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Of all the challenges that came with starting an empire, the last thing Phil would've considered was hypothermia.
Him and Techno had enough else to worry about, of course; building an empire was a difficult task at the best of times, but when you were starting out with exactly two people and a dream, things got a lot more complicated. The whole process was a seemingly endless series of tasks to complete and plans to make and people to talk to. They also had to keep on the good side of already established nations, which meant not encroaching on said nations' territories, which in turn meant that they'd had to settle for setting up their headquarters in the Antarctic.
For now, at least. Someday they'd take over the world; but world domination required having an empire to start with, and that was taking a lot more time than initially anticipated.
No one ever said starting an empire would be easy.
Nearly a year into the process, though, they'd gotten to a place where they didn't have to constantly be working just to keep their fledgling empire afloat. It was nice to be able to take a break from plotting for a while. To sit back in the lofty fortress they'd constructed, curl up in a blanket nest, and enjoy a nice book by a crackling fireplace.
Or at least, it would be nice, if it weren't for the near-constant talking from the other side of the room. Because - unfortunately for Phil - Techno pretty much refused to take breaks.
He'd been doing this since the Antarctic Empire was first founded. He organized trade routes, balanced budgets, set up infrastructure, and did a million other little things behind the scenes to keep the Empire running smoothly. It was important work, to be sure, but sometimes Phil worried that his friend would overwork himself. He was pretty sure Techno had never heard of the concept of "burnout".
Phil himself had what he considered the easier role of the two. The newly established Antarctic Empire would need support and alliances in these early days, and while Techno could help with discussions about which alliances would work out best, he was deeply opposed to the concept of personally participating in diplomatic meetings.
So they'd come to an agreement: Techno would do the paperwork, and Phil would do the talking.
Which was all well and good at first. But while Phil's job was mostly done during daylight hours, Techno's role allowed him to very easily get lost in his work and stay up long into the night. And that wasn't very fun for anyone involved. Techno would talk to himself pretty often, occasionally to the point of having full-blown debates aloud, and sometimes Phil just wanted to sit in the pillow-filled hollow by the fireplace and read his books, and those two things did not mix well.
Even now, Phil heard Techno sigh in frustration. He glanced over his shoulder, watched as his friend scratched something out on the paper he was writing on before crumpling the entire thing.
"Everything alright, mate?"
"Hm? Yeah, no, I just…" Techno trailed off, brushing some stray hair from his face. "I need that, actually." He started uncrumpling the paper, smoothing it on the desk. "It's a draft of the invite for our next diplomatic thing. Tryin' to finish it up by tomorrow."
"Oh, right." The diplomatic meeting was planned for several weeks out; Phil hadn't thought they'd need to send out invitations so early, but that was why Techno was in charge of planning things. "Need any help with it?"
Techno shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. You just do your readin'."
Phil got up anyway, setting his book aside and walking over to the desk, tucking in his wings so they wouldn't accidentally knock anything off. The desk was basically a full-size table, the largest size reasonably possible for the room they'd designated as the strategy room. It was also nearly completely covered in an organized mess of maps, checklists, schedules, and pretty much anything an aspiring emperor could need for plotting world conquest. The whole thing was also color-coded (apparently; it was Techno's system, and Phil hadn't quite figured it out yet).
Techno's usual spot was at the end of the table furthest from the fireplace, since that was the only corner that hadn't already been consumed by paper. He had a set of drawers that sat below the table, from which he took another sheet of paper, laying it beside the lightly-crumpled piece he'd been working on as Phil walked around the table towards him.
"It's really not a big deal, I just gotta stop messin' up the letterin'."
"I know, mate, I'm just looking."
Techno's handwriting was usually pretty good, and when Phil looked over the draft of the invitation, it seemed alright to him. There were a few places where words had been scratched out and rewritten, and the lines started to slant towards the end of the paper, but there were several paragraphs on the page and that seemed like a lot of effort to just set aside.
"You can't just use this?" He asked, picking up the draft.
Techno shook his head. "We're sendin' this to government officials, Phil. It's gotta look nice."
"I mean, I get that the paper's all scrunched up now-"
"The paper's not the problem," Techno interrupted. "It has to look professional, like we know what we're doin' here. Meanin' the design matters."
Yet another reason why this was Techno's job and not Phil's. At some point, Phil would say that good enough was good enough, and as long as a message was legible, that was all that really mattered.
The room was silent for a moment, save for the crackling of the fire and the gentle scratch of Techno's quill pen on paper. Phil got distracted reading over the invite more closely, so he was caught off-guard when Techno swore quietly.
He looked up with curiosity to see Techno scribbling over the last word he'd written before tossing down the pen again. "This isn't workin'."
"What's not working?"
"No idea. I just- I can't focus." Techno unclasped his cloak, letting it fall back in the chair, then pushed a hand through his hair again. The flyaway strands fell back in his face almost immediately. "It's too warm in here," he muttered, almost to himself.
That was about when Phil realized that something was actually wrong. Techno never complained a place being too warm. Even on the hottest summer days, when any sane person would try to stay inside or in the shade, he'd be completely comfortable out in the sun. As a matter of fact, that was why they'd put a fireplace in the strategy room in the first place; most of the rooms in the Antarctic Empire's headquarters relied on a central heating system, but since Techno would be spending a lot of time in the strategy room, it made sense for the room to have extra heating capabilities.
Phil set down the paper he was holding, going to brush back the flyaway strands of Techno's hair. The motion also gave him the perfect chance to check his friend's temperature; his forehead was about as warm Phil would expect of the average human. Maybe even a little cooler.
Which was a problem, because again, Techno was part piglin, and he was usually more like a walking furnace.
"You should take a break, mate," Phil suggested, picking up Techno's cloak from the chair and draping it back over his shoulders. Techno immediately shrugged it off again. "Go sit by the fire for a bit."
"I'll be done when I finish writin' these up. I can take a break then."
"… how many of those do you have to do?"
Techno paused, taking a moment to count on his fingers. "Only about… four. Plus a few extra, in case I missed anyone."
"And how long is that going to take?"
"Longer than it needs to, if you're gonna keep interruptin' me," Techno deadpanned, going to grab another sheet of paper. "I'm not stoppin' until this is done, alright?"
Phil didn't like forcing Techno to take breaks. Mainly because it was almost impossible; if Techno had set his mind to something, he would refuse to stop for anything unless he was physically forced to (a challenging task, given his size and strength, and an option that Phil wasn't particularly inclined to try)… or unless he was tricked into it. Which was its own sort of challenge.
However, despite Techno's insistence, he was clearly not up to the task of completing the invitations at that particular moment. Even the fireplace wasn't enough to keep the strategy room at a sufficient temperature - such were the downsides of living in the Antarctic - and Techno seemed to be going through the early stages of hypothermia, something that piglins were particularly susceptible to.
Phil considered this dilemma for a few seconds, before deciding that the best course of action was to just… steal Techno's pen. If he couldn't write, he couldn't work on the invitations, so he'd have to stop!
Techno was just about to pick up his pen again, apparently steeling himself for the task ahead, so Phil took the opportunity to snatch up the quill pen. It was a lot easier than he'd expected. Normally, Techno would've seen the move coming, and would've either gotten to it quicker or stolen it back with ease.
Now, though, he just blinked at the spot where the pen had been, then turned his head to give Phil a tired look.
"Really?"
"Come on, mate. Time for a break."
Techno just huffed in response, then opened one of the desk's drawers to reveal a whole stash of extra quill pens. He took one of them out and promptly returned to writing (despite how his hands were now visibly shaking from cold).
"Oh my gods, Techno."
"It's gotta get done."
"Let me do it, then," Phil tried, and Techno just shook his head.
"You were literally gonna send that-" he pointed at the crinkled paper of the first draft, "-to the leaders of nations. I'm not lettin' you write these up."
… that was a fair point. Unfortunately. Because it meant Techno wouldn't be stopping. His words were just now starting to slur together, too, which Phil remembered as another sign of hypothermia.
He watched Techno continue to write, trying to think of any other way to get his friend to take a break and warm up. He was about to resort to physical force (which was very much a last resort, not to mention how likely he'd be to fail, but it was something) when Techno paused his work again to push his hair out of his face.
And that was when Phil had an idea.
"You want me to braid your hair?" He offered.
Techno glanced up, giving him a confused look. "… why?"
"To keep it out of your face."
"I guess that'd help," Techno said slowly. "It is kinda distractin'."
Phil grinned, because just like that, Techno had fallen into his totally very subtle trap. "Great! Just go over to the nest, and I'll get some hair ties."
"Wait, hold on- why do I have to go over there?"
"Because it'll be easier to braid your hair over there," Phil explained. "It'll only take a minute, I promise."
Techno squinted at him, and Phil smiled back innocently. Which - for about the first time ever - actually worked. Techno sighed, dragging a hand down his face, and nodded. "Fine. But then I'm gettin' back to work, alright?"
Phil was absolutely not letting him go back to work.
"Of course," he said, like a liar. He started walking back around the table, already mentally picking out extra blankets to add to the nest to make it even warmer and cozier. "Oh- do you want tea, mate?"
Techno didn't respond for a long moment, and Phil turned to see him standing up, but leaning heavily on the table and staring into space.
"Techno?"
"'m fine."
"You don't sound fine."
Techno waved a hand dismissively, straightening up slowly. "Just stood up too fast. Stop worryin'."
If Phil hadn't already planned on getting Techno to stop working for the night, that would've been the final straw. As it was, he just nodded. "That's fair. I was just going to make tea, though, do you want some?"
"Sure."
The fireplace had a set of shelves beside it, one of which held a kettle and an assortment of teas, and another of which was filled with a half-dozen extra blankets for the nest, all with different pretty patterns. Phil took the blankets first, picking out the warmest two and taking them back to the nest to drape over Techno's shoulders.
"It's already boilin'," Techno complained, going to push them off.
"My nest, my rules."
Techno didn't protest further, aside from a pointed sigh, and Phil turned his attention to the tea kettle.
The whole process of making tea in the strategy room was significantly more complicated than it needed to be; despite the presence of both a kettle and a way to heat it (the fireplace), simply setting the kettle in the fire was not a good idea (which Phil had definitely not realized through trial and error). Instead, there was a miniature stovetop plate set up in an alcove next to the fireplace, which - when the kettle was placed on it - used enchantments to draw heat from the fire. It wasn't the most straightforward system, but it worked and he was used to it, and that was enough for the time being.
When the kettle had been started, Phil returned to the nest, sitting cross-legged behind Techno on one of the stacks of pillows that made up the outer border of the nest. That put him at almost the right height to properly braid Techno's hair; Techno was very tall, and elytrians were hardly known for their height. Phil kept a few extra hair ties in his pocket at all times, and he took one out now, looping it around his wrist for easy access.
"Hurry up, I'm burnin' alive over here," Techno deadpanned.
Once again, that was an incredibly concerning sentiment, because Techno's skin still felt cool to the touch, despite his proximity to the fire and the multiple blankets wrapped around him. Phil didn't say anything about that aloud. He did, however, quietly curse their decision to start an empire in what was possibly the coldest place on earth. Somehow, hypothermia hadn't made it onto their pros and cons list, and that seemed like a pretty big oversight.
"Be patient, mate, I just sat down," he said instead, trying to keep a lighthearted tone. "It's been a little while since I've done braids," he added. "Not sure how they'll turn out."
"Doesn't have to be perfect."
"Mhm." Phil tried to gather the front strands of Techno's hair into the beginnings of a braid, frowned at how far he had to reach. "Could you lean back a bit?"
Techno did so, leaning against the wall of the nest, and they lapsed into silence. Phil focused on the slow work of braiding: he'd started on the left side, with the plan of bringing the braid around in a half-circle and picking up stray bits of hair along the way. Easy in theory, but in practice, it really was hard keeping track of everything, and there were several occasions where he messed something up and had to backtrack.
He hadn't gotten all the way around when the kettle went off. The whistle started softly, then very quickly grew to a loud, ear-piercing noise. Techno winced, and Phil instantly stopped what he was doing, hurrying to take the kettle from the stovetop.
"What type of tea do you want?" He asked, picking out an herbal tea for himself.
"Whatever you're havin'," Techno responded. "With sugar."
Phil took another of the herbal teas, then got two mugs from the tea shelf, adding the tea bags and pouring the boiling water over top. There was a small box of sugar cubes and a jar of honey on the shelf, as well, and he took those out while waiting for the tea to steep.
"Phil?"
"Hmm?"
"You're tryin' to stop me from workin', aren't you."
Phil gave Techno his most innocent look. "What are you talking about? I just want you to not be distracted while you're doing your writing thing."
"… right. In that case, I'm gonna get those invites done real quick-"
"Nope. You can't leave yet, I still have to do your hair."
Techno sighed, shoulders visibly rising and falling in a very dramatic way. "You're makin' tea, that takes forever. I could've gotten so much work done by now."
"You literally would've spent half the time crossing things out, mate." Phil took the tea bags from the water, adding two sugar cubes to one and a swirl of honey to the other before carrying the mugs over to the nest. "And look, it's already done."
Techno took the mug, humming in a distinctly disgruntled manner as he took a sip. He never waited for tea to cool; it was another benefit of his heat tolerance, an ability Phil really wished he had. "Thanks. 's good."
"No problem, mate."
Phil settled back into his place, returning to his work of braiding. He hadn't bothered to tie up the loose ends of what he'd been working on, and after a bit of deliberation over where he'd been, he determined that the best solution was to just… start over. Which was definitely not another part of his plot to keep Techno away from his desk for as long as it took him to warm back up.
Fortunately, Techno didn't seem to notice- or, if he did, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he continued drinking his tea as Phil slowly worked his way through the braid.
After a while, he finally picked up all the loose strands of hair and was able to tie it off, and then it was on to the right side. Techno seemed half-asleep by that point, and it took a bit of nudging to get him to turn his head so Phil could properly braid the hair on that side.
This braid came together a little quicker, now that Phil had gotten used to the pattern, but the silence stretched on as he worked until eventually, he was pretty sure Techno had actually fallen asleep. He decided that he'd get to the end of the braid, then find somewhere to sleep himself, because Techno had pretty effectively stolen his nest.
Then Techno shifted, apparently not asleep, and began to speak.
"Y'know," he started, voice so quiet and mumbled that he was barely audible, "I've been thinkin'… I could probably put off the invitations 'til tomorrow."
"Oh?"
"Mm. Too tired for it now." He tilted his head further back, making eye contact. "By the way, you're not very subtle."
Phil laughed, keeping the sound quiet. The braid was pretty much done by now and he tied it off with another hair tie before responding. "It worked, didn't it?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm not fallin' for that again."
"You were getting hypothermia, mate."
Techno huffed. "I think I'd know if I was gettin' hypothermia."
Phil was pretty sure that was not, in fact, accurate. He let it slide anyway, with a silent promise to himself that he wouldn't let Techno push himself so hard in the future and a mental note to figure out a better heating system for their headquarters, because this really shouldn't be happening.
He got up to throw another log on the fire, poking at the already-burnt pieces until the new one caught, then got another blanket from the shelf. Considered for a moment. Then took the whole rest of the stack, bringing them over to Techno and spreading each one over the nest. Techno gave a hum of thanks.
"Sleep well, mate."
"Hold on, where're you goin'?"
Phil paused, halfway to the desk. "Don't worry about it."
"You're not doin' the invites."
"You need rest, mate, I just want to help-"
"Nope. If I gotta go to sleep, you do too."
"In a minute," Phil protested. "I'm not even tired, and my handwriting's not that bad."
Techno sighed, and for a moment, Phil thought he was going to give in. But then the piglin got up, letting the blankets fall away. He shivered. "Wow, it is cold," he muttered, before fixing Phil with a threatening look. "You've got five seconds to get back in the nest."
"Wait, hold on-"
"Four."
"You can't be serious, mate."
"Three."
Oh shit, he was serious. Phil immediately switched his focus to their surroundings; if he was quick enough, he could probably get to one of the room's many perches before Techno could get to him, and just stay out of reach until Techno gave up.
Techno paused counting, apparently realizing the same thing.
"Looks like we're at an impasse," Phil said lightly, grinning with the knowledge that he'd already won the argument. "Just go back to sleep, mate. I'll get the invites done and you won't have to worry about it."
"… in that case, I'm gonna go stand outside for a while," Techno said, very casually. As if he didn't know exactly what he was doing.
"Oh my gods, Techno, don't you fucking dare."
"Probably don't need to bring a jacket, right? It's not that cold in the Antarctic. In the middle of the night. When the sun's not even out."
Phil sighed, accepting defeat. "Fine.. You win, mate. I'll go to sleep once I get the couch set up."
Techno gave him a look, then glanced around at the nest, then back at Phil. "… there's literally so much space here. What're you talkin' about. Also, I'm stealin' your tea," he added, taking the mug from the side of the nest and putting it within closer reach before burrowing back into the blankets.
"Hey-"
"You can have it back if you let me fix your wings."
Phil blinked, giving his wings a quick look-over. He forgot to preen them sometimes, and had been too busy the past week to sit down and do the work properly, but he could only see a few feathers out of place. Nothing too concerning yet. "They're fine, mate."
"You were out doin' construction earlier, I can see the rock dust."
"And? I can fix them up later-"
"Phil."
"This is bribery."
Techno snorted a laugh. "Yeah, you're one to talk. C'mon."
Phil sighed, but reluctantly walked back over to the nest. Unfortunately, Techno was probably right. Well- he was right; Phil definitely should've been taking better care of his wings, it had just… slipped under his radar for a bit.
He sat in the nest with a huff, and Techno handed him the mug of tea before starting to run his hands through Phil's wing, looking for loose feathers and realigning ones that were just a little out of place. Phil took a sip of the tea - perfectly warm, just shy of hot enough to burn - savoring the faint hint of honey and settling further into the nest.
It was very comfy. The sort of comfort that he'd been missing since they'd started the monumental task of building an empire.
Techno's hands were still shaky, though, something Phil only noticed after a few minutes.
"You alright, mate? Still cold?"
"A little," Techno admitted. "Didn't realize how bad it was gettin' for a while there. Almost passed out walkin' over earlier," he added in a too-casual tone.
"You what?" Phil turned his head sharply, and Techno promptly avoided eye contact.
"Yeah, I mean- it's fine now. I noticed it was gettin' bad at about the same time you started convincin' me to take a break, but at that point it was kinda too late."
"We're fixing the heating system. First thing tomorrow."
"You're fixin' the heating system tomorrow," Techno corrected. "I'm gonna be finishin' the invites."
Fair point. Renovations were more of Phil's area of expertise, anyway.
He shifted to give Techno better access to his other wing, absently picking up some of the loose feathers that had ended up among the pillows and blankets of the nest. There were a lot, most from earlier days, because no matter how well he thought he'd cleaned up, there would always be more tiny feathers hidden somewhere. They were like glitter, but worse.
"Is there anything else that might help for now?" Phil asked. 'I can make more tea, find extra blankets somewhere… you can take my cloak if you want it-"
"Nah, I'm good."
"You just told me you almost passed out from hypothermia."
"That was before you started smotherin' me with all the blankets," Techno defended. "I was tryin' to say that it's not that bad anymore-"
"Mhm, sure."
"… thanks for steppin' in, though."
Phil hummed, taken a little by surprise at the gratitude. Techno didn't usually say thank you. He must be really tired. "No problem, mate. I just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself."
"You should take your own advice sometimes," Techno deadpanned back. "'My wings are fine', you say. 'I'll do it later', you say."
"Shut-"