heavy door slammed shut behind his friend.

The chief turned to face the wall again, and sat there thinking for over an hour. It was nearing midday when the pink-haired man nodded to himself and stood up, having made his decision. He would go on his trip, and come back in a timely fashion this time. And when he came back, he would offer for Ranboo to train with him. In the meantime, his son would train with the other youngsters in the village until he returned.

Technoblade smiled to himself a little bit as he pulled the hall door open and stepped into the sunshine. All he needed to do now was talk Philza out of his anger, and either find or wait for his little explorer.