Butterfly Reign

9. But Now I'm A Shadow

“It’s been eerily quiet for the past few months. I don’t have a good feeling about it,” Techno says. 

Too quiet , it echoes in Tommy’s mind, is never good .  The armchair he sits on suddenly becomes hard and uncomfortable. “I trust your judgment, but… is there at least a slim chance that your cautiousness is making you see threats where they don’t exist?”

“That’s the reason I didn’t want to talk to you about it yet. You tend to overthink more than I do, and I didn’t want to overwhelm you with something that I’m not sure about on top of your regular duties.”

Tommy presses his lips into a thin line. “I believe that protecting the Empire is also one of my responsibilities,” he argues. 

“That’s true,” Techno agrees, putting a hand over Tommy’s. “But it’s my responsibility to protect you .”

Tommy falls quiet. He stares at Techno’s hand, tracing a particularly long scar running from his thumb all the way down to his wrist. It’s almost exactly six years old – six years since Tommy’s investiture as the crown-prince of the Antarctic empire. 

Techno was far away from the capital when it happened. Even so, a few days later, the prince burst through the front gates, his horse huffing and sweating heavily under him. With his eyes glaring blood crimson, his cape fluttering behind his back as he crossed the palace in long, determined steps, people scattered away from him like dominoes. A stuttering servant came knocking on Tommy’s door, reporting that Prince Technoblade had just returned to the palace and was currently in the Northern wing. 

By the time Tommy made it to his father’s chambers, whatever conversation Techno and the Emperor might have had turned into a full-on argument. Neither of them ever were the shouting type; all the more terrifying it was to hear objects flying across the room, glass shattering, and something heavy falling on the floor. 

“- the same mistake as I did with Wilbur. He wasn’t ready, so he snapped.”

“So?” Techno’s tone made Tommy shudder. He has never heard his brother this angry before. “Are you going to make Theseus pay the price?”

Tommy tugged at the handle. He entered the room, closing the door behind himself, and scanned his surroundings with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Almost all the furniture was either overturned or misplaced; a heavy blue curtain, ripped off the window, lied pitifully under Father’s feet. Techno was across the room, next to a pile of broken glass. Blood flowed down his hand, dripping on a rug, but he didn’t seem to notice it at all. 

“Don’t blame Father,” Tommy said, his head drooping. “The Empire would not be stable without a clear heir. His Imperial Majesty didn’t even consider my candidature until I proposed it myself.”

“You’re eleven, Theseus,” Techno spat. “You’re too young to make that kind of choice.”

“Wilbur has been the crown-prince since he was six,” Tommy muttered. 

“It was a formality ! He didn’t perform any actual duties until his adulthood.”

Techno looked exasperated, angry, but more than anything – simply sad. It broke Tommy’s heart to see him like this. He wanted to come closer and comfort Techno, but Father had already beaten him to it.  

“We’ll take it slow,” he moved across the room, gently taking Techno’s injured hand into his own. Their father’s calm voice and unwavering confidence finally made his anger shrink and back away. Techno blinked numbly at the blood smearing both their fingers. “For now, I’m only going to start teaching Theseus the basics.”

Techno let out a long, exhausted sigh of defeat. He turned away from Father and approached Tommy, putting both his hands on his shoulders. The proximity of Techno’s eyes, the crystal honesty and sheer emotion in them was both terrifying and reassuring.