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Theseus was out playing. He ran through the grass, joyful, enjoying the spring. Spring brought a rare warmth to the usually frost covered Antarctic Empire. While there was still snow, patches of it were melting, and small flower buds and grass poked through.
Technoblade watched from his bench, where he held his mythology book open, poised as though he was reading. He wasn’t, of course. How could he when his runt was experiencing his first spring at home, where he belonged? Theseus stopped and kneeled at a patch of small yellow daffodils pushing out of the snow under the shelter of a yellow rose bush that was just beginning to bloom. He brushed them gently with his fingers, being careful not to let his white and blue cape fall over them and crush them.
“Techno, come’ere!” he excitedly yelled from across the garden.
Techno sighed exaggeratedly, putting down his book with a playful huff.
“What is it, Theseus?” he said, coming to a stop by where his sounder lay kneeling by the flowers. His eyes sharpened on the lack of gloves Theseus was wearing. It was still cold out, what was he doing without proper garments? The urge to encircle his runt in his arms and bring him back to the nest was almost overwhelming. His hands twitched where they were held in from if him.
Theseus thrust his cupped hands forward into Techno’s - cupped, to make room for the squirming worm held in his hands.
“Look what I found, Techno!” Theseus excitedly spoke.
Techno hummed playfully.
“I guess the saying is true, huh? The early bird gets the worm.” A small grin wormed its way onto his face, one he wouldn’t want any other than his sounder to see. “It’s too bad the old man’s taking so long to get ready. What do you say we go and help him wake up?”
“Hell yeah!” Theseus yelled, jumping up, his wings flaring with him and flashing in the morning light.
His runt carefully took the worm back from Techno before returning it to the ground. He grabbed his hand and started pulling to the door leading out of the garden. Techno let himself be pulled along, indulging Theseus’ childlike playfulness and wonder.
They wound their way through the halls, pushing past maids and guards alike. Techno watched with amusement as Theseus shoved past people, many moving out of the way as the two barged by.
Eventually they skidded to a stop, Theseus having fun into the brick wall that was their sounder, Wilbur.
“Hello Toms, Techno. What’s got you two up so early; I know you value your beauty sleep, don’t you gremlin.” Wilbur teased, pulling Theseus to his chest and ruffling his hair, now much softer and brighter than when he was brought to the castle.
Theseus whined, pushed at Wilbur’s chest until he was free enough to speak without being muffled.
“We we’re just going to wake up dad! He’s being an old man again, Wilby.” Theseus said, a serious expression on his face that lasted only a second before breaking out into a grin once more.
Wilbur’s face lit up at the nickname. He only really got to hear it now when Theseus was deep in his instincts or when he wanted something.
“I’ll let it go this time, gremlin, but you bet you’ll be spending an afternoon or two with me soon!” Wilbur called as Techno and Tommy pulled away and continued on down the corridor. “Techno won’t be your favorite for long, Toms!”
Techno snorted as they rounded the final corner to Phil’s quarters, and slowed upon reaching the door.
His runt opened his mouth to speak before being shushed by Techno, a finger to his lips.
“We open the door on three,” Techno whispered. “One, two-“
Theseus opened the door with a slam, and there stood Phil.
Only they weren’t outside Phil’s room anymore. And Techno wasn’t standing up, he was laying in his bed, his hoard, surrounded by blankets, pillows, gold and feathers-
Feathers. Golden feathers.
Where was Theseus?
Techno’s breathing became uneven as he frantically glanced about his dark room. There was no Theseus to be seen. Where was his runt? Had his runt left? Why wasn’t he here, in Techno’s hoard?
He gasped for breath, grasping at the blankets and desperately flinging them off the bed, hoping to see a glimpse of gold gold gold-
“Techno!” A loud voice cut through his fog. “Breath with me mate,” the voice said. “In, one two three, hold, one two three, out, one two three.”
Techno took a shuddering breath, awareness slowly returning to him.
“And repeat,” Phil’s voice said. “In, one two three, hold, one two three, out, one two three.”
Techno sobbed, leaning into the hands that held him steady.
He looked up to see Phil standing above him, bags under his eyes and stress visible in his disorderly feathers.
His runt had feathers. They were never as glossy as Phil’s, but they would have been. Phil would have taught Theseus how to preen and be preened, how to keep his wings clean and shiny and beautiful, like his runt was. They would have been-
“Techno, please,” Phil’s desperate voice sounded. “I need you back with me for just a moment.”
Techno looked back up, only distantly aware of the tears streaming down his face. He felt strangely… disconnected.
“I need you to eat, Techno.” Phil said.
But Techno couldn’t eat. Not with the gold wings mounted above his fireplace, not with his runts feathers strewn around the hoard with no runt in sight.
“Techno. Please. I’ll do anything, you just need to eat. You can’t keep starving yourself like this, mate. Look at yourself, you’re wasting away!” Phil exclaimed.
Phil was right. Techno’s ribs were showing, and his hair was crispy, knotted, and oily. His previous musculature and strength, one of his greatest personal prides, was fading with every week spent locked away in his room.
How could he leave, when it was the only place with any vague piece of his runt still left in it.
“Please Techno,” the words were whispered this time. “I’ll find all the gold and gems you could need for your hoard, I’ll remove the wings from above your fireplace-“
Techno flinched at the reminder.
Phil continued, “We’ll even find you another songbird, Techno. Please.” Phil’s voice cracked. Tears were running down his face too, now.
“We made a mistake, Techno. Please, please don’t let our mistake be the end of you.” Phil whispered brokenly, holding out a small bowl of soup.
Techno took it, a strand of hair falling into the bowl. He couldn’t find it in himself to care. He spooned it into his mouth little by little, until the bowl was almost finished. Even then, Phil picked up his spoon and continued to feed him.
When the bowl was finished, Phil picked it up and hugged Techno.
“I love you, Techno. We both do.” He said quietly. He left, the door closing behind him.
Techno threw up.