Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy wasn't lying when he said that palace life wasn't as good as it might have seemed. When he was younger, he'd told friends about the treatment he faced behind the closed palace gates and the royal doors. He'd described the cruel servants who insulted and degraded him, his family who stayed willingly ignorant to the abuse that Tommy experienced. Those friends had then pushed him away, perhaps because they thought he was just a prince playing tricks on him, or perhaps because they were frightened of being friends with someone who openly insulted the royal family.

He hadn't been trying to insult them, really. He had just wanted someone to know that he was struggling. It seemed like no one cared.

It was one ordinary morning after a particularly bad day when everything changed. The day before had bought a new tutor. Tommy - poor, naive Tommy - had been hoping that this new tutor would be nice, patient, and understanding that Tommy wasn't the smartest but he was trying really really hard in lessons.

He'd been wrong.

His new tutor was mean, possibly even the meanest tutor he'd ever had. She'd demand answers of him, never accepting an "I don't know", instead yelling over and over again for him to answer the question, even though it was complicated and he couldn't get his head around algebra or calculus or whatever subject it was.The lesson had ended with Tommy confined to his bedroom, sobbing his eyes out. 

His bedroom, or bedchamber as some of the more higher status servants liked to call it, was sparsely decorated, with a few furnishings like a bed, a wardrobe, a chair and a desk that he rarely used. There used to be a bookshelf, filled with fantastical books with dragons and magic and protagonists who got a happy ending. He'd grown up though, and the fairy tales had been taken away, probably to use for kindling for a fire. His bookshelf had sat there for a few more years, gathering dust, until it had also been thrown away. 

The fires of the castle had burned particularly bright that night, and the cold didn't seep into the walls like it usually did. Tommy, with his bedroom that didn't even have a fireplace, was unable to appreciate the warmth that his bookshelf had provided to the hearths. He'd been lying there, shaking underneath a blanket that was a flimsy protector against the winter temperatures.

There was distant screaming in the palace. Tommy woke up, startled awake, and rolled off the bed with a thump. He had been warned (or rather, told threatening stories) of something like this happening - told of his family's enemies, of people who would kill Tommy on sight for being a member of the royal family, even though he was just an honorary member at best, not one who was even necessary when his mother and father already had enough heirs to the throne.

Tommy had been told enough threatening stories that he'd made himself a plan of what to do if the occasion ever actually arose. The plan was to hide in the wardrobe, so he did. 

He scrambled towards it, opened its door as quietly as it could because it had been creaking ever since he was a little kid. And he sat. And he waited.

At points he could barely even hear screams and there was just silence. Silence that wrapped itself around Tommy and gave him a sense of security, though he didn't trust it. He could just tell that it wasn't over yet. He wasn't safe.

It was in one of these long moments of silence that Tommy felt exhaustion begin to permeate into his very soul. He'd woken in the dead of night and he could only guess what time it was now, sitting in the darkness in that wooden wardrobe that boxed him in. A shelter, a prison - he wasn't too sure. Maybe running had been a safer bet, maybe he could have made his way out of the palace by now. Maybe running would have gotten him killed. He didn't know.

Eventually, sleep grasped him and he fell into dreams of hiding from monsters with big teeth and demonic eyes.

Thud.

Tommy woke up for the second time to a sound that filled him with terror. 

Someone was in the room. He looked out of the crack in the door to see a tall man wearing a guard's uniform. A blue guard's uniform. This was a member of the Antarctic Empire - one of his family's most dangerous enemies, whose army could crush their snowy kingdom with ease. 

Tommy covered his mouth with his hands, trying to muffle the sound of his panicked breaths. If he was seen, he was dead. There was no doubt about it. This could be his very last day and he hadn't even accomplished anything in his life.

The man rattled through the drawers of Tommy's desk, rifling through the scribbles of his lessons with his tutors. Tommy had no idea what he was looking for. He doubted that the guard was particularly interested in his calculus lessons though.

Then the man ruffled through Tommy's bed. He bought the singular blanket to his nose, closing his eyes and inhaling heavily as though he was smelling it. What for, Tommy had no idea. He continued peering through the crack, watching the stranger intently. 

The man froze. His eyes re-opened, red irises blinking in the daylight - and they met Tommy's.

Tommy scrambled backwards, trying to submerge himself within the pile of threadbare clothes, praying to Prime herself that he'd be perceived as a coat or something, just so he could stay alive. In a moment of pure delirium, filled with fright, he figured that he'd make a good coat. He was good at clinging onto things - he'd grown up being pushed by his brothers and sometimes he was just a bit too close to a window so he'd fallen out of a good few - and he was great at conserving heat after all the years of living in the sad, cold kingdom that he called his home.

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

The sound of the man's heavy footsteps approached him and Tommy had no defence when the doors of the wardrobe were thrown open. He kept his head down, trying not to shake like a leaf in the wind, despite the fear and the chill that ran through his blood. 

There was nothing for a moment. No movement, no noises, just the man standing in front of him. In fact, there was silence for so long that Tommy thought that the man had left and he just hadn't noticed. He hoped with all of his might that the stillness in the air would remain - that the man was gone.

Then Tommy sneezed. 

It was just a quiet sound, but of course, with Tommy's luck, it was enough to prove that somebody was there in that sad little wardrobe. The guard rustled through the pile and Tommy, though he hid to the best of the ability, was discovered. 

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Hands grab him. As much as Tommy despairs at the very thought, he is being held by a guard who wants to capture and kill him. Tommy might be stupid in the eyes of his tutor but he's not stupid enough to not struggle when captured by his political enemies. So he struggles. 

Unfortunately for Tommy, he's hungry and thin and not all that strong, whereas the man holding him - the great beastly guard who, now that Tommy actually focuses on him, has pink hair and big white tusks in addition to those red eyes - is strong. And absolutely massive.

He must be one of those hybrids that Tommy has been warned about, people with animal features that are even stronger than normal people. Tommy has been taught that they're powerful and violent, especially piglin hybrids which is what he predicts this guard is. 

This guard that Tommy is in the literal arms of. Fuck.

Tommy keeps struggling, as futile as it may seem, against his captor, scratching at the man's rough skin, unable to make lines where his nails have been, let alone draw blood.

The man breathes heavily at him. Tommy twitches.

And then he struggles some more.

The man sighs loudly, almost growling, which fills Tommy with absolute terror. He freezes. 

The man starts walking. 

Tommy struggles again. The man stops.

The man sighs. Tommy stops.

They start walking.

Tommy struggles. The man does not stop. 

No matter how much he struggles, the guard does not surrender or make a sound other than the footsteps that echo down the hall. Eventually exhaustion sinks back into Tommy's mind, and he stays still in the arms of a man who hates him.

When Tommy awakens, he is lying on a sofa in what looks like some sort of lounge area. The colours are the same sorts of light brown that Tommy is used to in the kingdom of Logsted, so he relaxes at the security of being in his own home. 

Then he jolts. He remembers. That guard, the wardrobe, being captured. Fuck.

There is no security when he knows that any semblance of safety is a lie or a trick. 

Tommy hears a commotion, muffled talking that is a distance away but approaches at a pace that is too fast for Tommy to feel comfortable. 

No safety, his mind repeats. No safety, no safety, no safety. 

The commotion is loud now - just outside the door. 

"I can't believe you-" That's one voice. He can take one guy. 

"-ou've done the exact same thing-" It's two people arguing. Tommy isn't that outnumbered.

"Not to this level mate-"

"-you hypocrite!"

"-echno, come on, be serio-"

"I am being serious-"

"-this is ridiculous-" A third voice says. Shit. Tommy can't take on three grown men at once. No chance. 

"Shush!"

The final word is spoken by two of the voices and the third one goes silent with a sigh.

Tommy is very outnumbered. There's no way he can get out of here with a fight, especially not if that pink-haired fucker is coming back with two of his... lackeys, maybe? Three Antarctic Empire guards. He's got no chance. 

Not a fight then. If he had another person here, they could go and distract the three men and Tommy would be able to make a break for it. But he has nobody else. 

It's just him. Versus three guys. 

It dawns on Tommy that his family aren't here. Have they escaped then, left him behind? Or...? Oh god. Oh fuck. As much as Tommy hated his family, as much as he wished those fairy tales characters would come rescue him, he's not sure they deserved death - especially not deaths as brutal as the Antarctic Empire would give them. 

No fights. No distractions. No chance. He's defenceless - all he's got is a sofa to hide behind and that's such a flimsier hiding place than a wardrobe. The door isn't even closed, those three guys could be looking at him right-

Tommy's head jerks towards the door. The three guys are looking at him. One with blonde hair and a stupid green and white hat, one with fluffy hair and glasses, and the pink haired prick that he saw earlier. The one that captured him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

They jolt at the realisation that he's looking and two of them - the blonde one and the one with glasses - jump, and start walking away, starting a conversation that seems to be about the weather of all things. The pink one stays and keeps staring at Tommy, red eyes fixated on the boy. 

Fuckity fuckity fuck.

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"C'mon kid, I'm not gonna hurt you." The pink-fucker is staring at him, red eyes examining the cold, tired boy in front of him- the boy who's scared shitless of this threat. It's one thing to be told scary stories about people who want him dead. It's another thing completely to see one of the bastards in person. 

"Get away from me!" Tommy replies, scrambling backwards from where the guard stands in front of him. "I'll kick your ass!" 

He's knows it's stupid to threaten the guy, but it doesn't stop him. Fear is making his brain run overtime, with logic jumping out of the window as panic takes hold of him. 

The guy just stands there. He doesn't even blink at the threat. 

"Right." He says, looking at Tommy with what seems to be amusement in his eyes. This sets Tommy off even more. He was always an aggressive child and even though his urges to fight have been dulled over the years of neglect and verbal abuse, he finds himself completely willing to fight. Even if it would get him killed. He thinks that maybe he'd like to die with a little dignity instead of being put down like a rabid animal. 

"Don't condescend me, bitch!" Tommy is digging himself into a bigger hole. He knows it, the guard knows it, those two weirdos who are probably eavesdropping from outside of the door probably know it. The door that's closed- the door that's trapping Tommy in the room with this guy. Fuck. 

The guy hesitates. Then he steps away, as if sensing that his very presence is putting Tommy on edge. And then he sits. He looks strangely calm, relaxed even. As if they have all the time in the world to get acquainted. 

"I'm Technoblade," the guard says, his lips twisting into a smile. It would be calming if it weren't for those tusks that were accentuated by the movement. All Tommy can do is resist the urge to run. "What's your name, kid?"

The nickname does something to Tommy's brain. It makes him relax for a second, feeling like somebody actually sees him as the child that he is- something scared, something hurting, something small. Then Tommy returns to normal with a twitch and anger pulses through his body like blood. 

"I'm not a kid!" he retorts, feeling even more like a child now that he's arguing with this brutish guy. The guy named Technoblade, of all things. He thinks he recognises that name but he isn't sure. 

"Tell me your name or I'll keep calling you kid," Technoblade pauses. "Kid."

Tommy growls, doing all he can to stop his hands from trembling with fear and anger. For once he doesn't feel cold- the rage inside of him is lighting him like a candle, warming him as if he's by a hearth. 

Technoblade just raises an eyebrow, as if sensing that Tommy's threats are empty. They are, but it pisses Tommy off when he realises this guy knows that. He tries to get his anger under control, but he knows that if he stops being angry then he'll just be scared again. Scared and alone. The anger is a defence, it's keeping him safe- he hopes. 

Tommy inhales. Pauses. Thinks. 

"I'm Tommy."

"Hi, Tommy." Technoblade smiles at him again, this time making an attempt to hide his tusks a bit. 

Tommy relaxes, just a little. 

"Hey."

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Tommy doesn't know how to get used to these people. The palace that he's moved into - he refuses to call it a home, he's not getting his hopes up this time, he's already lost one and he's vowed not to lose another - is... different. It's situated in the far north, even colder than Logstedshire, but the fireplaces are always warm and he actually gets to experience the heat this time.  The servants are far kinder and they all told him their names, like they wanted to be on friendly terms with him, and sometimes people like Niki or Fundy give him a treat from the bakery in the city.

The people he's living with are much different as well. Techno is kinder than Tommy thought that he'd be and he uses his piglin strength for good, protecting the palace and the kingdom all at once. His red eyes are more often filled with gentleness than cruelty, especially when he's looking at Tommy. He feels like most people look at him and just- soften. 

It's actually...nice. It's nice for people to see him, he likes feeling like people care about him even if they actually don't. He has to keep reminding himself that even though they act like they want him, they don't. He's probably just a bargaining chip against his old home so they don't attack the Empire. He doesn't think they would attack because they're probably still scrambling to get reinforcements and to fix the castle. He tries to ignore that part of him that hopes his family is dead. 

He wonders if they miss him, even if he doesn't miss them. They probably don't.

---

The whole family, Philza, Wilbur and Techno, are waiting for him at the dining room table for breakfast. They've already started eating since Tommy wakes up in the late morning whereas Philza and Techno have usually been awake for hours.

"Morning, mate. Did you sleep okay?" Philza asks, his eyes crinkling kindly like they always do when Tommy is in his sights.

Tommy just nods, knowing it's probably out of politeness that the man asked. He knows better than to trick himself into thinking that people care about him. 

Techno and Philza are making silent conversation opposite him as he sits down next to Wilbur, who gently nudges him with his shoulder. Wilbur's main way of showing friendliness is physical contact, always holding hands with Niki or Fundy or one of his other friends, or braiding Techno's hair with gentle fingers, or brushing through Phil's feathered wings to make sure that they always look their best.

Tommy's not really used to being touched so Wilbur only ever does direct physical contact in brief instances, ruffling his hair for only a few seconds at a time before giving Tommy space to breathe, which he's immensely grateful for. The touch helps ground him when he's lost in memories, when a chill that doesn't exist anymore permeates his bones and makes him shiver.

He didn't use to feel comfortable doing it but now he does, so he nudges Wilbur back. He misjudges the strength and ends up pushing Wilbur out of his chair but all three men just laugh, Wilbur most of all with his howling laughter filling the room. Tommy laughs too, and he doesn't feel afraid to do it. He sees Techno smile at him encouragingly and he lets himself laugh louder.

Maybe they will let him stay. He hopes so.

---

It's only a few months later that his hopes come true. A treaty has been signed between Logstedshire and the Antarctic Empire so his old 'family' can't touch him even if they want to. Tommy gets to be in control of his decisions now and he's allowed to make the choice of whether he wants to stay or leave.

He stays.

His new family are as happy about it as he is. Techno's eyes are filled with warmth and joy, a small smile creeping up his usually stoic face. Wilbur's arms are instantly wrapped around him and he knows that he won't be realised for hours, but he doesn't mind. Philza usually keeps his distance a little because Tommy had once told him that he found him intimidating in an act of sudden bravery- but now, he's pressing his lips on the top of Tommy's hair and whispering the quiet words, "I love you."

Tommy isn't afraid anymore. He isn't afraid of the Antarctic Empire, he isn't afraid of his old family, and he certainly isn't afraid of his new one.

He isn't afraid of loving anymore either.

"I love you too."