( CHAPTER I )
﹕"Leads back to you"
𓎟𓎟 Pairing: Technoblade x Original Female Character.
𓎟𓎟 Summary: The messier the meetcute the better. Especially when it ends up with a broken nose and nerves through the roof. Perfection is a once and a lifetime oppurtunity and down in the fiery pits of the nether realm it is not succeeded. All roads lead to the brooding piglin...
𓎟𓎟 Content warnings: Descriptions of injury, dehydration is killer for fish people, also proof read(?).
𓎟𓎟 Authors note: HII!! I know this is not prime posting time but I just finished the chapter and wanted to throw it out, I'm impatient lolz. The word count is around 3.4k I think? I wanted to go longer but also didn't wanna stuff up the first chapter too much. I really hope you guys enjoy! Crossing my fingers I bantered hard enough, it's been a minute since I wrote long form content like this haha. So apologies in advance for any clunky language I'm slowly working out the kinks. Anyways happy reading, interaction is greatly appreciated ^_^
It's not everyday you end up in a strangers hideout in the nether after being almost burnt to death by a couple of Blazes. Maybe Lyra was just out of her element? Was this her sign to quit while she was ahead, had she gone TOO soft?!
There was once a time where she would’ve been heralded as a real threat. A healer with an edge, something cool like that. But now here she was, stumbling over her own two feet with no real way out.
This all started with a simple job. Lyra had an easy to do system of pay. She had a job akin to a traveling medic. Being called to by nearby villages for assistance, commissions for potions and such. Usually it came from your average passerbys, it was easy work. Easy work that she had become accustomed to.
But there was a recent order that asked for an abundance of ingredients she did not have, blaze rods. So in her head she thought a quick and easy nether trip would be like nothing! Fire down upon a couple of Blazes in a Nether fortress, run in and out. Whenever you think a trip to the nether is going to end up being simple and easy, it never is.
Due to the fact that she went into this without much pressure, she packed too light. She also hasn’t shot a bow in god knows how long. So a mis-fire here and a mis-fire there and quickly she ended up arrow-less.
It was such an annoying predicament to be in. Oh once so tall now so little. She felt like a failure, having to take the little window of escape she had to grovel. Pull yourself together woman, gosh!
She probably should’ve been watching her back. Because she would’ve realized sooner than one simple blaze throw had caught onto her cape. Which soon started to spread on her person. Her head shot up from her hands, taking a second too long to realize the smoke.
“Is that toast?- OH GOD.”
Her loud shriek caused more mobs to come follow her trail. Even though she chucked off the cloak it was not enough to perfectly hide. The outrageous heat sunk into her skin, infested her gills. Her body was drenched in sweat, as if she was being cooked alive.
The distant crackling of lava pools filled her ears as she skidded across. Her eyes panickedly darted around. She needed somewhere, anywhere to lay low. There may have been a lack of blaze rods on her but she could worry about it later. There is always room for second tries, especially when you're not dead from dehydration.
It got to the point where she was frantically ducking into alcoves, but nothing dissuaded the cluster of blazes and now a couple brutes following. A multitude of mobs started to pile on and she couldn’t just chuck her bow as a weapon.
Maybe… There was no time to get lost in a dream world.
Turning a sharp corner, she saw in the distance what looked to be a door. A door that had been crafted into a wall of netherrack. On first look it would be easy to miss. Lyra was throwing her eyes around like a mad man, so the find was pure luck on her end.
Without any hesitation she ran towards it while the soles of her feet burned up. No matter what she was running into, it would at least give her a second to breathe. A precious second as she felt her vision waver.
The door swung open and she slammed it shut. Compared to a scared animal she huddled in the nearest corner. Seems like the mobs decided to give up on her as it sounded like she lost them, finally.
Lyra's head fell back against the wall behind her with a deep sigh of relief. She hadn’t run that fast in forever. Her lungs burned as her hands clumsily worked to open up her glass water bottle. One quick swig and her face immediately cringed.
“Bleh…” It was warm from all the time spent down here. Note to self, find a way to enchant empty bottles to preserve water quality.
No matter that, it still meant she wouldn’t collapse in on herself. Quickly it was chugged and even quicker it was discarded into her handy satchel. Finally her vision began to regain itself, the tingling in her fingertips subsided.
A loud lip smack echoed against the walls as she realized no traps had been set off. This was literally a person's base, if you could call it that. A base which was in fact a netherrack dugout with two furnaces stacked atop of each other and a misplaced crafting table in the middle.
When she tried to stand up her hip bumped into something. With a rather sharp impact her head turned. Someone decided to leave a couple of chests too, what a kind soul!
If she hadn’t been running from her life she would’ve seen the writing on the wall. Which read, “INTRUDERS WILL BE SLAIN.”
Lyra had only moments ago been chased within an inch of her life. Who knows how long she’d take to find the nether portal she’d set up, what if she ended up getting lost! So the opportunity to cut the trip shorter than ever by ransacking a randoms goods didn’t seem too shabby.
The humanoid figure's hands shook, her other limbs following after. She had to clear her head for what she may find next. The place looked like it hadn’t been touched in days, maybe weeks. That could mean the chests were either complete duds or forgotten treasure troves.
One by one she threw each individual lid open, in the meantime sorting through other appliances. You’d be surprised how common it was to leave good loot in furnaces, valuable items in the sides of crafting tables a-plenty. The base itself was quaint to say the least. A person's touch had clearly been here with certain pieces cast astray and the faintest shavings of coal present in the air. Hopefully it had been forgotten because she was going at a snail's pace.
The longer she sat in there digging through all the corners present the more her mind began to wander. She almost found it sweet how in order everything was. Minimal mess, whoever was once here clearly ran a tight ship. Lyras saw plenty of homes from her village work, plenty of bases with the types of jobs she ran into. It's not often you find a place so clean yet still lived in.
“Whoever you are, I appreciate the cleanliness, fellow neat freak.” What left her wasn’t necessarily a chuckle but the faintest ‘hah’. It was a small sound of amusement.
Every single chest was dug through. There were pretty decent resources available but it was not anything too stellar. “Finders keepers… losers weepers…” she’d murmur, plucking a couple of apples into her carry on. If she made it home in time she could maybe make some quick golden apples to sell for profit if this job fell through.
A twinkle in the corner of her eye got her attention grabbed quickly. In the farthest corners of the same chest she had now sorted through, a stack of rods sparkled. It was like a fat kid being deprived of cake for so long. Lyra threw her whole body weight into the chest. Desperation forced her to lunge forward.
Which proved to be an especially stupid decision when her feet slipped. The weathered but sturdy chest fell with her movements. Before she could throw herself back out the lid closed directly onto her, forcing her inside.
A loud barrage of screams could be heard in the distance if you listened hard enough
Today was not her day in the slightest. If this was her rock bottom now, this wasn’t a sign of good luck in the future. If she even had a future with how things are turning out. A series of unfortunate events led her now, stuck in a chest too small for her, in a stranger's dug out base. A stranger who could potentially show up any day now.
She laid with unease on her back. Her bassy fish-like tail thudded on the wooden flooring. There was no escape and now she was going to DIE! Die a poor helpless loser in a poorly done up casket with little money to her name.
It was all rather poetic if you think about it. It wasn’t in reality, but that's what she focused on at the moment. At least if this was where she proved to fall flat, it is a lot better than a hail of arrows or being impaled through the torso.
Those bug eyed eyeballs fluttered close, her arms crossing over her chest. Her brain began to fog as she took a moment to think back on past decisions and life choices.
The lid once more crashed open and water was doused atop of her.
Lyra threw herself up and out of the chest. The water gurgled and dribbled everywhere, it was definitely a shock to the heart for her. The refreshing feeling was nice and all but now this was trouble.
When she staggered back, grabbing onto the wall of furnaces to pull herself up, that's when she saw him.
His expression was cold and dominant. The strangers' shoulders practically took up seventy percent of the view. He looked similar to the same brutes that had been chasing her from what felt like ages ago now. A cotton candy pink mane fell down the front of his armor-covered physique. His get-up was the farthest from a brute or your average piglin though. A long red cape filled him out, his clothes were akin to royalty.
He looked like a king.
An enchanted netherite sword jutted out from his meaty grip, backing Lyra into a corner. The edge of the blade did not pierce her but with more force he could easily drive it through her. Lyra's chest rapidly fell, her clawed hands splayed out as she threw her arms up. Out of all things he was definitely intimidating, there was no good exit now.
“I don’t take kindly to thieves, especially ones who camp out in my fortress.”
“Look I-I’m sorry I was getting chased down and needed to seek refuge, yeah! And I mean fortress?, not to be rude but this is more like a shack-”
The blade moved up, holding her chin out. One quick swing and he could lob her head clean off.
“I’m the one with a weapon on you. So I suggest we use kinder words to describe the place you were clearly trying to rob.”
“Well I wasn’t originally and last time I checked…”
His eyes lost focus on her, she felt him loosen his hold. Finally this was her one window of freedom!
She slipped past him, swinging her finned tail into his side. The weight of it caused the piglin to stagger, grumbling a string of curses. He could already tell she wasn’t going to make it. Either slipping and falling lava or getting mauled, he only wanted his valuables back.
Sure she didn’t fall to her death but she wiped out hard against the ground. One move too fast and she was sent falling over her own two feet. Gravity wasn’t her friend at the moment. Especially when she fell wrong and her nose made an audible snap.
She reeled back with a piercing hiss. Blood immediately gushed from the wound, the warmness pooling into her mouth as she sputtered. The piglin man's lumbering form trudged behind her, he stood atop with his arms crossed. “Are you clumsy or unlucky?”
“Honestly I think a little bit of both.”
“What a skill issue.” A chuckle bristled out of him. He found the back and forth clearly amusing, somehow.
“Get better booby traps!” She’d spit the crimson liquid at him like a curse.
“Yeah yeah yeah, what’s in the bag.” He held an expectant hand out.
Lyra looked at him, then her satchel, then back at him. He was half her size and would surely catch her if she tried to run away again. Besides, she was so deep into the outskirts of the nether realm that it would take her forever to find a simple exit.
A begrudging sigh left her as she threw him the bag, applying pressure to her nose. With an almost eloquent ease he caught it.
He sifted through it without any hesitation. She watched, biting back any remarks at his lack of care. At least treat the bag with a little bit of decency.
“Is this your first time robbing someone? You have such a sad stash.”
“Well sorry, your trunk of horrors decided to get me when I wasn’t looking.”
When he finally took hold of the blaze rods, her wince wasn’t only because of the broken nose.
His head looked up to eye her again. The piglin held the strap of the bag, letting it fall to his side. The tattered opening hung loosely, one jostle and any other belongings could slip out without any work.
“You want these huh?” He held the blaze rods out.
“I need them, please, I’ll trade you anything in the world.” The desperation in her tone of voice was clear. She didn’t want to go back out again to fight a blaze, oh god! Maybe he’d show some sympathy for her even if he didn’t look the type.
“You did just try and rob me though…”
“I'm in a bit of a pickle, okay! I brew potions… I need blaze rods for potions, I don’t have blaze rods so I tried to hunt some down…”
“So you try to steal some from me?”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures!” She would sob.
“I’m sure you know all about that.” His remark felt like a punch to the gut. Her frown grew cartoonishly distasteful. “Hey, low blow!”
“Ah ah ah, said the thief.” He sounded like a disapproving parent. The same tusks that came from his maw sparkled from the gold caps that sat upon them.
Lyra laid with her full body pressed against the hot ground under her. “If we’re gonna keep on getting nowhere, at this point, kill me.”
“Death would be too much of a mercy. Besides, today I think I’m feeling nice.”
“Oh well, that's a comforting thing to hear.”
“I think comforting is the last thing you need.” He gestured with a simple head movement to her broken nose. “Thats pretty gnarly.”
“Yeah you think?!” A sharp wheeze left her as she tried and somewhat succeeded on standing with her own two feet.
When her eyes re-set she had a more keen perception when it came to the piglins attire. Sure it looked royalty adjacent but it wasn’t as clean as expected. There were clear scratch marks and gashes on his cloak. His aged metal boots had spatterings of mud and general tear for them to not be the boots of a king.
’Who are you…?’
He would let out a huff. The stranger took his opportunity to head inside of his little shack, a hideous ‘creak’ leaving the door before it slammed shut.
“You still have my things!”
The heat was absolutely hideous and now couldn’t so easily be ignored. Only one good thing about their share of words was that Lyra didn’t have to remember the disgusting humidity. Sweat dripped down and collected at her forehead, standing some more. What could he possibly be doing in there?
Clattering could be heard from behind the door. Metal clanged together as things were seemingly thrown over. This piglin was a strange fella. Lyra in all her many years of living had never met a piglin like him. Most piglins and brutes were always kill first, asking questions later with some gold for dessert.
But he hasn’t killed her yet, why was that? Her lack of understanding could also be because of the fact that she rarely visits the realm. Heat exhaustion was her achilles heel when it came to exploring the nether.
Her mind wandered some more, those same curious thoughts now turning somber as she rethought their entire first encounter. This big, strong hunk of a piglin man has spared her life. He has stacks of gear on him, he could kill her in an instant! Was he waiting for her to die from the heat?
Did he think of her as weak? Embarrassment racked through her chest as her breathing faltered, sweat still seeping from every orifice imaginable.
Before she could dig any deeper the entrance swung open and the piglin man came lumbering outside. Her satchel looked heavier than before. Hopefully he didn’t touch the blaze rods but what else could he have added in there?
Suddenly, she was lifted off the ground.
He now had her by the back of her shirt collar. Lyra squirmed, kicking her feet, this was too uncomfortable and embarrassing to witness too. Let alone being the other half of this embarrassing act.
Her arms flailed around as she necessarily wasn’t trying to hit him. She had already given up on running, and hopefully this was just him leading her out. In that case he didn’t need to hold her up like a ragdoll.
“I said I’m sorry man!” Her groan vibrated through her chest cavity, limbs flailing some more.
“Oh you’ll live, pipe down.” He huffed once again. The huff sounded closer to a snarl with the traction from his tusks. His grip tightened to keep her from falling loose.
Step by step the two began to trudge closer to a nether portal.
“Look at the portal, see! So now you can just let me walk like a normal person and I’ll be on my way.” Lyra chirped, voice cracking in between.
The piglin's wrist swung forward and without any hesitation he threw her through the portal.
She tumbled onto grassy land with a fat thud. An array of oofs and grunts left her as she rolled down into a plain, back slamming against a tree.
He walked out from the portal, satchel still in his tight grasp.
The gaze he held on her was almost bone chilling. There was no kindness behind those eyes. Maybe a glimmer of something but it was unreadable, at least to Lyra. Her ego had already been bruised and beaten enough. She didn’t want any more trouble, especially from him of all people.
The satchel got thrown in her direction and miraculously she caught it. Rummaging through it her jaw unhinged a bit. A full stack of blaze rods and two gaps… where did all this come from?! She checked through those chests, they were so sad!
“Gaps are for the broken nose, blaze rods are so you don’t bother me again.”
Her eyes widened in pure joy as she hastily took a loud crunch from one of them. The taste was cool to the bite, sweetness poured into her maw as honey-like liquid dribbled at the side of her mouth. She was practically in heaven.
The pigman cleared his throat.
Lyra shot her head up dumbfounded. She chirped with shocking sweetness, “Oh you are such a sweet piggy?”
He couldn’t stop himself from making a face. It was shockingly very animated for how stoic he had carried himself this entire time. “Heh?”
“Well I mean you're a piglin, clearly, and I don’t know your name… so piggy!” A brow arched as she took a more regular bite of the delicious apple. Her nose slowly beginning to snap back into place.
“Call me Technoblade.”
“Techno… that’s definitely a name, I’ve met people who’ve been called worse!”
There was a stretch where nothing was said, absolute silence. Her eyes were wide with wonder while his were half lidded in frustration. A sigh left his maw as he pinched his brow.
“Well I’ll leave you here. You clearly have things you need to do and I have to cultivate. I’ll see you… probably never.”
“Hey don’t think like that- you could always run into me again!” Her cheeriness was not contagious.
His staggering stopped as he glanced back at her. His arms shifted under his cloak but he’d end up simply waving her off. “Okayyyy… sayonara fishy.”
Finally the red silhouette disappeared into the purple mist of the portal without a second thought. Lyra didn’t think too much of the interaction, but she definitely didn’t adore that nickname. No pressure on her though, now she had enough to make profit for the week! Maybe the Nether wasn’t so bad after all.
Still though, what a weird day.
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