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The Wild Hunt had always been a tale of folklore. Something from the legends of old, when the Gods roamed the mortal plains and spun tales of their own.
Whilst most associated it with the Gods and their games, others had stories closer to home, of the wood nymphs only allowing those that completed the rites to take the branches from their trees.
Many attributed the nymph's kindness to the fae King, allowing them to give humans access to the woods, to become ensnared to the magical creatures of old.
That was when the first stories began to spring up, that wove tales of the humans that entered the woods and were never seen again. Soon there were more stories and soon those stories turned into legends and eventually it had become folklore that warned children from the woods, never to mess with something unknown and to never give out their names.
Tommy had never known this when he’d stumbled into the woods one day, his parents taking their eyes off him and leaving him to his own devices, trusting that he knew the rules to never leave the village.
Little did they know that their negligence would be their undoing.
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Tommy knew he was fucked.
He knew it the moment that the townsfolk chased him from his home, his parents' own glacial glares keeping him from seeking refuge.
He’d tried so hard to be good, to follow the rules, even if there was a small part of him that had already rebelled, even when he hadn’t known the rules.
Then the baker's boy decided to steal from the local merchant, blaming him easily when the boy was first caught. The merchant had agreed, especially seeing the pieces of glass pendants in his hands, ones that looked nothing like his wares but he could see the greed, the opportunist.
A cold fear trickled down his back as he ignored the cuts on his face and hands as he ran from them. He knew that Tech would be angry should they break or be stolen from him, since they were a gift to him, it was considered theft to a fae.
But he was scared and the villagers did not care.
The further into the forest they chased him, he could hear the whispers, whispers that he had grown used to over the years as he grew up. He knew that they were coming, he just needed to keep going, to stop them from catching him before he could be found.
Tommy nearly cried from relief as the sounds of drumming began to echo around the forest and he stumbled to a stop, trying to catch his breath as the drumming began to grow, the whispers joining in, unnerving the humans that had chased him through his second home.
His pursuers had slowed down because of their hesitation, their fear. But the baker's boy was determined. He stepped forward, ignoring the sharp hisses from the others and grasped Tommy’s wrist tightly.
“You’ll pay for your-”
Tommy could feel his presence behind him, keeping his mouth shut as a hand reached over, grasping the hand that had him in a grip, cutting the boy off from his words, like he had stolen them from his mouth himself.
“Who did this to you Theseus?” Muted gasps were shared as the drumming and whispers were joined by the howls of the hounds.
“All of them.” He whispered sadly, eyes unable to look away from the looks of hatred and betrayal. But there was no pity for them. They had made their beds and he knew that Techno would make them lie in them.
He knew the fae king was angry. The hand that was grasping the baker's boy, snapped the wrist, but the boy didn’t scream as Tommy ripped his own hand away from the grasp, indents and bruises showing up on his pale skin.
“One day, you foolish humans will learn not to touch what is mine.” There was a snarl on his lips and Tommy leaned back into the fae, seeking comfort from him.
There was a morbid curiosity about watching someone die, especially to The Hunt.
The baker's boy finally screamed, the other villagers running away as they registered the sounds of the howling, the noise that would inevitably lead to their deaths.
Technoblade paid no mind as he turned Tommy around, his fingers tracing over his face carefully.
He knew the fae was memorising the cuts, the bruises. He knew it was so he could exact his retribution on those who had hurt him.
“Where were your parents, little one?” He murmured, voice deceptively soft. Tommy leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed.
“They chased me out with them. Said I was dead to them.” He whispered, a dull ache filling his bones.
There was an icy tinge to the air the moment the words left his lips and he did not move. He knew he was safe, that the anger wasn’t directed at him, but it was safer to remain still, to make sure that the fae knew he wasn’t trying to leave.
“You will watch with me. Watch the Wild Hunt and together you will come home, to your rightful place at my side. Wilbur has been missing you these days.” Tommy snorted at that before opening his eyes, the promise of safety and protection clear as daylight.
He knew ever since he was a child that he belonged to the fae. He had not learned the stories of what would happen if you gave them your real name and the King had taken a chance.
To let him grow with the humans, but still learn from the fae. And it had all worked smoothly until today. Until the baker's boy had to ruin everything.
“Come, little one.” He did not dare disobey a direct order, stepping closer and allowing the fae to wrap himself around him and pick him up.
Tommy felt his breath catch as they lifted into the air with ease, the sounds of the hunt echoing through the forest.
They landed on a home, a home Tommy knew was protected in part due to the changeling that lived there, that was waiting to come home.
“Hunt every human, leave no survivors.” Techno did not raise his voice, but it carried through the village, the obeying howls of the hounds causing screams to erupt as they began the hunt.
No one was safe as they tore through the village.
Tommy could only watch in morbid awe as bodies were left mangled in a way that no human or beast was capable of.
It was a massacre.
He was only thankful there were no true innocents caught in the crossfire. The children had all grown up together.
Technoblade’s fingers pressed against his neck and Tommy tilted his head to the side and back instinctively.
A low rumble of approval met his ears as the chaos reached crescendo, the drumming hitting its loudest point as the slaughter continued.
“My son, witnessing his first Hunt.” He whispered and Tommy felt it then. He felt the bond that he’d been wrapped in since he was a child.
“Dad.” The word was a whisper, reverent and filled with that of a child whispering his secrets to his parent. It was awestruck and rebellious, woven with love.
It was home.
The drums stopped abruptly, no sound from the village, the hounds having fallen silent at their success.
Tommy felt heavy, like he was looking at the world through a fog.
“Time to go home. Changeling, make sure you return safely to my courts. You will be rewarded.” He could see the dainty changeling now, her eyes surveying the wreckage before turning to her King.
“I shall whisper the stories and then follow you home.” Her voice was familiar in that he finally recognised who she was. She smiled at Tommy.
“See you soon, my prince.”
He did not react to the title, instead his body curling closer to his dad and the man hummed a soothing sound.
“Can you feel the magic pulling you to me, Theseus?”
His chosen name was wrapped in a love that he’d never truly felt, one that was searing and dangerous. One that encompassed and protected him. It claimed him.
“Yes.” He got out after a breath, body sinking into the hold, into the magic.
He had not realised they were moving, the forest canopy above him, animals silent as a bigger predator than them prowled through the undergrowth.
The warmth that was filling him became painful for a moment before the fog blanketed it, wrapping him safely from any idea of pain as his features began to shift, change.
“You’ll be wonderful when you emerge.” He whispered. Tommy could only hum, his eyes seeing but not taking in the beauty of the fae realm. It was like there was nothing that he could truly think of, the fog focussing on the magic that was running through his body, working its way to his heart and changing everything.
“Just one more thing sweet boy, take a bite for me.”
The voice was pleading, a sound that shouldn’t come from this person, Tommy was sure. He knew the voice, a voice in his mind whispered it was his dad, his protector and family.
It took great effort to open his mouth, but he was rewarded with the sweetest taste, a hand helping him bite through the fruit. The hand was gentle, brushing along his jaw and smoothing down his throat, to help him, remind him he needed to swallow.
The food slid down his throat easily, no need to really chew it since it practically melted when it touched his tongue. The voice that had pleaded, crooned praise to him, soft and sweet, silent promises in the tone.
“That’s my boy. When you wake up, we’ll be here, ready to teach you. My little spitfire.” There was a ghost of lips to his forehead and he let his eyes finally close, nestling closer and pressing his face into the scent that told him he was safe, protected.
There was another voice, one that was filled with awe and love. One that he knew, but could not place. The fog had truly pulled his memories apart, warping and twisting them before whispering the names of his family.
The family that had saved him as a child. One that saved him once more.
Magic sung through the bonds formed, nothing but outpourings of love from different bonds, ones that he knew would be tied together for eternity.
He was home.