Things That Need To Pass (passerine!Technoblade x OC) {COMPLETED}

Princely Greetings

Why was he implying that?

(Eryn POV)

In the morning, a late morning breeze passed through, carrying with it the scent of flowers and the shredded remains of Techno's anguish. The fury was still there, and the feeling of a betrayal so grand it might never be bridged, but the exhaustion had begun to settle in. 

Techno was used to quick brawls and long hunts, but verbal altercation was not something he'd ever trained for—mostly because he had not cared to speak to anyone that mattered since... since forever, perhaps.

And maybe Philza had been tired, too, of their life before. Always fighting, never safe. And although Techno thought it was only a matter of time before this game of peace was over, he thought maybe he could start to understand why Phil took the chance. 

It was a foolish move, and Techno would scoff at it for the rest of their immortal lives, but it would not be the worst choice anyone had ever made. Techno and I had seen the worst, and this was barely a drop in the ocean of bad decisions.

Still. It was stupid. One look at Philza and Techno and I realized he must know it, too. I scoffed. "Is this really your excuse for leaving us?" Phil's attention snapped to me. We stared each other down, before Techno spoke again.

"Are they like you?" Techno asked at last, unsure what answer he was waiting for. "Your boys?" Then, Phil's attention went back to the two boys.

Philza sighed. "I would not wish my fate on my worst enemy, least of all my own children." His hands tightened around the railings. "They take after their mother. Mortal. Good, in all ways. I thank every god that has ever existed for that. But sometimes..."

"Sometimes?" Techno prompted when the silence stretched too long.

Philza's jaw clenched. "It's Wilbur. He speaks of voices—"

(Techno POV)

"Voices?"

Philza met my eyes. A conversation from lifetimes ago replayed in my mind—a moment of vulnerability in a castle not so different from this one, where he had spilled his secrets as easily as he spilled blood. The voices, Phil, they demand blood. There was a world's worth of agony in Philza's stare, a burden only understood by a parent fearing for a child.

I sigh. "I am glad he is not like me," Philza said. "But sometimes I fear he is growing more and more like you."

My breath hitched in his throat. I resisted the urge to look down again, to search the grass for the boy with the ancient eyes.

The voices began to sing.

Not alone, they said. Not alone, not alone, not alone—

"No," I said, curling my hands into fists and digging my nails into flesh until they drew blood—my daily penance. "He is but a child."

I paused. What was he talking about? What did it matter what Wilbur was? What was this sudden ache in my chest, something telling of a far deeper wound, an older affliction? I did not know this boy. I should not care. I did not care.

But then Philza seized me by the wrist, as if he knew I was about to take off running, and forced me to meet his tortured gaze.

"That is why I had hoped you would come. Truth be told, I was very close to looking for you myself. I cannot do this by myself, Technoblade, as much as I want to. You're the only one—"

"You want my help," I said dully. "My help, after you abandoned me. After you denounced my ways and called me a monster."

Philza flinched. "I would never call you that, my friend."

Friend. The word that I had only truly understood in the days of snow and sweet tea with Eryn.

(Eryn POV)

"I don't owe you anything," Techno said quietly. "I don't owe that—that child anything."

"I know." Phil nodded his head.

"And I have better things to do with my time."

"I know." Phil replied again.

"After all you did, I shouldn't even be listening to you right now. I should just leave." Techno snapped.

"I know, Techno, I know." Phil replied softly.

And then Philza did something Technoblade and I would never, in a hundred or a million years, have expected him to do. He kneeled. Philza, once-emperor, presently king, Angel of Death, kneeled before Technoblade, grasping pathetically at his cloak, his golden hair bowed. 

(Techno POV)

The voices were a chorus of a disgust and disdain—oh, how the mighty have fallen—and when Philza spoke again, his voice wavered.

"I am sorry, truly, for leaving. But I am asking you, begging you, to do this for me. For my son. For the friendship that we once shared, Techno. Please. Please. I do not know how much time the gods will give us."

"What will you have me do?" I demanded, his own voice fraying at the edges. "What do you expect from me, Phil?" Eryn seemed to be quiet, not daring to intervene.

Philza looked up at me, his face a study in agony. "Stay. Stay and help, as much as you can. And together, maybe we can help you, as well."

The voices paused. Just for a moment. Just for a breath, as they all considered the weight of Philza's words. And, gods, that silence—however brief, however fleeting—was the sweetest thing I had ever heard.

We can help you. What did that mean, exactly? What would that entail?

I didn't know, and didn't care. I'd come here in search of a kingdom of peace, and I'd found it. Forgive an old god for wanting a piece of that for himself, Philza had said. And what was peace if not the silence? Was that not freedom, at last?

So as the voices began to chant anew, an immortal hunter offered an immortal king my hand. The sun climbed higher towards the heart of the sky as I pulled Philza to his feet, and they were on equal ground once more.

I had no idea what he was doing. But there was no true alternative. So me and Eryn met our old friend's gaze and said, "Alright. You and me, one more time." "With Eryn, of course." Phil snickered. I mentally facepalmed. Friend. You never change.

a/n

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I KEEP SWITCHING POVs BUT IDCCCC

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