Chapter Text
Technoblade feels as though he was born of snow and ice and glacier. They are not delicate hands that hold him—teach him to stand, to walk, to run—but when he steps outside and freezing air grasps him down to the bone, he is held nonetheless.
He adds the caveat feels because he was not actually born from something so above him as a force of nature. Techno certainly has a mother of some kind, even if he can not remember anyone of the sort. It is obvious because no one is born out here at all. The subarctic lands where he resides, that stretch on and on further than anyone has walked, do house life. It is not quite a wasteland, nor so cruel. Forests swallow the landscape readily, and animals flock together, just enough warmth wrapped under their layers of fat to make it to the earth softened days of summer.
The land must be just too far on the side of harsh for a human baby to survive though. Techno knows they’re small and weak, remembers being not quite that small, but just barely so, when the winter air touched his crying face and froze the moisture away.
He remembers just as fine the wretched green tent he was cast away in. Cast away from the kingdom who couldn’t stand to spare him a second more of warmth than he deserved. The tent kept him alive for over a week, just barely, but that’s longer than it gives most. Perhaps the cold took pity on him, raised the temperature just enough that his heart could keep beating regardless of the sleet running through his veins. Maybe it was just dumb luck.
Man would second the latter. Or spring something new perhaps; talk of how some people don’t deserve the soft embrace of death. No, Techno is much more used to harsh embraces. He wouldn’t recognize death enough to give in. And, he’d whisper, Techno’s not quite human enough to stand amongst most people, even as a baby. That’s innoquivacly true and why he’s here to begin with. Not enough fear in a swift death for his kind, banished them to something long and ugly instead.
It’s not something to ponder on for long, maybe only when the night twists his stomach into knots too tight to sleep through or the dawn is obscured by fog too thick to breathe through.
It is not one of those times just yet, sun risen and broth just thick enough to not constitute water. And so, Techno begins his day with no more complaints (well maybe a couple complaints, but who’s there to listen?), and as much vigor as one could muster when extremely below freezing temperatures are imminent.
Wrapped in as many layers of clothes as Techno can still walk in, he opens the front door of the cabin and whistles shakily through his elongated canines as cold air blusters against his cheeks. A happy bark is the only response, a large white fluffy dog tumbling past him into the thick layer of snow on the ground. Quickly closing the door to keep the heat in for later, Techno feels a smile slip onto his lips as he watches Em excitedly get her early morning energy out.
From the descriptions of the subarctic, loneliness might be a word that comes to mind. Techno isn’t much bothered in that aspect. He’s unsure if he’s ever not been truly alone. He’s lived with other people for periods of time—needed to have to even be alive today. But they were as much company as you’d consider a stove or axe. Necessary. Useful. Not the substance of relationships.
In truth though, even if Techno’s the only person in hundreds of miles around, with Em the loneliness doesn’t sting badly. He didn’t even realize the pain was there before he found Em. Like until a salve was applied to the wound, Techno hadn’t even registered he was cut. Em seems to like him a lot too, so Techno is… satisfied.
After a few more seconds of facing the cold to watch Em dance around and bite at snow flurries, Techno turns to the small barn beside the cabin. The change in temperature is noticeable when entering it, despite the building not being heated. The insulation is enough to keep the knobbly cow inside alive. She moos morosely at him. There used to be a few more cows in the herd, but now he's just down to the one. She’s a dependable cow that takes the winters well, so Techno won’t complain. He gives her a few solid pats to her side.
Techno notes her posture and body condition while milking her. She seems to be taking the winter well, as evident by the nearly half a gallon of milk she produces. It’s a good amount for this time of year. Taking care of a cow on his own is a bit of extra work, but definitely worth it for the additional source of food. He and Em would never turn their noses up at a bowl of milk.
Techno pushes the bucket of milk away from the cow’s feet before she can accidentally tip it over and cleans up her udders. She lets out a huffing noise, obviously growing annoyed at all the poking and pulling. Techno smiles a bit and pets her back while standing. He’ll leave her alone till she needs to graze later.
Em meets him upon stepping outside of the barn, knocking into him with her nose as Techno hefts the bucket further in the air to avoid spilling any.
“Calm down, calm down. You’ll get your breakfast soon,” Techno says. He tries to stay stern with Em, but she’s wagging so hard she’s almost knocking herself over. It’s a ridiculous sight and makes Techno snort.
The heat of the house pours over him, eliciting a pleased sigh. He shoos Em over to the fire with his boots and coats so she won’t drip water all over the cabin as the snow caught in her fur melt. He tugs his tail free of his outer layers, letting it swing out any cramps it accumulated while held still outside. It’s uncomfortable, but much less so ,than frostbite, so he puts up with it. He sets the milk bucket beside the stove where it can stay liquid.
Twisting a lock of his tangled hair, Techno ponders what he’ll eat today. There’s not exactly a lot of options, only really being able to choose from the options he stocked before winter. His vegetation supply has dwindled quite low. He’s trying to make those stretch for the remaining few months before summer. He decides on preparing
a fish and handful of berries along with the milk for today. Not particularly different from the day before. Fish is easy enough to come by anytime of the year.
Thawing the frozen fish in a pot of simmering water, he starts cooking the berries in a bit of milk so they create a weird mush. No one would call Techno a chef, including himself. He can make food edible at least. Well, according to him and a dog. Said dog happily gobbles up the intestines and entrails of the fish after Techno cleans it with a paring knife. Unbiased judgement.
After eating a portion of his day’s food while avoiding begging puppy eyes, he decides to tame his bedraggled appearance he caught sight of in the murky soup. A small wooden comb makes a valiant attempt at eating through his long pink curls. The sun’s made significant leeway in rising by the time he’s tamed the fluff into two braids. It’ll be harder to manage if he lets it freeze outside all day.
Shoving a couple logs into the wood stove, he tugs his outer layers on with a sigh. Time to start the day properly.
The edge of the property, outlined by some sad looking posts, holds a chopping block near a felled tree and a few stumps. Dicing the tree into uniform logs that can feed the stove sends ripples of pain through his arms and upper body. The small cabin requires a disproportionately high amount of wood to stay warm all day and night. Techno chops through the pain, knowing that if he slacks he’ll eventually eat through all the backlog of logs and leave him to a dangerously cold night.
Fog from his tired gasps dwindle to the ground and mingle with the small layer of fog residing there. It’s a cold day.
Em stands guard nearby, luckily knowing not to run around near a swinging axe. There’s nothing so large as bears or wolves this far north, but you never know what’s out there. Techno appreciates a second set of eyes. His eyelashes make a valiant effort of gluing themselves together with freezing moisture, so all the more worthwhile.
Technoblade gives up and slides the axe cover on as his lungs start to burn and sting so much that he starts holding his breath to put off the feeling. Considering the violent shake in his hands as he stacks the logs on a sled, it’s likely a wise decision. Even Man could only stay outside for a few hours during winter, and he had much more fat covering his bones than Techno. Techno sincerely apologizes to his aching bones.
After stacking the extra logs in the small shack beside the cabin, Techno calls Em from where she’s patrolling around the barn and heads back inside. He’s already starving again, but it’s too early for lunch so he resides himself to warming up in front of the fire. Techno grabs a holey towel and rubs the snow out of Em’s fur. She seems to find the ordeal very exciting, nosing at his face and making him squeak in surprise as her cold nose touches his cheeks.
His teeth click together with shivers, jolting his jaw and making his joints hurt from how tight his muscles clench for warmth. Warming up before heading back outside for more work is necessary, it seems. He curls under a large pile of blankets on the threadbare and saggy couch. Em wiggles her way under the mound on her belly, nose poking out next to Techno’s face. Her obvious coziness is shown through her wagging tail making the blankets rise and fall.
“Silly,” Techno teases her. She doesn’t respond, impervious to the slight under through the layers of fur and cloth. He runs his fingers through her quickly warming fur as he stares into the flickering flames of the fire.
As he wakes blearily an indeterminate amount of time later, the fire has fallen to embers again. He sighs with much irritation, crawling out of his cozy nest to tend to the stove. A glance towards the partially covered window shows he’s napped much longer than intended anyway. Sleep is just so nice. And alluring.
In opposition to the blustering freeze of the outdoors, only a few degrees warmed by the sun beating down on the atmosphere all day, napping is more alluring than any jewels or riches. Not like Techno’d have anything to spend them on even if he had ever seen them, he muses. He prepares himself some lunch, nausea unclenching as he slowly eats it. It’s replaced by hunger, despite actively eating, but it’s arguably better. Maybe.
Techno decides to take the cow down to the river today. He needs to top up on ice for water soon, and he might as well feed the cow at the same time. Two tasks with one journey is the phrase, isn’t it?
He flicks through the cache of arrows, finding none missing, and slipping them onto his back along with the old bow. He’s unlikely to find anyone at the little river inlet where he collects his drinking ice, but it’s always best to be prepared. The axe comes with him on his hip as well.
Em is happy to accompany Techno and the cow on the short journey, running ahead of him and back, and nipping at the cow’s heels when they wander off too far to graze. It takes under an hour to get there, but he’s tired and cold in the time it takes.
The river is thick below their feet. There’s no danger in the ice cracking at this time of the year, as it supports them with ease. He leaves the cow to her business while he begins cutting the ice into blocks to transport back. The long thin blade has a serrated edge, eating through the ice and leaving shards to flick off of it. If Techno thought his arms hurt earlier, the sawing motion makes him second guess that.
He stocks up on a good amount of ice today, eyeing the sun deliberately and deciding they have time to get back to the cabin before it sets. He doesn’t particularly feel like straying away from his property more than he has to. But, Techno also doesn’t have to glance at the fish supplies to know he needs to head to the main river soon. The walk’s a bit long, but that’s not really his issue.
When he goes to the main river he has to check for any new tents. And the tents, probably full of curled up dead people, are only marginally better than if they’re full of living breathing people. He roughly stabs the saw into the ice and rolls his eyes when it shutters and spits some shaved ice up but doesn’t do much cutting. Stupid thoughts and an even stupider shake in his hands.
With a bit more forced focus, Techno breaks through to the running water below the surface. He cuts away until the opening is big enough for the cow to drink out of. After tugging her over to it, Techno sets to stacking the pieces of ice on a sleigh and tying it down. He stands on shaky knees and sighs.
Em bounds over to him, looking at him happily before sticking her snout into the freezing water and scaring the cow away from it. Techno snorts at the sight, amused at her enthusiasm despite the fact that he heats up water specifically for her everyday. Techno calls her over so the cow can have some peace and bounces in place to try and get some warmth in his limbs.
The walk back home has his shoulders smarting, switching between holding the rope of the sled between each hand as they quickly grow tired. His legs are weighed down by a layer of snow over his feet, aching as they leave a trail behind him. Snow is very easy to track in, unfortunately.
The house comes into view after an uncomfortably long hour, making him sigh in relief for once. After putting everything into place, he revives the fire to a roasting broil and curls up right in front of it. The sad little flame inside him has eaten away at all the food in his stomach but hasn’t warmed him up at all. He glances miserably at the remaining food stewing on the stove and sighs. He’s going to go to sleep hungry tonight.
After eating his food and tossing Em her share, Techno fiddles with different house chores to fill the rest of his day. He heats up water to clean his clothes and hair and dishes, Em wagging excitedly at the pot melting the ice like she’s about to get some treat.
“You have water dingus,” He tells her. Em takes the comment as a complement, wiggling her butt from wagging so hard. She gets a few long pets for looking so cute. Chores are less important.
After awkwardly scrubbing at his hair in a bowl of water with his fingers and comb—and no soap—Techno sits before the fire and tugs the freezer burnt strands straight.
Techno grumbles in irritation as he runs outside in the dying light to hang some clothes to dry and let Em out for the last time of the day. The clothes freeze quickly after being set on the string, but apparently if you dry clothes inside the water will warp the wood too much. One of the many joys of living in the subarctic, Techno supposes.
The sun has only just set, sky lightened a bit from the residual rays when Techno decides to go to bed. Exhaustion pulls at his eyelids and limbs, making him feel gravity’s graceless pull. He changes into his warmest, softest clothes and slips into the small, well-worn bed. Em jumps up quickly, walking loops under his blanket before deciding on a spot. He curls up tight next to her, stealing her warmth and soft comfort.
Today was fine, he acknowledges. He’s sure tomorrow will be just the same.
Technoblade falls asleep with fingers sunk deep into Em’s fur.