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Look. Tommy knows that he’s not supposed to venture too far into the woods. He knows that the deepest part of the forest are where fae live, and if you stumble across where fae live, you’ll never come back.
Tommy knows this, but it’s just that— well. It’s just that Techno is really, really nice.
Sure, sometimes he smiles and his teeth gleam a little strangely in the light. Sometimes Tommy thinks in a voice that’s not his own, I never, ever want to leave, and then he blinks, the feeling of Techno’s hand carding through his hair a warm and solid presence.
Techno is gentle in a way no one else has been with Tommy in a long, long time. He’s been living in the streets since he was seven, and that was only three years ago. Until he met Techno a few months ago, his life had been the same repetition of rain and hunger and hurt.
But Techno is better than anything the village has ever offered Tommy. His fae ring is as wide as the whole clearing, and when Tommy comes inside, none of the scary animals in the woods can even see him! He gets to eat berries, and run around in the grass while Techno watches with an amused glint in his eyes. Techno is a very odd-looking fae. Obviously Tommy’s never seen any other, but Techno’s ears are so pointy, and his eyes are so big and round and shiny. Tommy’s fascinated by everything about him.
When Tommy first met Techno, he was very scared. He hadn’t meant to run so far into the woods—he was just trying to get away from the villager’s mean dogs, who chased him all the way to the clearing, where they skidded to a stop and barked angrily. Tommy gasped in glee, because he was safe here! The dogs couldn’t hurt him!
The fae that appeared in the center of the clearing might have, though.
Techno was tall and lean, with a ruffled white shirt like the kings Tommy’d seen in the history books. He had long, pink hair, with flowers and little gold trinkets interwoven in the loosely braided strands, and his fingers were covered in gold rings that glinted funnily in the sunlight. He eyed Tommy with fascination, pink hair framing his odd-looking face, and Tommy instantly ran away screaming.
But something about the clearing, and something about the fae, kept drawing Tommy back, and he found himself actually enjoying the hours he spent in the woods, forgetting about the mean people outside the little bubble of magic.
Point is. He knows fae are supposed to be evil and scary, and yeah, Techno’s not exactly good, but he’s not mean, and he never, ever hurts Tommy.
Not like the mothers and fathers who scream and kick when they find him burrowed in their basements, like he’s some kind of feral animal. Not like the shopkeepers who find him scavenging for food in their dumpsters, and chase him halfway across the village. Usually, he can outrun them, but today he trips over a tree root and is sent sprawling to the ground.
A foot connects with his shin and he yelps, scrambling, but a hand grabs the scruff of his shirt and he’s yanked in front of the angry shopkeeper’s face.
“Third time this week!” the man roars, spit flying in Tommy’s face. “Third time, you little pest!”
But I was hungry, Tommy thinks quietly in the back of his head as another kick makes contact with his stomach. And you have so much bread in your trash.
He’s thrown onto the ground, and one of his wrists makes a horrible snapping sound. Oh, no.
The shopkeeper picks him up again and throws him back down. His shoulder shudders weirdly, and his whole arm tingles.
“Techno,” is the whisper that slips out of his mouth like a prayer, like something holy. “Techno, Techno, Techno.”
He’s slammed to the ground again, and he thinks he might have blacked out for a second. When he stumbles to his feet, swaying, the man reaches for him, and a terrible, inhuman shriek fills the air.
Tommy watches with wide eyes as Techno grows out of the ground like a poisonous flower, long, golden sword held tightly in his hands. Without another sound he drives the blade through the shopkeeper’s chest, and the wound hisses. The air smells like burnt flesh.
“Mine,” Techno snarls, voice distorting with anger as tears flow from the shopkeeper’s eyes. “He is mine, you disgustin’, worthless piece of shit. How dare you even touch him.”
The man’s screams of agony are muffled as Techno turns to Tommy, lifting him easily into his arms.
“Thank you for callin’ me,” the fae—the monster, Tommy realizes faintly, and finds he doesn’t really care that much—whispers against his curls, lips pressed reverently to his head. His voice is gentle, so much softer than when he screamed at the man, and Tommy wants to wrap himself in the reassurance forever. “Thank you for letting me save you, little one.”
Little one. It’s what Techno’s been calling him since the day they met, because Tommy might be stupid enough to spend hours every day with a fae, but he’s not stupid enough to give said fae his name.
Or is it stupid? How could it be, when Tommy would already choose Techno over every horrible human he’s very known?
“Tommy,” Tommy says slowly and carefully. “My name is Tommy.”
Techno looks down sharply at him. His eyes are gleaming. “Your name?”
Tommy nods fiercely. He’s made his choice. He doesn’t want to go back to the village. He wants to stay in the woods with Techno, eating berries and braiding hair. “My name.”
Techno’s grin is practically animal, but Tommy doesn’t mind. He just buries closer to Techno’s elegant shirt, breathing in the thick smell of flowers and oranges and something strangely magical.
“My name is Technoblade,” Techno says as he carries Tommy further into the woods. Oh. This is a trade, Tommy thinks, and it feels like one—his skin buzzes and he shivers, slightly. The odd power of it all feels… weird. Tingly. Like a fluttering butterfly in his blood.
“That’s a pretty name,” Tommy says quietly. The woods hum around them, and the air is thick with fae magic. He looks up at Techno. “Am I staying with you?”
Techno’s hold around him tightens, just slightly. Answering Tommy’s question before he even speaks aloud. “Yes,” he says fiercely. “No leavin’. You’re here forever.”
“That sounds nice,” Tommy mumbles. His eyelids are growing heavier and heavier, and it’s getting harder to stay awake. “R’lly nice.”
“Go to sleep, Tommy,” Techno says softly. “You’re safe now.” The last thing Tommy feels is soft hair against his hand and buzzing fae magic washing over his skin.