Regicide (Dan and Phil Tyrant AU)

Chapter 1

Dan

Dan's life sucks, to say the least.

He spends constant hours working in large fields, plowing and plowing for the landlord. He's stuck in debt, which he'll never be able to pay, and he's stuck at the bottom of the barrel with no hope for getting to the top. He's the lowest class of them all; a peasant. The life of a peasant was far from amazing. 

While peasants make up the majority of the population, they also are the poorest, mistreated, and most hardworking, of the population. While the posh people get to enjoy their lavish mansions and vintage wine, Dan's stuck down here working his ass off. And for what even? To pay off a debt he knows he'll never pay? It's a depressing life alright, working like a dog all day and the most of the night, only to get four hours of sleep and then have the process repeat again.

Truth is, without the peasants working their asses off 24/7, the whole English hierarchy would fall apart. But the landlords are faced with the task of keeping them in line so they never have the chance to do anything to destroy the hierarchy. The landlords beat any peasant that dared to step out of line-even for a second. The landlords forced harsh backbreaking labor upon them so they would never have a second to stop and think.

However, that wasn't the case for Dan, he was always thinking. Sometimes he'd dig a little too far into certain topics resulting in an existential crisis, but to be fair, who wouldn't get an existential crisis when you'll never amount to anything and be stuck working day in and day out for the rest of your life. He has a few friends on the fields. After all, you might as well make a few friends if you'll spend the majority of your life stuck in the same place. Connor, PJ, and Chris, were some of his best friends that he talked too, the rest he remained silent with. Dan's clothing, along with the others, wasn't exactly clean, it was torn and ragged, exposing small parts of his chest and shoulders. Apart from the torn rags that looked like he worn, they were covered in dirt and his hands were horribly callused and he had tons of blisters on the palm of his left hand and scars on his right hand from the harsh labor that he's endured over the years. The parts of his skin that were exposed to the harsh sun often got sunburned easily, due to his pale conplextion, and would remain red for several days. The sores were a hard pain to endure, but after lots of time feeling the same pain over and over, you get used to it.

Dan paused to look up at the sky for a moment; it was full of dark gray clouds. It didn't take long for it to start raining and Dan cursed to himself quietly; his time spent straightening his hair was now wasted, unless he found a way to cover it up before his hobbit hair- as he calls it- returns. Lucky for him, he didn't have to work during the rain, after all what can a peasant really do while it rains. The rain helped grow their crops so what could they really do when it rained. The rain was a blessing and a curse, it gave Dan the ability to take a break until the rain stopped, but it also made his hobbit hair come back. Dan hated the rain for the reason that it made his hobbit hair come back and he also hated the rain that it made him reminisce on past times with his old friend, Phil. He smiled a sad smile to himself reliving one memory with Phil ten years ago.

"Come on, Dan!" Phil shouted from outside, it was pouring rain and large puddles were forming.

"I can't, my hair will get curly again!" Dan replied staying dry under the overhanging roof that separated the indoors from the outdoors.

Phil rolled his eyes, then laughed, "Either you come out by yourself or I'll drag you out here."

"Why do you even want me to go out there with you? Look at you, you're drenched in water! You're going to get a cold and have to dry off for at least an hour."

"You'll have fun, I promise. Just come out here, please."

Dan sighed, "Fine."

Dan stepped out from underneath the overhanging roof and into the rain with Phil. Within moments his Hobbit hair was starting to return and he was getting drenched in rainwater.

"Phil!" He shouted loudly.

Phil laughed in response as he watched Dan groan about his hair starting to get curly again. After he gave up on his straightened hair, Dan and Phil then proceeded to have fun in the rain.

The loud drumming of the rain was a beautiful song that only those that paid enough attention could hear. It's drumming was a rhythmetic tap, tap, tap,which was the beat to a song that only nature could make.

Dan and Phil continued to have the best time, laughing, enjoying each other's company, and getting drenched by the rain. Sure they'd be cold and would have to dry off for an hour, but it was worth it when this much fun came out of it.
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The memory made Dan miss Phil a lot. He hasn't seen him in 7 years and he wondered how he was doing. He hopes one day he'll be able to escape this cruel peasant life, do something meaningful, and get to see Phil again. Although he knows it will never happen, he hoped that one day he will get to be friends with Phil again. Over the years of not talking to each other, the friendship had disappeared.

"Don't speak like that, we'll still be friends even when I am king! Maybe I can even have you in the castle too so that happens." Phil replied, his grin faltering slightly.

Dan remembers Phil saying that all those years ago, and how he wishes that would be the case. But he knows it won't happen, there's no possible way. When you're this far down at the very bottom of the hierarchy, nothing is ever going to get you to the top. Dan refuses to, but needs to accept that their friendship is over. The gap between them can't be closed.

Finally the rain stopped after what felt like hours and he was done with work for the day. He was glad for that; finally a chance to rest. On his way home he thought that he could hear police and ambulance sirens in the distance. He ignored them, it wasn't out of the blue to be hearing sirens in England and continued his way back home. When he arrived back home he stopped to admire the qualities of it. It was a wooden small hut like home that looked like it was rotting away, the wood was worn and the roof was holding strong, but you could tell it was close to giving up and caving in. The door was hardly even a door, it was an old ragged curtain that covered an area that resembled a door frame. He sighed at the looks of it then walked inside, glad that another day was over and he finally would have the chance to rest.