They say there are four stages of grief.
Denial, shock, anger, and depression.
denial
Tommy's never really looked into that saying, simply because he's never had to. Through all the trials and hardships, all the betrayals and battles of the Revolutionary War, he's never felt really, truly hopeless, felt real, raw grief. But now, as he sees Schlatt on the election podium, that stupid fucking goddamned election podium, banishing him and Wilbur from L'manberg, his L'manberg, the one he's bled and fought and sacrificed everything for, one thought and only one thought ran through his head, playing over and over again like a broken record. This can't be real. This can't be real, because Quackity and Schlatt can't just merge their votes like that, because he and Wilbur would've won, should've won, shouldn't just be banished from L'manber- Manberg? No, Tommy refuses to call it that. God- his L'manberg. The country him and Wilbur and Tubbo and Niki and Fundy and Eret built from scratch, defended, loved with a passion- the country he's no longer a part of. Surely this can't be real. Surely next second he was going to wake up in his bed, and this nightmare would be just that and only that- a dream. But no, it's real, it's far too real. The arrows whizzing by them are real, the angry shouts coming from the podium are real, and Wilbur taking his hand and running like mad is real, far too real, and next thing he knows he's standing in the woods bruised and battered next to Wilbur, holding the Declaration of Independence and thoroughly shocked.
shock
They stand in the woods, stood still next to the gurgling stream for god knows how long. And Tommy won't admit it- he'd never admit it, but he has to try and repress his tears, try and repress his tears because even though he just lost his own country, his L'manberg, and the shock and fear of it are still setting in, he knows he's stronger than this. He has to be.
Night falls, and they gather resources, because mobs are out there and they have virtually nothing to survive. Respawning hurts, hurts so much, and they can't afford to respawn back in L'manberg. Tommy spends most of the time gathering resources silent, on autopilot, trying to gather himself and force himself to accept this new, horrible, nightmarish reality.
anger
Time passes. Time passes, because that's the way the world is. No matter what happens, what terrible, unfathomably horrendous event unfolds, the world moves on. The earth keeps spinning, the sun keeps rising and setting, the rain keeps falling and the river keeps flowing. And Tommy finds himself mad at the world for that, cause everything continues on as normal, like everything is fine when it's not. It's not, because him and Tubbo are meeting less and less. It's not, because one day Tubbo shows up to meet him in a suit, and answers when questioned by Tommy: " Schlatt wanted me to wear it" like following Schlatt's every order is a normal thing. It's not, because Tommy can feel Wilbur slipping into insanity, and honestly? He thinks he's on the brink of it. So he channels that anger, because he doesn't know what else to do. He grinds and builds and farms, and soon they have netherite armor and plentiful supplies again, and a pretty cool looking base. Every action Tommy makes is fueled by anger, anger towards Schlatt, anger towards the world, anger towards the injustice of it all- because how can you banish a country's founders from it ? It's red hot anger and passion. And honestly? Tommy's scared, because he doesn't know if that's a good thing or not.
depression
It's meaningless. Tommy does a thousand things, and yet he never feels himself coming any closer to his and Wilbur's goal- to take L'manberg back. His energy is running out, the passion that fueled his actions before replaced by lethargy, as if all the grief, all those unprocessed emotions were just setting in now, rushing out all at once. He's scared, because every day he can see- he can feel Wilbur slipping into insanity, falling off cliffs, crossing the lines. He hears him muttering to himself, making plans that they both knew would never come into action. Tommy falls into despair, a weird sense of limbo and lethargy, thinking everything is hopeless.
Then Technoblade arrives.
hope? healing?
That's the fifth stage no one ever really talks about. Some people don't get it, because not everyone gets happy endings, and that's how the world works. But Technoblade, his older brother, the blood god, the king that never dies, is here, and everything seems a little brighter now. Just a little bit. Techno helps them organize their things. He sets up a potato farm, and gets them more resources than ever. Wilbur seems happier and more himself around him, more grounded and firm, and Tommy thinks that Wilbur is his old self again around Techno, if only just for a bit. Techno is reassuring, in his own way, the monotone of his voice being a familiar comfort. Slowly and surely, bit by bit, everything starts to put itself together again, starts to mend." And maybe," thinks Tommy as he hums a tune, dangling his legs over the ravine, "just maybe, we can take back L'manberg. We'll get it back, and everything will be okay."