A Gentle Soul (Technoblade x reader)

XIII

Shadow of the Festival
In which you spend your days resting on your legs, whilst worrying about a friend that can handle himself and be worried about you

...~<<<()>>>~...

In the cozy confines of her room, (Y/N) embarked on the intricate process of crafting arrows from the raw elements at her disposal. A small crafting table held a carefully arranged assortment of materials – feathers, slender sticks, and a collection of flint pieces. Illuminated by the soft glow of a lantern, her workspace came to life as she began the meticulous journey of creating arrows from scratch.

The first step involved selecting feathers, each one scrutinized for the right length and flexibility. With a deft hand, she trimmed them uniformly, ensuring they would provide the necessary stability during flight. The feathers were laid out like a row of delicate quills, ready to be affixed to the arrow shafts.

Moving on to the arrowheads, (Y/N) chose flint pieces gathered meticulously during her journeys. Placing a small chunk of flint on a wooden block, she skillfully chipped away at it with a sharpened knife. The room filled with the rhythmic sound of flint meeting wood, a subtle but purposeful melody.

Once satisfied with the arrowhead's form, the next step was fletching. With precision, she added the arrowheads to slender sticks, each one uniquely shaped and aligned. Tying off the fletching required meticulous attention, and (Y/N) skillfully secured feathers to the back end of each arrowhead using a strong adhesive. Each feather was arranged with precision, creating a symmetrical and visually appealing array that promised stability in flight.

The crafting process continued with finesse, and the room filled with the earthy scent of wood and the occasional metallic tang of freshly sharpened flint. Shadows danced on the walls, casting a warm ambiance over the crafting journey.

With the final touch of craftsmanship, (Y/N) examined each arrow, refining their shape and balance. Gleaming arrowheads, tied-off fletching, and precisely shaped shafts testified to her skill and dedication. A quiver now held a set of meticulously crafted arrows, ready for the next adventure or whoever met the unfortunate encounter with the archer.

Her door swung open and Techno crossed his arms, eyeing (Y/N) with a stern expression. "I thought I told you to rest. You can't craft arrows with a broken leg."

(Y/N) flashed a mischievous grin. "Didn't you tell Wilbur yesterday'Revolution waits for no man Techno'."

"She got you there."

"What if her leg gets worse."

"No one cares."

"We care."

He huffed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You're incorrigible."

She chuckled. "So, are you going to let me craft or just stand there scowling?"

"Take her arrows away or something."

He shook his head, reaching over to gather her arrow crafting materials and her finished arrows. "No arrows for now. Rest."

"Resting is so boring. Can't I do something else? How about potions?" she suggested, her eyes gleaming with enthusiasm.