Chapter Text
tor·por
/ˈtôrpər/
noun
noun: torpor
a state of mental and motor inactivity with partial or total insensibility; where animals, including birds, lower their body temperature and slow their heart rate, respiration, and metabolic rate dramatically.
---
The Antarctic Empire is named as such for a reason.
Its main lands consist almost entirely of ice and snow, even the mildest of days could be far below freezing temperature.
And in the furthest depths of the empire, where the main headquarters, the castle, is located, the conditions can be less than kind for those not prepared.
---
Winter was fast approaching, the fleeting hints of warmth from autumn all but gone as the kingdom began to live up to its namesake. Preparations were made, the castle checked and checked again for cracks in the walls or breaks in the insulation. The emperor is usually the one to spearhead the events, ensuring the residents stay as warm as possible through the harsh season.
It was on one of those particular days where Technoblade, with tiny Phil in tow, was making rounds through the castle. Scouting out jobs needed to be done and showing the kid what to expect from his first winter in the Antarctic Empire.
Phil was all wide eyed and bushy tailed (winged?) as they walked through the stronghold halls. Bright eyes flicking to each newly placed decoration and giving a cheerful wave to the staff bustling through the halls, the gesture each time returned to the boy in full before going along with their jobs. And it was to Technoblade, like each and every one of the many little things Phil did, horribly endearing.
Which was why it was… odd to say the least, when he stopped doing it.
It wasn’t obvious really, and it didn’t appear to be intentional in the slightest. But the silence and stillness at the emperor’s side when the pair passed by a small group of maids, some of which Technoblade knew for a fact that Phil enjoyed greeting the most seeing as they always seemed to have a sweet in their pocket for him when he passed by, was more than a little confusing.
He watched the girls wave as they passed, one calling out a kind “Good morning your majesties!”, as he gave a low dip of his head in the stead of the silence at his side. Techno waited for the ladies to round the corner behind them and for their chattering about some unknown tidbit or another to fade off into the distance before properly looking down to Phil, a question on his lips.
And he was shaking.
Technoblade’s mind raced a moment, vision turning red as he knelt to his son’s height and placed his hands upon his shoulders in a hopefully comforting weight, wondering if perhaps it was for fear from the people they had passed. A weapon Technoblade had somehow missed, or perhaps something as small as an angry glance in the boy’s direction.
But as his hand moved to cup the boy’s cheeks, warm and calloused hands meeting the frigid porcelaine-like smoothness of Phil’s skin, he was quick to realize it wasn’t fear causing his son’s tremors, but rather chill.
One sweep of his eyes over the kid could easily tell him as much. Phil’s teeth chattered in his mouth, a quiet thing that Techno could only tell was there with the quivering of his lower jaw. The soft down scattered across his cheekbones and through his hair was fluffed up along with his wings, the appendages puffed up and curled around his arms, crossed over his chest for warmth. All in all, he rather looked a bit like a cold baby chick.
Which really, once he thought about it, wasn’t all that far off.
The moment Techno’s hands met Phil’s face, he all but melted into Technoblade’s touch. Blue eyes fluttering shut from where they were lazily gazing into Techno’s own as he nosed his way into the warmth. A sluggish coo meandering its way through the air while Phil tried his damndest to subtly press himself as close to his father as possible, failing miserably as the subtle part but succeeding in making Techno pull him close to his chest.
Techno chuckled, a low and vibrating thing bordering on a purr as all former anger drained from his mind. His thoughts completely overtaken in a mere moment by the low roar of, sounder, baby, piglet, chick, protect, hold, cold, warm him up, give him gold, buzzing along in his head.
He smiled at the chirp he received in return as he picked the kid up and held him close to his chest, letting Phil press his chilly little nose into the warmth and fuzz of his neck while he pulled the cloak from his shoulders and covered his son in the makeshift blanket.
“Cold, are we little chick?” Techno rumbled, receiving a slow nod into his clavicle in response.
“ ‘M not that cold.” Came the verbal reply a moment later, which was all but ruined seeing as the words were accented with the chattering of his teeth the moment he opened his mouth.
Techno let out a tiny huff of amusement at the response. “ Well… if you’re not that cold then I guess you don’t wanna go back to bed and have a nice warm cup of milk and snuggle up in all the warm blankets and-”
“You’re not gonna leave are you?” Phil interrupted, having moved his head enough away from Techno to where he could glare at him with furrowed little brows, as if daring Techno to leave the nest that didn’t even exist yet.
Techno just let out a few soft chuffs, snout blowing air into Phil’s hair and making the down littered throughout puff up even more than it already was.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, kid.”
And when he took the kid upstairs and bundled him up in the bed that he still shared with Techno and refused to leave, letting him fix the blankets and pillows around them as they waited for the kid’s drink to be brought up, Techno thought that was the end of it. That in the coming days while the castle was being reinsulated and brought to a comfortable temperature for the arctic winter, Phil would be warm and that would be the end of the tiny problem.
It wasn’t.
---
In the days following Techno made extra sure to keep Phil warm.
Ensuring he had enough layers on around the castle that he complained about feeling like an overstuffed turkey. Making sure he always stayed close enough that he could duck into the warmth of Techno’s cloak if ever he felt too chilly. And for a little bit, he was fine, there were no more moments where he was so cold he could hardly talk or move, which was good!
But the shivering persisted.
And it all came to a head in just one day
---
Technoblade woke slowly. Sleep still pulling at the edges of his brain from the night before, fogging his mind a tad and threatening to pull him back under should he so wish. And oh he did wish that.
But today was an actually important day, the final day of the first week of the winter season and there were preparations to finalize and there were people visiting and while his mind whispered for him to sink back into the mattress and sleep the day away, he couldn’t.
He blinked himself slowly awake, gazing up at the high vaulted ceilings and the chandelier that still managed to sparkle and glitter despite the darkened room. Phil liked the chandelier, Techno remembered, the first time he saw it he had scrambled his way up Technoblade again and tried to grab the shimmering gold and glass despite it being so far out of his reach.
Techno snorted at the memory, pulling himself more upright on the bed as he twisted his neck around, hearing a series of soft pops and cracks before he looked over to the kid at his side.
He wouldn’t lie about the quiet purring that started in his chest the instant he looked over to his son, the kid just looked so damn content. Entire body rolled into the dozens of blankets that had come loose while he slept, little face totally unbothered as he dreamt on about who knows what.
And maybe Techno just wanted to let him sleep a bit longer. Maybe he wanted Phil to rest a bit after a week of shadowing his father through winter preparations. Maybe it was because of the constant chill that the boy adamantly denied still having but that Techno still saw him shivering because of. Maybe he just looked so damn comfortable that Techno would dread having to shake him awake.
Maybe it was all of those things and then some that had him quietly creeping out of bed, had him walking over to the other side and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his son’s head. Maybe it was a tiny protective voice telling him to let his son rest and sleep and be warm that had him quietly change into day clothes and shut the door behind him with a soft click, leaving for the next hour or two.
~~~~~