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

War Times (3)

(Eryn POV)

"Based on the spies' reports, we have half a month, at most, before they arrive at the Valley, which gives us another week to prepare the troops before we set out. The armory should be done tallying and divvying up weapons by tomorrow, and caravans have been loaded with other supplies." Techno informed.

"And the other thing we planned...?" I quirked an eyebrow.

"Gathering the materials as we speak. The alchemists are working as fast as they can, given that it's delicate work. But it should be done before we go." Techno confirmed.

"Good." Wilbur raised his head towards the sun, breathing in the last sweet winds of spring. As he did, Tommy and Technoblade were the only ones to notice the fresh scratch marks running down the pale column of his throat. Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by a quiet shake of Techno's head. "I guess it's time."

In one smooth motion, Technoblade jumped onto the balcony railings, balancing precariously like an acrobat on a tightrope, his beloved trident in his hand. He drove the butt of the trident against the railings, producing a sound like a bell tolling, over and over until the crowd was almost silent, their attention caught.

"Your king," he shouted, "will now speak. I suggest you listen."

He dropped back between Tommy and Wilbur, who gave him a grateful smile before turning back to their people. Their army.

"Friends," Wilbur began, his voice carrying out over the still crowd, now hanging on to his every word. "I see you all from where I stand. I understand you are afraid. You are confused. Years ago, I promised you peace on my father's crown, and now I call you to war. This is nothing less than treason. Rest assured, I will be facing consequences for it."

The crowd stirred. Even Tommy looked to his brother in surprise, a question swiftly dying on his lips as Wilbur spoke on.

"But that will be later," the king continued. "For now, we face an enemy that has mercilessly slaughtered our brethren on the northern border. That is what we shall keep in mind as we ready to face them. More than a battle to defend ourselves, this is a war of revenge. We shall remember the innocents lost to the nonsensical greed of our invaders, and I vow to deliver you your vengeance on a silver platter."

Techno's eyes seemed to darken, but he did not interrupt. His gaze drifted to the marble pavilion sitting in the distance, right where the crowd stopped. Its chests had been pilfered, the blunted training weapons melted down to make sharper, deadlier blades. The ivy tumbling from its roof swayed slightly in the wind, offering him a brief glimpse at the empty, dust-covered floor beyond.

He wondered if he'd ever set foot in it again. I also felt the same way.

(3rd person POV)

The shopkeeper was the only one not watching the king as he spoke of bravery and keeping the faith. Instead, she followed the tutor's far-off gaze, but all she could see was a small white building, overgrown with weeds.

"This will not be the end of our nation," the king said with a note of finality, his dark eyes sweeping across the gathered crowd, but not seeing their faces at all. He spread his arms, as if welcoming an embrace from someone no one else could see. "It has stood for centuries, and it will stand for centuries more. We will see our enemies burning, my friends, and I will scatter their ashes on the graves of the people they took from us. And anyone who survives the fire will wish they had perished in the flames, and not by my hands. My only hope is that you might feel the same, and trust that you are in the most capable hands I could find." He turned to the tutor. "You are in the safe keeping and guidance of General Technoblade. Together, we will defend this kingdom—or die trying."

The silence of the crowd gave way to thunderous applause, the exultant cry of hundreds of people who did not know, truly, what awaited them on the battlefield. The aged warrior with the scarred hands was intimately familiar with violence, and turned bitterly away from the excitement. She had been like them, once, but no longer. They would learn, sooner or later, but it would not be a gentle lesson.

However, they were united in some things. They trusted their young king and their prince. They trusted their general. And they wished to see their enemies burn. But what about the girl?

The boy in the crowd felt that unity down to his bones. This is it, he thought, this was what it meant to be a part of something. To belong. He felt a smile creep onto his face, and soon he was joining the noise, hollering until his lungs began to ache, joining in the people's furious glee. He was going to hold the line. He was going to drive the enemy back, and protect the land that raised him. And he was going to be a hero. At seventeen years old, Tubbo was the oldest he'd ever been, but he never felt so young.

(Eryn POV)

Only one person did not seem impressed by the king's words. The tutor-turned-general was staring at the king, his mouth a thin line of disapproval. I stared in shock.

"Since when did I get the promotion?" Technoblade asked slowly.

Wilbur shrugged, dismissive. "You're already acting like a general, anyway."

"But I—" Techno was cut off by Wilbur.

"Technoblade." The king's voice turned cold as he stared his old tutor down. "You promised to help me. Was that a lie?"

Technoblade's eyes flashed dangerously. "Careful, Wilbur," he said quietly. "You're forgetting who you're talking to."

Wilbur blinked, his eyes suddenly clearing. He opened his mouth for some sort of retort, perhaps an apology, but then there was Tommy—brilliant, loud Tommy—leaning so far over the railings, Technoblade had to pull him back by the back of his shirt. When he turned to them, he was beaming, his eyes bright in the afternoon gloom.

"We're going to win," Tommy said, his ears still ringing with the crowd's approval. "We're actually going to win, aren't we?" I nodded hesitantly, which earned me a smile from Tommy.

Wilbur and Techno exchanged one glance—one glance, and all was forgiven, the conversation shelved for another day. The general still looked at the king with something close to concern, and the dark circles under the king's eyes were getting harder and harder to ignore each day, but none of that mattered anymore. 

If Tommy said they were going to win, then by the gods, neither of them would tell him otherwise, not when he looked the happiest he'd been in a month. I just hoped...that this wouldn't blow up in all four of our faces. Or this wasn't a war we would win.

a/n

i got smtnn planneddd for the next chappp boiiiis

heheheheh

wait for the next chap boiiii

OHHH

YEAHHH

have a good day, afternoon or night wherever you are!

byeeee mah bootyful muffins!!