Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Technoblade hates Posada. He always has. He avoided it as much as he could whenever he was on the path, so he’s not really sure how he ended up here. The tavern around him is dark and musty, probably older than he is. The ale in his cup tastes like piss and the bard across the room isn’t really doing a good job. 

The other patrons seem to think the same as they start booing and throwing bread at him. The boy, perhaps 18 or 19, throws back glares in response, but still packs up his guitar. Or is it a lute? Techno doesn’t really care either way. Then he accidentally makes eye contact with the boy; his first mistake. 

The bard saunters his way to Techno’s table and takes the seat across from him. “Hello,” he smiles. 

Techno raises an eyebrow in response. 

“Have a review about my performance?” The bard flips his hair out of his eyes. Techno notes the slight vibration from his medallion. Interesting. 

“They aren’t real.” Techno settles on after a minute of thinking.  His second mistake.

This seems to catch the boy off guard. “Huh?”

“The creatures in your song, they aren’t real.”

The bard huffs what might be something between a laugh and a scoff. “And how would you know?”

Techno tilts his head, amused. “Because I’ve been alive longer than your name.” 

The bard mumbles something akin to I doubt that but moves on before Techno can dwell on it. “Oh ho ho ho. What do you have here? A large man with oddly colored eyes and hair, brooding in a corner by himself, with twin blades. You, my good sir, are a witcher aren’t you?”

Techno takes a gulp of his ale. The bard continues, undeterred by his silence. 

“And judging by the medallion around your neck, you must be the Blood God. The famous Butcher of Blaviken.” 

Techno narrows his eyes at that. “What happened in Blaviken is none of your business, bard.” 

The boy isn’t fazed. “Perhaps not, but what is happening here is my business. Why would the famous Blood God be here, on the outskirts of Posada of all places?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing.” 

“What, you don’t normally sit in the corner booth of taverns and brood with your ale and pink hair.”

Techno eyes the bard as he lounges in his seat. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Huh?” As the bard furrows his brow Techno notes that he is very expressive with his body language.

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned my hair. Do you not like it or something?” He has to fight to keep the smile off his face. He’s not sure if the boy can sense his teasing. Then he smiles and throws his head back in laughter and Techno has his answer. 

“No, it’s not that. I quite like your hair actually, though you could go for a nicer style.”

Techno runs a hand through his ponytail. He spends a few more minutes entertaining the bard before he gets up to leave. The bard follows him out of the tavern and up the mountain. Techno thinks that maybe he can lose the boy if he mounts Carl but his thoughts are interrupted by an odd sound. 

A rustling in the dry leaves a few feet from the dirt road. He stops in his tracks. For the first time he realizes where they are. In a small valley of sorts. High red clay walls surround the path. Half dead trees and bushes decorate the sides. The perfect place for an ambush, he thinks with a start. There’s a flash of something in the distance but Techno reacts too late. 

The bard is down on the ground before he can draw his blade. As Techno turns to face their attacker he feels arms grab him from behind. He tries to fight his way out of their grip, but he only receives a hit to the back of his head for the efforts. The hit doesn’t really do anything but make his ears ring. The second one blurs his vision and the third makes things start to fade. 

By the time he’s fully aware of his surroundings, Techno regrets ever going near Posada. He attempts to move his hands only to find them tied to a person behind him. He assumes it’s the bard. The cave around them is obviously well lived in. There are rustic decorations, furniture, and a basic stove. For a moment Techno is purely confused. This looks like someone’s house. Why are they tied up in someone’s house?

A curtain shifting catches his attention. Through the doorway walks a tall thin figure. They wear deep blue linen with gold accents. Once the clothing might have been fit for a king, but now it’s so worn it’s almost sad. Their hair is braided with a simple silver circlet resting between the curls. Techno is lost on the significance to this person until they turn to face him. Red irises meet pure white. Oh. 

“Well, well, it seems you’re awake.” They have a deep, regal, voice. Something fit for a king. 

“Yes, it’s wonderful. Can you tell us exactly why we’re tied up in your humble abode?” The bard is angry. Which is understandable, in all honesty. 

The figure sweeps their way over to the bard. At the sight of them he loses his words. They kneel in front of him before leaning back. “Only if you tell me why you are wandering around our mountain. Especially together. An odd pair you make; a witcher and a-” 

“We were just walking.” The bard interrupts. Techno can hear the way his heartbeat increases. Whatever it was they were about to say is something he doesn’t want Techno to know. “I swear on the old gods!”

“On the old gods? Interesting.” They take a step back into Techno’s line of sight. 

“We did not mean to cause any trouble, your majesty.” Techno inclines his head, the best he can do while still tied to a bard. 

“Your Majesty?” Said bard questions. “You’re royalty?”

“Ah, yes, how rude of me. I am Eret.”

The bard stirs. “Eret? As in Monarch Eret? Ruler of the Elves?”

Eret smiles a bit, but it seems forced. “That would be correct.”

“But I thought you were dead?” His words are soft, almost sad. 

Techno leans his head back with a sigh. Eret loses their smile all together. “So that’s what the humans are saying about me. How lovely. No, I am very much alive. As are a number of my people. No matter what propaganda the humans speak, we still live.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Techno jolts with a heh? Did the bard just apologize? 

Eret furrows their brow at him. “I do not need your pity, bard.”

“No, but I’m not offering it. All I offer is my sympathy. I, too, know what it’s like to watch your people die.” 

Eret dons a sad smile. They reach down to cut the ropes keeping the bard and Technoblade together. Once they are up Eret offers them both apologies and food. 

“By the way,” the bard starts when they finish their meal. “My name is William, but my friends call me Wilbur.”

Techno glances up to see the other two looking at him expectantly. “Uhhh, my name is Technoblade.” 

There’s a knowing glint in Eret’s eyes as they nod. The group spends a few hours together before Techno tries to take his leave. William follows after him with a small skip in his step. The bard continues to talk about their small adventure. 

“It’s amazing really. I never thought I would meet someone with such a large historical importance. The elves deserve so much more respect than the humans give them.” 

Techno glances at Carl. William suddenly stops talking. There’s a moment of quiet concern as he kneels to the ground at the edge of the road. He lets out an exaggerated gasp. 

“Techno! Look!” 

Technoblade looks over William’s shoulder to see a small black and white cat staring up at them. Wil lets out a small coo. The cat meows at them before flopping on the ground, revealing its belly to the sky. Wil gasps again before singing a small jig. 

“Silly! Silly motherfucker with his arms in the air. Silly motherfucker with his arms in the air. Silly motherfucker!”

Techno can’t help but huff in amusement as William pets the cat before standing up as if nothing happened. He starts talking again, this time about how he’s going to make a song from their adventure together. 

“Why do you want to make a song?” Techno questions.

“I’m a bard, Technoblade, it’s what I do.”

“But why me?”

“You told me my songs were about things that aren’t real. Our adventure, what we just went through, that was real.” William strums his guitar (or lute? Techno still doesn’t know the difference) before singing a verse. 

From when the Blood God fought

A silver-tongued devil

His army of elves

At his hooves did they revel

“What happened to the elves deserving more respect?” Techno mumbles from behind the bard. 

William turns around to meet Techno’s eyes. For a moment it’s just red and brown. Then William gives a sad smile. 

“Respect doesn’t make history.” 

“William-”

“Please, Technoblade, I said my friends call me Wilbur.”

“Alright, Wilbur, I think you’re full of it.”

Techno laughs as Wilbur lets out an undignified squawk of protest. He’s actually offended until Techno hides his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with laughter. Wilbur smiles with a small giggle then starts to strum his guitar again. 

Chapter Text

Temeria has some of the worst winters. They say it’s because of the sea, that it brings harsh wind and harsher snow. Technoblade doesn’t really care. Every year he passes through the kingdom to get to the keep for the winter. Only this time he hears word of a dead witcher near the capital. In a panic he goes to investigate. 

Thankfully, it is no one he knows. The medallion hanging around the corpse’s neck tells of griffin origins. Techno takes the medallion anyway. He can give it to Jack when he reaches Alderth. Jack is one of the only Griffin witchers left, he spends his time at Alderth in the winter with Techno, Phil, and a handful of other misplaced witchers. 

When the medallion is securely in his bag Technoblade turns and meets a pair of blue eyes with his own. 

“Hello.” A mage. Dressed in blue wool and grey fur. Most likely the advisor to King Foltest, the acting ruler of Temeria. She’s much shorter than Techno, but she holds herself with an air of regality more intimidating than most kings he’s ever met. 

“Uh, hullo.”

The mage looks from Techno to the body behind him. In the low light of the crypt her hair gleams a deep pink, much warmer than his own. “Was he a friend of yours?”

Techno glances at the corpse. “No. No one I knew.”

“My condolences all the same. I know your numbers are dwindling in recent years.” 

Techno sighs. She’s right of course. Ever since the sacking of Kaer Morhen, over a century ago, no new witchers have been made. The process was lost along with countless lives that night. 

“We’ll survive. Do you know what killed him?”

The mage straightens her back and motions Techno forward. “I’m hoping you could tell me that. This is the seventh body we’ve found in the last fortnight. One of my colleagues did an autopsy, only the liver and the heart were missing.”

Techno considers her words as they walk through the damp halls of the crypt. A striga is the most probable monster he can think of. He tells the mage such. 

“A striga? I know very little about them, how unfortunate.” Her brows furrow in thought.

“Not necessarily.” Techno stops at the entrance to the crypt. Beyond the door warm sunlight reflects off the snow. The brightness hurts his eyes. “Striga's, while rare, can be cured.” 

“Cured?” 

“Striga’s are made through curses. We don’t know who the striga is, but if we find out, we might be able to find a way to lift the curse.”

Light dances in the mage’s icy eyes. Techno can feel her conviction as she speaks. “We should check the old castle. There are rumors that a monster lives there, but no one goes near it. If we leave now we can make it before sundown.”

Techno glances to the shimmering golden light outside. A sort of deep resignation rattles in his old bones. Witchers kill to save lives, Philza’s words ring in his head. “Lead the way.”

When the mage said ‘old castle’ Techno didn’t think she meant ‘completely abandoned and desolate’, yet the crumbling ruin standing before them spoke otherwise. The stone cracks under their feet as they climb the once grand stairs. A veil of stillness surrounds them as they make their way through the main hall. 

“I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself,” the mage says from in front of Techno. She holds a torch out, lighting the halls of the ruin. “I am Nihachu of Ebbing. But you can call me Niki.”

Techno inclines his head with a small smile, “Technoblade of Kovir.”

“So tell me, Technoblade, how does a southern witcher find themselves this far north so late in the year?” Niki rounds a corner trusting that Techno will follow.

He does. 

“I am going back to my keep.” Niki glances back, curious. Her questions are unspoken, Techno understands them nonetheless. “My keep, Karthmere, was destroyed some time ago. As you said before, our numbers are dwindling. I am the last of my school, as are many others. We spend our winters together at the school of the crow.”

Niki pushes open a door to a bedroom. Once it might have been grand. High ceilings, large north facing windows, a hearth on the opposite wall. Time has taken that beauty, leaving in his wake broken furniture and layers of dust. 

“I’m glad that you have people to go back to.” Niki’s voice is quiet, but Techno hears it all the same. 

“Do you? Have people to go back to, I mean?” Techno curses his inability to be social. He’s not eloquent like Wilbur nor extraverted like Dream. But he hopes his empathy can win Niki over. 

“I did once, but they are long gone. You know as well as I that we cannot hold onto humans like we used to.”

It’s the way she says it that makes Techno stop. “You say that as if you aren’t human.”

Niki looks up at him from the hearth. A knowing smile graces her face as she moves a bit of bubblegum hair. He has to hold back the heh? that threatens to be heard, but techno understands. Her ears are pointed. Niki is an elf. The respect that Techno has for the mage grows tenfold. 

“You are very far north” for an elf. Niki understands the meaning behind his words. 

“It’s dangerous, I know. But I have to make a living somehow. When I was a child I wanted to own a bakery. Sometimes I still dream of it. Living a life without danger. Not waking up every day terrified that someone will try to kill me because of what I am. Though I guess I’m preaching to the choir.” She calmly makes her way to the other side of the room where a desk lay. Her back is to him as he responds. 

“Dangerous, yes, but also courageous. I’ve known hundreds of men who could never do the same.” 

NIki looks at him over her shoulder. The smile she dons makes Techno a bit uneasy. That gleam from before is back. “Then I guess it’s good I am not a man.”

Techno can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from his chest. A harmony fills the still air as Niki’s laugh joins. They turn back to the various draws and cabinets in the room. The stillness returns as they search. Only to be disturbed by the broken notes of a music box coming to life. 

Technoblade turns to see Niki holding a pile of letters. He watches as her eyes skim the words, brows furrowing with each passing word. The sad tune of the forgotten music box echoing in the room around them. 

“What is it?” He asks. 

“Letters. From Foltest’s sister, Adda.”

“She’s dead right? Buried in the crypts?” Techno turns back to the mantel, swiping his finger through the layer of dust there. 

“Yeah. It seems she was in love with whoever she wrote these to. They had a secret relationship. Oh. Oh. She was pregnant.” Niki covers her mouth with her left hand. Her right clenches the letters. 

“So,” Techno reasons. “Someone wasn’t happy that Adda was. They try to perform a curse on her. It doesn’t work, instead of Adda receiving the curse…”

He can hear the way Niki’s heart speeds up at the horror of the situation. “Instead, her daughter gets it. The striga is a princess.” Her voice shakes as she reads the letters again. 

A wave of something akin to anger settles deep in Technoblade’s stomach. Humans never cease to disappoint. She was a child and yet she faced the wrath of a jealous man. 

Technoblade takes in the room surrounding them. His footsteps are slow as he makes his way around the perimeter. Near the bed he finds it. Old, but still there. A smell. A singular smell that anyone else would miss. Someone else had been there. Recently . 

As he opens his mouth to speak a small clatter catches his attention. He turns his head, listening closely to the corridor. Footsteps. Someone is here. 

Technoblade points to the door before putting a finger over his mouth. Niki nods her head and follows Techno as he moves to stand next to the door, completely out of sight for anyone who enters. 

A man makes his way into the room. He smells of cow shit and looks as though he might have bathed in it. His footsteps are heavy as he walks towards the bed. Niki pushes the door closed. The loud bang echoes eerily though the empty castle. The man jumps, falling face first into the pile of dust and blankets. 

His heart races at the sight of the two pink haired people. Techno is glad that Niki’s glare isn’t directed at him. He wonders for a moment how anyone dismisses such a woman. 

“What- what are you doing in here?” The man’s voice trembles. He grasps for a hold onto anything, landing on a pillow. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” Niki’s voice, while soft and accented, is cold and calculated. 

“I-” The man falters before opening his mouth again. “I was just checking the room. Sometimes the guards send us to do it because they aren’t allowed in the castle.”

By the way his heart beat increases Technoblade can tell the man is lying. Though Niki, who can’t hear a man’s heartbeat from a mile away, also seems to come to the same conclusion. “Who are you?”

The man swallows but does not answer. His eyes dart from the door, blocked by Niki, to the windows, blocked by Technoblade. Techno considers the man before him. Greasy hair, dirty hands, and a crooked nose. He is an estate worker of some kind, most likely a farm or stable hand from the smell. Yet, the way his eyes scan the room, it’s almost as if he knows it. As if he’s been here many times before. 

As subtle as he can, Techno smells the air around them. When he finds it hasn’t changed with the new arrival, he has his answer. 

“I think the better question,” he rumbles into the heavy silence, “is who were you to Princess Adda?” 

The man whirls to face him, anger and shock alike pulling at his features. Niki doesn’t turn, but it’s obvious her interest is piqued. The man stumbles up from the bed, attempting and failing to appear intimidating. 

“What does Adda have anything to do with this?” 

“Well, this was her highness's bedchamber and we caught you sneaking in with an invalid excuse. Perhaps it would be in your best interest to answer our questions.” Niki folds her hands in front of her, the perfect picture of calm confidence. 

“Or what?” The man sneers, chest puffed up in false bravado. “You’ll send your pet witcher after me?”

Techno can’t help but roll his eyes. One would think after all these years the humans would at least have interesting insults, but no. As resilient as they are, humans aren’t very creative. 

“Oh, no. My friend here won’t lay a hand on you.” Niki smiles at the man. The sight makes a chill of something akin to fear run down Techno’s spine. “It’s me you have to worry about.” 

The man’s face pales. Techno huffs a laugh, even though he would be terrified to be on Niki’s bad side, it’s still amusing watching this fool of a man squirm. 

“So, are you her lover?” Techno asks. The man turns his gaze to the Witcher. His mouth opens but no words are heard. 

“No.” Niki interrupts. “He’s not. He definitely loved her. But he was not her lover.”

“How can you tell?”

Niki’s gaze bores into the man’s. “A real lover would not sneak into a desolate castle to find remembrance. They would have other means. I believe this man is the one who cast the curse.”

Technoblade wonders how Niki came to that conclusion. Is there a piece of evidence he’s missing? Then he decides he doesn’t care. This guy is obviously a piece of shit. He just needs to know how to reverse the curse.  

He says this aloud to the room. Niki draws a knife from her belt and begins to fiddle with it, a thinly veiled threat to the man. The poor fool begins to sputter about how he learned an incantation from a traveling shaman. He was told it would make Adda fall in love with him. 

“Magic is a fickle thing,” Niki says.

“Can you bring her back?” False hope laces the man’s voice. 

“No. Necromancy is forbidden in Temeria. And even if it weren’t I would not help with such an act.” 

“Why not? She didn’t deserve to die.”

Niki’s face hardens in anger. Her accent becomes stronger as she spits her next words. “Thousands of people don’t deserve to die. Women and children are slaughtered because they are different. I will not attempt to break the laws of life because you were obsessed with a woman who already had a lover.”

The man’s eyes find Techno’s, as if searching for help. “Don’t look at me man, she’s the boss. Plus she’s right. What’s dead is meant to stay dead.”

The man sighs and slumps onto the bed. He tells them what he remembered of the incantation. Most of it is in Elvish and while the man struggles to understand it, Niki and Techno do not. 

“That’s all I remember.” He mumbles when he finishes. The mage turns to Techno and tilts her head towards the hearth. Techno follows her there. 

“It’s rough to translate such a crude form of my language, but I think the Striga must be kept from her resting place until the crow caws three times? That is all I could understand.”

Realization dawns on him. “Not a crow, a cock. The Striga has to be kept out of the crypt until the sun rises.”

Niki’s wide eyes land on his. “How are you going to do that?”

With a roll of his shoulders Techno huffs. “I don’t know.” He eyes the man on the other side of the room. “But perhaps bait will help.”

Niki smiles. 

-

‘Simple’ isn’t the best word to describe the plan. While in theory it is: keep the striga away from her nest. However, it’s not that easy in practice. After some stubborn arguing Niki agreed to go back to the main castle for safety. Techno then chained the man to Adda’s bed. Now he waits. 

He’s found his way to the main hall of the desolate building. As he looks around, Techno once again finds himself imagining his surroundings in its former glory. Brilliant golden chandeliers, lavish plush seating, and stained glass intricate enough to rival any temple. Techno doesn't think he would have ever ended up in such a place. Maybe in another life he was in charge, a king or an emperor, but he would never let himself live such a falsely beautiful life. If Adda’s death, or her daughter’s life, was anything to go by. 

Scraping catches his attention. It’s a sharp sound, high in pitch. Speak of the devil, Techno thinks to himself. He stands straighter in his place, slowly scanning his surroundings. He had chosen the hall for its lack of hiding stops and exits. A few tables litter the room and only two doorways are unblocked. With a deep breath the witcher draws one of his swords. 

A creature appears in one of the open archways. Mauled grey skin stares at him. Thin reddish hair falls in stringy waves down her back while large talon-like claws drag on the floor behind her. She is, for all intents and purposes, ugly.  

What a hideous creature. Wilbur’s voice rings in his head. His lips twitch at that. The bard has a way of following him around, even if just in his thoughts. Dye her hair pink and you’ll be twins! 

Deep rumbles fill the stagnant air. The creature moves like a hunter, slow and calculated. “Alright,” Techno says aloud. “Let’s do this.”

The creature lunges. 

- 

The first light of the morning peaks through shattered stained glass windows. It caresses Techno’s face like the soft touch of a mother. (Not that he has much memory of that.) Footsteps rush towards him. Judging by the gait they belong to Niki.

Then the pink haired mage kneels in front of him. He gives her a strained smile.

“Are you okay?” Her words are rushed as she checks him over, looking for injury. While battered and bruised, and bleeding in a few places, Technoblade is fine. He tells Niki as such. The mage releases a sigh of relief before turning to look at the ragged form of a young girl on the ground beside them. Her form is wrapped in Techno’s cloak, her head pillowed by a spare cushion from a bedroom. 

“You did it.” Niki doesn’t sound surprised, but the joy in her voice is something Techno can get used to hearing. 

“‘Course I did. Wasn’t gonna just kill her.” Techno glances at the girl before wiping at the bloody cut on his arm. 

“Many men would.” Perhaps Niki expects him to argue. To claim that he is different from the other men she refers to. But he doesn’t. He cannot argue with what he sees, knows, to be true. His years of being shunned and attacked by those same men have given him an insight. 

“They would. But now she will be safe, and that is all that matters.”

The mage nods in agreement to his words before moving to take a seat next to him. The broken furniture and crushed stone around them tells just how their battle went, but Niki does not mention it. 

“I found out who her father is.” Niki says into the air in a quiet voice. Techno feels a bit silly as he turns his head. But after a night of fighting for his life, doing something silly is what he needs. “King Foltest. Apparently, Adda’s lover was none other than her own brother.”

Techno’s face crunches up in disgust at her words, but tells her to continue with what she found. It’s almost as if they are sharing gossip over tea, and not waiting for the King to come rescue his daughter. 

“Thank you.” 

Techno turns towards her as they watch the guards take the princess back to the castle. Niki stands beside him, staring up at him with kind eyes. “What for?”

“For listening to me. For helping. I greatly appreciate it.”

“Of course. It’s my job.”

There’s a knowing glint in the mage’s eyes. “Your job is to kill monsters. Yet you do so much more.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Techno brushes off the compliment, but his heart warms with the words. 

“Next time you’re in Temeria, feel free to come find me. I would love to have tea sometime.”

“Oh, so we can gossip in a lavish room rather than an abandoned castle?”

Niki practically beams. “Obviously.”

Techno can’t help but laugh.

Chapter Text

Finding other witchers on the path isn’t rare. It’s not common, but Technoblade is no longer surprised by the occasional meeting. So, when he arrives at a small northern village to see a man in green outside the alderman’s house he’s not shocked. He is, however, a bit annoyed.

As soon as he hears Techno’s footsteps the man is whirling around to face him. Blonde hair dances in the wind while green eyes crinkle from behind his face covering. He extends an arm out in a wave as Techno makes his way towards him.

“Techno! Good to see you old friend!” Dream’s eyes absolutely gleam. The wolf witcher pats the neck of his stallion, Spirit if Techno remembers correctly. Carl flicks his ears but otherwise remains silent. Never did Techno think he would envy a horse so much.

“Hello , Dream. You are rather far north for this time of year.” He usually spends his time in the southern kingdoms with his mage friend, George. Techno has ever seen him north of Cintra.

“Yeah, I’m headed back to Kaer Morhen.”

“It’s only August?” Techno knocks at the Alderman’s door, hoping someone will answer and his socialization will be cut to an end.

“I’ve received word that something has happened. A group of idiot humans probably decided to try and vanquish the last of the ‘evil mutants’ or something else just as ridiculous.” Dream waves his hands as he speaks. He doesn’t seem too concerned about the state of his keep, but Techno trusts that he knows his family better. If Dream thinks the remaining wolf witchers are safe, then Techno believes him. As annoying and a pain in the ass the man is, he’s a hell of a witcher. “After the original sacking it’s not like there’s much else left anyway.”

Techno hums. He understands, maybe more than most. His own keep, Karthmere, was destroyed by humans as well. He tolerated his few years there, but he’d rather spend his time at Alderth, the school of the crow. Philza, the last of the crow witchers and head of the keep, welcomes any stray witchers he can find. Which nowadays, is quite a few.

The creaking of the door has Techno turning to face a portly man, dressed as if he were a cheap version of a king, bright colors and gaudy fabrics no actual royal would ever consider wearing. He can see Dream scowl out of the corner of his eye.

“What do you want?” The man spits out.

Techno can feel Dream’s eye roll. “We’re here about the ghoul nest. You posted an ad in the town square?”

“And why does it take two fucking witchers to kill some ghouls?”

For a moment Techno considers just killing the man. Would he really be missed? Not with any witnesses whispers Niki’s voice in his head.

“It doesn’t, we arrived here separately. Though we’d be happy to leave. From the sound of your dismissing tone, you have the situation under control.” His voice is so sweet it makes Techno’s teeth hurt. Dream turns and takes a step towards the road when the Alderman stops him.

“Wait.” Dream’s eyes crinkle in a telltale smile as he turns back around. “You’ll have to split the coin.”

The walk to the nest makes Techno want to rip his hair out. While Dream is a lot to handle alone, the Alderman's attitude hasn’t helped his mood. And now Dream won’t shut. The. fuck. Up.

“And when I told him that eating the thing’s head was a bad idea did he listen to me? No! Can you believe it, Techno? I was just trying to make sure he didn’t get himself sick and he straight up ignored me.”

“Uh huh.”

“And then when I refused to take care of his sick ass he complained, as if I were the one at fault for eating something that came from an ent. Like, c’mon man…are you listening to me?”

“Uh, definitely.”

“Right so then George and I were laughing at him, cause he’s suffering the consequences of his own actions, but being a whiny bitch about it- did you hear that?” Dream suddenly stops. Techno slows down and looks around them.

“Hear what? The blessed silence? It’s amazing.”

“Ha ha, you know what I mean you idiot.” Dream draws his axe.

“I mean, I don’t, but-” A low growl reverberates in the forest around them. The medallion around his neck begins to vibrate.

Dream side eyes Techno as a ghoul, a foul smelling and slimy monstrosity, clambers its way out of a nearby crack in the rocks. Its skin squelches as it slowly crawls towards the pair of witchers.

“Hey, I think I found the ghoul nest” Techno says, raising a hand to point at the rock wall. Another slimy face appears in the darkness.

Even with half his face covered, Dream’s grimace is still very visible. “I always forget how gross these fuckers are.”

Techno casually unsheathes his steel blade, takes a step forward, and with one quick swipe the ghoul is falling to the ground, sans one head. Normally ghouls are faster and more vicious, but this nest seems to be made up of starving and elderly monsters.

“I hate how casually you do that, I hope you know” Dream kicks the severed ghoul head away from his foot.

Techno tries his hardest to suppress his smile. He may be awkward and bad with people, but he'll be damned if he can’t kill a monster. It’s what he does, what he was made for. “You may have mentioned.”

“Wanna have a competition?”

The competition (who could kill the most ghouls (Techno won)) makes clearing the nest even quicker than he thought possible. In under two hours the pair are making the trek back to the Alderman’s house, a head in hand as proof. The entirety of the way Dream continues to talk. Mostly about the cat he adopted at Kaer Morhen ( a tabby named Patches). But occasionally rumors he heard in passing or court drama he heard from George.

He’s remarking on a tale of a princess being caught with her lover as they reach the Alderman’s house. Techno knocks on the door before turning back to his companion.

“And apparently, she was sleeping with her lady in waiting. Their rooms were conjoined so no one else was suspected-”

“So they were roommates?” Techno asks, leaning against the wall. He doesn’t necessarily care about anything Dream is saying, but seeing the man so invested is almost endearing.

Dream’s eyes widen with childish glee, “oh my gods, they were roommates!”

The door creaks open slowly, interrupting their conversation. A short, young woman with deep red hair eyes them. She holds herself in a relatively calm manner, but Techno can see a patch of deep red staining the hem of her skirt, and it seems rather fresh if the smell is anything to go by.

“Can I help you?” Her voice is light, enough so that it’s easy to hear the strain behind it.

“Is the alderman here?”

“Uh, no. He’s out currently.”

“Oh, okay. We cleared the ghoul nest and we’re here to collect payment.

The woman’s shoulders drop, in relief or exhaustion, Techno doesn’t know. She turns to retrieve something from the parlor. The door inches open, revealing a rug, rolled and covered in the same deep red as the woman’s skirt. She returns, effectively blocking Techno’s view of the house's interior.

“Here’s double. Have a good day.”

“Good day ma’am!” Dream quickly takes his horse's reins and walks to the road, Techno not far behind. They are well out of the town limits before either speaks.

“That was the Alderman’s wife.” Dream muses aloud.

Technoblade hums in agreement.

“That was the Alderman, wrapped in the bloody rug.”

Another hum.

“She killed her husband.”

“Without a doubt.”

Dream has to stop walking. He's laughing so hard. He wheezes and gasps, as if he’s never laughed a day in his life. As if nothing has ever brought him more joy than learning that a woman just killed someone. He’s doubled over, leaning on Spirit for support. Techno thinks he sounds like a tea kettle. The thought alone makes him chuckle along.

“I’m light headed I just laughed SO hard!” Dream gets out between gasps of air.

“Good for her,” Techno says.

Dream only laughs harder.