Chapter Text
The twins were fifteen years old when this first occurred. Techno remembered it well. The three princes had gone out to the neighboring kingdom of Essempee to negotiate the trading deal. Wilbur was the one negotiating, naturally, with Techno as his bodyguard. Tommy had just decided to tag along.
Although Techno was the Crown Prince, Wilbur was always the one who dealt with the business aspect of royal life. He was going to be Techno’s advisor, they had already agreed on it.
They were on a carriage, headed to talk to King Dream and finalize their agreement. “What’s King Dream like?!” Tommy asked them, stars in his eyes. “Is he really tall?! Does he have big muscles?! I hear he can run faster than a horse!”
“He’s a twat.” Wilbur replied shortly, calmly sorting through papers.
“That man can not run faster than a horse.” Techno scoffed.
“I bet I could beat him in a race.” Tommy smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I could have him, you know.”
Wilbur snorted. “Yeah, sure, Tommy. Techno barely beat him in that duel, but I’m sure you’ll be able to win easily.”
Tommy looked smug, apparently not having detected the sarcasm in Wilbur’s tone (or choosing to ignore it if he had.)
“Techno,” Wilbur glanced over at him, “I’ll need you to try and not start anything with King Dream. It’s very important that this meeting goes well.”
“Wilbur, when have I ever been anythin’ apart from cool and collected?” Techno scoffed.
Wilbur hummed, putting away his papers. “Potato Wars.”
“That--”
The carriage stopped, and their door was opened.
“Presenting, the Princes of the Antarctic Empire!” Someone announced from nearby.
“That’s our cue.” Wilbur smirked.
Techno got out first, with Wilbur and Tommy behind him. They had always made it appear to the public that Techno was the one who led these meetings by having him walk in first.
Tommy gasped as he looked up at the giant castle that loomed in front of them. “Woah!”
“We have one of these.” Techno rolled his eyes.
The giant door opened, and George, Dream’s royal advisor, was behind them. “Prince Technoblade, Prince Wilbur, Prince Tommy. Welcome to Essempee. First time visiting, correct?”
It was true, they had only communicated with King Dream through letters.
“Correct.” Techno nodded.
“Lovely, follow me.” George turned sharply, and the three brothers walked in, the door closing behind them.
As they walked through the halls of the palace, Tommy showed excitement over every little thing.
"Wil, look! Those paintings are giant!"
"Tech! That guy's sword was way bigger than yours!"
"There are so many candles!"
They were led to a meeting room, where Dream was sitting at the table. “Techno! Wilbur!” The fifteen year old king grinned, sipping from a glass of purified water. “And I’m assuming the kid’s Tommy?”
“I’m not a child!” Tommy yelled, surprising the young king. “I’m almost eleven!”
Dream chuckled. “Right, sorry. Well, Techno, have a seat. We have things to discuss, after all.” Dream pointed to the seat in front of him, the one that had another glass of water near it.
Techno didn’t move, but Wilbur sat down instead.
Dream tilted his head. “I said Techno. He’s the one I’m having a meeting with, yes?”
“No.” Wilbur pulled out his papers, displaying them neatly on the table. “You’re stuck with me. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh.” Dream’s smile grew a bit strained. “Is that so?”
“Is there a problem with that, Dream?” Techno rose a brow.
Dream’s mouth set into a thin line. “No, no.” He murmured, pulling his mask down over his mouth.
“Right.” Wilbur looked up at Dream, his posture and expression picture perfect. “Let me get right to the point. The Antarctic Empire will provide your land with protection, supplies, and gifts. The only thing we ask in return is for you to swear your unwavering loyalty to us.” He grabbed at the glass of water on the table, and Techno saw Dream’s body jolt.
Before he could say anything, Wilbur had taken a sip.
He placed the glass back down. “If we ask for supplies, we want you to provide them, and we will do the same. If we ask for your backup in a war, we--” He stopped, brow furrowing. “We--” He coughed, placing a hand on his chest.
“Wil?” Tommy frowned, hesitantly taking a few steps closer.
Wilbur coughed again in response, slapping a hand over his mouth. “I-I’m sorry--I don’t know what--”
He coughed once more, this one sounding more painful than the last. Then he coughed over and over again, his entire body beginning to tremble. He curled in on himself, one hand wrapping around his abdomen.
“Wilbur?!” Techno exclaimed, alarmed. He grabbed the glass Wilbur had drunk from, pulling out his solution for detecting poison.
His father had given it to him, since assassination attempts were never too uncommon. It would turn the color of a potion of poison if it picked up on any harmful substances.
He poured it in, and the water turned green when it detected foul play.
Techno saw red.
Someone had poisoned his brother. Someone from Essempee had poisoned his brother. Someone who lived in the castle had poisoned his brother.
Dream had poisoned his brother.
“Wilby!” Tommy grabbed Wilbur’s shoulders, forcing him to lean back in his chair.
Wilbur was pale and shaking, eyes blown wide and both hands now clawing at his chest.
“Wilbur, talk to me.” Techno frowned, trying to conceal the rage in his voice for the sake of the youngest.
“You bastard!” Tommy yelled at Dream, who had been watching the scene blankly the whole time.
Wilbur’s arms slowly went slack, and his head lolled. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell limp in the chair.
Techno felt like the air had been stolen from his lungs. “Wil? Wilbur? ” He shook his twin a bit too roughly.
Wilbur didn’t respond, face pale and expressionless.
Tommy began crying almost immediately, falling to his knees next to Wilbur’s chair.
Techno felt his hands begin to shake, and he turned to look at Dream. Based on the way the king tensed, Techno had a terrifying expression on his face. “ I’ll kill you. ” He growled, reaching for the sword at his side.
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!
“I didn’t mean for Wilbur to die.” Dream told him, crossing his arms. “That was meant for you, after all.”
Techno froze.
“Well, Techno, have a seat. We have things to discuss, after all.”
“You’re stuck with me. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh. Is that so?”
Techno felt like he was going to throw up, and he began to pull his sword out.
“I wouldn’t.” Dream hummed, and suddenly several guards were in the room. Techno didn’t really care. He could kill all of these guys easily.
That was until he saw that instead of looking at Techno, their eyes were pinned on Techno’s younger brother.
Their eyes were pinned on Tommy.
“ Wilby--Wilbur-- ” Tommy sobbed, not even noticing the interaction that was happening. He grabbed Wilbur’s hand, holding it to his own cheek, desperate for his older brother to respond.
“You’ll pay for this.” Techno promised Dream, removing his hand from his sword. He grabbed Wilbur’s still form, ignoring Tommy’s cry at the loss of contact. “Let’s go, Theseus.”
The guards moved to go after them, but Dream held a hand up. “Let them go.” He said. “There’s been a change of plans.”
---
They had placed Wilbur on one half of the carriage, Techno holding a crying Tommy as he sobbed into his chest on the other side.
“I hate him! I hate Dream! I hate him!” Tommy cried, shaking his head and clutching Techno’s shirt.
Techno didn’t respond, staring blankly at his twin brother.
Dead at fifteen, Prince Wilbur Soot Craft.
The words sounded wrong. Bitter. They felt ugly.
It should’ve been him. It was meant for Techno. It would be Techno lying there right now instead, with Wilbur comforting Tommy.
Wilbur, whose eyes looked gold in the sun. Wilbur, who played his guitar to help calm Techno down. Wilbur, the only one (besides Phil) who could hold Tommy as a baby without the infant screaming. Wilbur, who was witty and charming and handsome and young. So, so young.
They arrived at the castle, Techno taking Wilbur up in his arms.
Wilbur’s body.
HE’S DEAD.
NOOOO HE’S DEAD!
WILBUR IS GONE CRABRAVE!
Tommy was behind him, but that didn’t really register in Techno’s mind. He was too distracted by the ever present urge for blood that was consuming all of his thoughts.
The second they entered the palace, Phil was walking down the stairs to greet them.
Techno watched as his expression went from confused, to worried, to angry, to terrified.
“Wilbur?!” He exclaimed. Phil took Wilbur out of Techno’s arms, rushing him to the infirmary. "Oh prime-- Wilbur?! "
Techno and Tommy followed.
“He’s cold. Why is he so cold?!” Phil was muttering to himself as he practically ran to the infirmary. "What happened?!" He didn't turn to look, but the question was clearly meant to be answered by them.
“He’s dead.” Techno told him, his monotone voice betraying the emotions that were warring in his heart. “Dream killed him.”
Phil's expression darkened. "I knew he was a conniving snake." He growled, looking down at Wilbur's face. "How could a boy kill with such a lack of empathy?" He sighed. "Wilbur isn't dead yet. I would've known. She would've told me."
Techno glanced at Tommy, who was uncharacteristically silent. "Are you okay, Theseus?"
Tommy glanced at him, his eyes immediately watering. "I want Wil." He whimpered, slowing to a stop. Techno stopped as well, turning to face his brother fully.
Techno kneeled down, pulling his younger brother into a hug. "Me too, kid. Me too."
---
The doctor was gently pouring healing potions down Wilbur’s throat. “Poison isn’t enough to kill you.” He explained. “It puts you just on the verge of life and death. It’s good that you were so careful with him. One wrong move and he would’ve been dead.”
Phil and Techno didn’t respond, equally blank expressions on their faces.
“So Wilby’s not gonna die?” Tommy asked quietly from where he was standing behind Phil.
Phil smiled softly, turning to his youngest son. “No, he’s just sleeping.”
Tears filled Tommy’s eyes, and he smiled in relief. “That’s good.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around Phil.
Phil hummed, running his fingers through Tommy’s blonde hair. “Jack Manifold.” He snapped his eyes to his royal advisor, who stiffened at the attention.
“Ayup?”
“I want you to draft a declaration of war.” Phil stated, eyes cold and unforgiving. “I want it delivered to Essempee by tomorrow.” He looked away from him. “Oh, and let Dream know his assassination attempt failed, would you?”