Day 12 - Spiked drink with hurt!Techno

Other characters: Philza, Wilbur, Kristin, Tommy (and Technically Ranboo but he has no lines)

Other tags: Royalty AU, SBI family dynamic, attempted assassination, descriptions of seizures, implied torture (but they tots deserve it)

Summary: Somebody tries to assassinate a prince of the Antarctic Empire


Philza found it quite amusing to see the different ways his sons handled the kingdom's formal functions.

Wilbur thrived. Gratefully so, because as his eldest he was expected to be most involved in them going forward. One day, the title of crown prince Wilbur currently bore on his shoulders would be exchanged for the crown on Phil's brow. And he would do excellent at it, Phil knew. Wilbur was charming and witty and perceptive enough to navigate the sometimes complicated minefield running a kingdom proved to be.

At their events, he stood front and center, entertaining their guests with songs and stories, and buttering up all their allies with his silver tongue.

Phil's second son, Technoblade, was not a complete polar opposite but still a stark difference. He was smart too, his tactical insight would not be misplaced on a ruler. If running a nation could be done from behind closed doors while sitting at a desk, Techno would have made a perfect king. But he did not cope well with the social-driven aspects, nor did he enjoy the attention of their noble position the way Wilbur did. He'd gladly settle for a high-ranking position in the military, staying at his brother's side and helping Wilbur wherever he needed.

Any royal party saw him sticking on the sidelines, avoiding conversation and dodging social encounters like a pro. Phil couldn't help but laugh seeing him at it, even if he felt sorry for the man.

And then there was Tommy.

Like Wilbur, he was social enough to enjoy their events, yet always seemed to find some way to get into trouble during them, prompting the king to keep an extra close eye on him. Honestly, it drove Phil up the wall, but Kristin took him by the hand and told him how much their youngest son reminded her of Phil.

"A mischievous streak," she said fondly. "He has your heart."

True enough, Tommy was kind and cheerful and it was hard to take even his worst pranks as anything but a joke. They did cause their fair share of trouble over the years (Phil remembered vividly the time Tommy had crawled under the table and tied together the shoelaces of another nation's diplomat. The poor man had fallen face-first on the floor as soon as he tried to get up) but Tommy had calmed down some since Ranboo arrived.

Tommy was several years younger than both his older brothers and without companions of his own age to play with, Phil feared Tommy would grow bored when Wilbur and Techno were expected to take up more private lessons and responsibilities within their government. Tubbo usually filled that void, but he too was more often away from home lately on trader's business. Two years ago though, Ranboo came along.

The younger son of a neighboring country's royal family with whom Phil had good and long-lasting relations, Ranboo had been sent over to study within the Arctic Empire as part of his education. Some experiences could only be gained outside of your comfort zone, or such was the belief Ranboo's parents shared. Phil had gladly offered to take Ranboo under his wing for the duration of his stay, treating him as one of his own. Tommy had quickly grown incredibly close to him, and together with Tubbo the three frequently got into trouble - but at least the other two boys were the target of Tommy's tricks now more often than not.

And so their family was quite complete.

"You look asleep on your feet, old man." Wilbur spoke teasingly, but Phil could see from the small crease between his eyes there was at least a trace of genuine worry beneath it.

"Merely reminiscing." He laughed Wil off. "I'm surprised you had a chance to escape. Don't you have several suitors after you tonight?"

Wilbur's cheeks got the slightest red tinge. "Unbearable, the lot of them." He took a glass that was offered to him by a servant, nodding his thanks. "Really if I was interested in any of them I would say so myself, wouldn't I?"

"You would. What about Technoblade?"

Lowering the glass since he was about to raise it to his lips, Wilbur smirked. "Oh, he's been chased by a few stubborn ones all evening. Distinguished ladies of the court, such as he would hate with a passion. But I do believe we'll find out for ourselves in a moment." He inclined his head.

Techno was pretty much speedwalking, head down so he didn't have to make eye contact and invite conversation. Phil was laughing by the time he reached them, even more so when Techno promptly snatched the glass from Wilbur's hand. The poor brunette was just about to drink from it too, but Techno was quicker. He downed about half of it in one go.

"Hey!" Wilbur smacked his shoulder.

"Since when do you drink red wine?" Phil asked, bemused. Techno wasn't one to indulge in alcohol often, and when he did he'd prefer the more refined, dry bouquet of a white chardonnay.

"I don't," Techno said, already scowling at the taste as if it were foul. "I need it, though."

Wilbur's slap turned into more of a sympathetic shoulder pat. "That bad?"

"They won't stop talking," Techno said ruefully, taking another sip. His nose scrunched up a bit.

"Be thankful you don't get pressured to take them up on their offers," Wilbur shot back. There was a tad of serious vexation beneath the surface of that statement. Phil frowned. He knew Wilbur was getting more serious about his future as a ruler - and by extension, his eventual responsibility of providing an heir to the throne - but this? Kristin and Phil had decided long ago they weren't going to rule like that, nor would they ever betroth any of their sons against their will.

They had been married out of love, not obligation. They wanted the same for Wilbur, for all of them.

"Wil, you don't have to do anything you don't want to." Techno nodded solemnly at Phil's words.

"I know I don't have to," Wilbur said. "I need to."

Techno hummed. "That's basically the same thing, isn't it?"

"I'm saying there might not be a difference in the outcome either way."

"That's not-" Phil stopped. Techno, who had been leaning into him for a bit now in what Phil assumed was a reserved display of physical affection, had slumped sideways.

Wilbur was at their side in a blink, steadying his brother. "Techno?"

"I think there's something wrong with your wine," Techno said, words noticeably slurred. The glass slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor.

"Techno?! Shit!" Wilbur yelled more urgently as Technoblade's legs gave out and he tumbled down. Wilbur was the only thing keeping him from falling like a log and Phil jumped in to help, lowering him onto his back carefully. "What's happening to him?"

"I don't know," Phil said desperately.

Technoblade's eyes were half-closed yet his pupils were blown wide, his pulse was much too fast for comfort, chest rising and falling rapidly in shallow inhales. Already several attendees had turned towards the scene in horror, a group of imperial guards pushing their way through the crowd to come to the aid of the royal family, a court physician hot on their heels.

But it was Tommy who somehow got there first. "Techno?"

Kristin and Ranboo were both right behind him, Phil saw his wife grab their youngest son by the shoulder to keep him from getting too close - from getting in the way of the medic who had sped in to help.

Then Techno's eyes rolled back and his body started to convulse.

"Take them outside," Phil said firmly. He could see the hesitation on Kristin's face, a mother struck with the urge to keep her children safe. She probably wanted nothing more than to kneel down too and stay at Techno's side.

But she also knew this was not a sight either of the younger boys should witness, so she nodded. "Out, both of you."

"But-"

"Now Tommy!"

And maybe it was the urgency in his mother's voice that made Tommy's jaw snap shut, allowing her to drag them to the other side of the room, where the doors to their private quarters were.

The doctor was busy administering some kind of potion through a syringe, keeping Techno's arm still with two legs even while the rest of his body was caught in the seizure. Wilbur had ripped off his cape, balled it up, and shoved it beneath his brother's head.

For a few seconds, no change happened and to Phil they felt like an eternity, watching Techno trash around and making the most horrible strangled noises. Then he went still - almost unbearably so.

Wilbur sounded close to crying. "Is he-?"

The medic gave Phil a meaningful look, expression dark.

"Nobody else leaves this room," Phil commanded, raising his voice to make sure their sentries had heard. "Nobody leaves this fucking room until I give them permission to, understood?"

The guards scrambled to obey.


What Phil had feared most was coming to fruition. Techno had been poisoned.

A disastrous outcome had been avoided only by the grace of their court physician's fast reflexes, and the Antarctic Empire's pre-existing research into toxins and their remedies. An antidote had been on hand and administered quickly, saving Techno's life in the nick of time. Even now he was being tended to by the best doctors their nation had ever known. But it had been a narrow escape - much too narrow for Phil's liking.

And there was the bigger problem of somebody attempting to hurt his family to deal with.

Somebody - some fool - had tried to assassinate a prince of the Antarctic Empire. Phil would not allow them to see the light of day again.

But there was also the elephant in the room to address.

"The poison was intended for me, wasn't it?" Wilbur asked him, leaning against the wall. He had his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest, perhaps hoping it would conceal how his nails were digging into the sleeves of his dress shirt, coming close to tearing it.

"Most likely," Phil said. He wasn't about to lie. Not to Wilbur.

"I shouldn't have…" Wilbur sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "I shouldn't have let him take my fucking drink, I'm so stupid."

"Wil, there's literally zero chance you could have known this would happen," Phil told him. "The one at fault here is the person going around spiking drinks. And whoever the leak in our security is, since we clearly have one. This was targeted."

"Yeah, and I was supposed to be the target." Wilbur gestured vaguely. "I'm the crown prince, I'm the- Techno shouldn't have to deal with this, he got hurt because of me."

Phil grabbed his hand, pulling it down and forcing Wilbur to look at him. "You can't blame yourself, Wilbur."

"And why not? Are you saying it shouldn't have been me in that bed? That- That it shouldn't have been me who almost died?"

"I'm saying that you can't blame yourself for something that was completely accidental on your part. And also, you're not going to be doing any good by getting caught up in this idea that you could have prevented this when you really couldn't have." He stepped closer and held out his arms, Wilbur kind of stumbled, falling into him. Phil embraced him. "You couldn't have done anything, Wil. I promise."

"I know." Wilbur shook his head, fingers clasping at Phil's arms instead. "And I fucking hate that."

Phil could not disagree, he felt that same helplessness like a physical weight on his chest.

"Go inside, be with your brothers." He pulled back, giving Wilbur the best reassuring smile he could. "That's something you can do. Your mother and I will have to take care of some business."


It hadn't been hard to pick out the men who had done this, a group of three. Small and discrete, they were sent by a minor political opponent and didn't amount to much.

Cowering before him, it was the most pathetic party of assassins Phil had ever seen and the only reason they had come even close to fulfilling their goal was because they bribed one of the more unsteady recruits of the royal regiment, buying their loyalty and using that to slip into their inner circle unnoticed.

Phil would have to speak to the recruiter about hiring those with so weak a backbone that they could be easily swayed by their greed.

Seeing the men who had done this to his son in chains made up for it a little. Seeing them in worse straits would make up for a lot more.

"How long would you like, my dear?"

Kristin tilted her head, smile downright devilish. Her eyes flashed, immeasurably deep. "Oh, an hour or two alone with them should do."

Phil kissed her before pulling away. "They're all yours then."

A famous poet once wrote: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Clearly, they had not met a mother who had come too close to grief.

Phil was confident she would make them suffer, in appropriate retribution for what they'd done. He went back upstairs, glad to see that Wilbur was no longer confining himself to the hallways. Guilt was a tricky thing, and not easily dispelled with reason. Phil knew he would blame himself still, no wise words could erode that quickly the fact that Wilbur was aware the poison was intended for him. That Techno had only been unlucky.

And at some point, they would need to talk about that. About the unhealthy way Wilbur seemed to be internalizing his growing duties to the crown.

But when he opened the door there Wilbur was, sitting on a chair he'd drawn close to Techno's bedside. Tommy was perched on the floor, asleep with his head lying in Wilbur's lap. The older was brushing his fingers through Tommy's hair softly with one hand, the other clasped around Techno's own so Wilbur could brush a thumb over his wrist, seeking the reassurance of a pulse. On the opposite side of the bed, Ranboo was curled up in his own chair, also asleep and covered with a blanket.

Phil stood in the doorway, watching his family and feeling at peace.

And he knew they'd be alright.