Without any light, it was nearly impossible for Dan to figure out how long he had been in the prison. Still, counting the twice daily meals and number of shifts, he was able to deduce that it was more than just one. Four, by his guess.

He was fitfully asleep on the early morning of the fifth when the door to his cell was pulled open. 

Dan sat up blearily, patting the back of his hair down with a heavy hand. He yawned, watching the guard reach into his pocket with half closed eyelids. To his surprise, the man pulled out a dagger and a strand of sturdy rope. He tied Dan's wrists together and held the knife to his throat. "Don't try and run away, you hear?" He said, pulling the knots tighter. "The king wants to see you. First, we're gonna get you washed up."

"Alright." Dan was too tired to do anything more than agree. If the king wanted to see him, so be it. The worst he could do was sentence him to death again. 

Scratch that; the worst he could do would be killing him in front of Phil. Maybe for Dan, physically, it'd all be the same; some sort of bright light, maybe darkness. Whatever came after. But for Phil there was a life, a thing that kept on going. He didn't need it to be ruined by another death.

The guard lead him into the servant's bathhouse. It was empty at this hour. In fact, even the sky seemed to be asleep now. It was black and devoid of most stars, and the ones that did shine seemed to be the weakest. 

Despite the fact that someone had actually went through the  effort to warm the water, Dan washed up hurriedly. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to ignore just how curly it would become. He scrubbed his face and arms until the dirt dyed the water brown. There was nothing that could be done about his prison clothes, but the guard handed him a fresh exchanged at the door anyways. 

As soon as Dan was changed, he felt the rope rub against his wrists. "So we're doing this again?" He muttered, rolling his eyes. "Do you have any idea how annoying this is? And if you're going to manhandle me, you might as well tell me your name."

"John. Now will you just be quiet?"

"John...that name rings a bell." The guard jerked on Dan's arms a little too tightly, pulling him forward with more force than necessary. "Ah, I know," Dan smirked, "you're the princess's boy toy." 

"And you're the prince's."

"Touche."

John led him back into the castle, where the first round of servants were beginning to roam. They walked the hallways Dan knew better than the streets of his own town. Behind that door was the kitchens; the chef was always willing to spare a few extra mouthfuls for anyone who was going through a particularly hard time. Through that window Dan could see the place he and Phil had first kissed, and where they chose to meet every night Dan stayed late and whenever they both could arrange a break. 

The memories gave him a sort of odd comfort. While it hurt to know that it would be the last time Dan saw these places, felt this nostalgia, he knew that the people he shared them with wouldn't forget him as easily as the world would. The recognition may fade, but someday they might be reminded of him, whether it be in a smile or a tear. After all, wasn't that the point of being on this earth? To make a name for yourself, to do your best not to be forgotten?

If so...well, he had done his best.

They entered a great circular room with walls made of pure marble. One either side was a line of guards, all standing stiffly in their uniforms. A tall window illuminated the far wall. The sunlight pouring in through it obscured Dan's vision for a moment. He blinked, and when his eyes adjusted he saw that in front of the window was a throne, given an eerie halo from the light.

John nudged him forward, much more gently than he had been before. Dan figured he probably felt bad for the sorry sucker standing before him. 

As he moved closer, Dan could see that there was someone sitting on the throne. A man, dressed royal garments. A crown on his head.

It was Phil. Dan barely needed to see his outline to tell that; but the crown was one of a king. Tall, gold, with the church's cross connected to strips of jewels. He recognized it as the one Phil's father had worn at the would've-been wedding.

Dan watched, perplexed, as Phil waved everyone else out, leaving the two of them alone in the cold, wide room. He knelt hesitantly.

The king had to have died. That would explain why Dan was still alive, and Phil's coronation had probably taken place during the following chaos. Or maybe the kingdom had been in such disarray that it hadn't happened at all and he had only claimed the crown unofficially. 

"Dan." 

The word startled him. The (prince, king, whichever, whatever) hadn't meant for it to be so loud, as was obvious by the surprise on his own face, but his voice carried in the room, as it had in the prison. 

Phil coughed awkwardly and continued, standing up and motioning for Dan to do the same. Being on equal level did nothing to dispel the tension. "As I assume you've learned by now, the old king is dead. I overturned his order to have you killed and claimed his crown, but the actual coronation and wedding haven't happened yet. Though from the bored expression on your face I suppose you know that already."

"I may have guessed."

"Anyways...I had a thought. If I'm not really the king-"

"Phil, you are the king."

"But I'm not! Just let me finish, alright?" Phil flashed Dan one of his special half smiles. "Officially, I'm not the ruler of this kingdom. I could pass it onto someone else; my cousin or nephew, even Daniella if I wanted. No one would be able to object to that."

"I would! Why would you want to leave all this?" Dan gestured at the grand room around them. "You have no idea what it's like-you know, out there. Where I live, no idea what it's like to be me. You'll never know the pain of going hungry for the third night in a row, or constant fear of turning the corner right into someone's knife. And I don't know how I would bear it if you did."

"I don't want this life, Dan. I was raised into it, born into it. Never once did anyone ask me how I felt or even thought to. And, yeah, maybe it is a hell of a lot better than starving to death on the streets. That doesn't mean I don't long to know that freedom. Of being able to leave my house, no matter how small, and wander around town. And marry whoever I want without anyone caring. And having a big, tight-knit family. One that has struggles, but struggles that only pull them closer together."

"You think that's freedom?" Dan scoffed. "I work day and night just to feed my family half a stomach of slop every day. I barely even know how to make it around my village, and when I do get the chance to head into the square I wander around like a lost cow for hours until someone takes pity on me and gives me directions. I'm a slave, Phil. I'm a slave to...to life."

"But just imagine if I wasn't king. If I was a butler, like you. No matter what time you or I would get home, we'd get home together. Or to each other. Doesn't that just sound wonderful?"

"It sounds like a fairy tale."

Phil frowned. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"The idea itself is wonderful, don't get me wrong. Nothing would make me happier. But you have to understand. Sometimes, imagining things, especially things like that, can hurt more than a dagger to the heart. Especially when it'll never be real."

"It could be."

"It can't!" 

Phil, who had been holding Dan's hands, pulled back at the outburst. The hurt on his face pained Dan, who forced himself to lower his voice, "I'm sorry, Phil. I just-I can't let you give up your happiness for me. Excuse me for saying this, but you just don't understand. You think you'd be happy, and maybe you would, for a while. But eventually you'd grow bored, and when you do you'd grow bitter, and we'd fight. We'd fight and fight and every hungry night would only make it worse. And eventually you'd wake up in an empty bed, wondering how it all went so wrong."

"You don't honestly think it would be that way."

"I don't think, Phil. I know. Everyone is meant for the life they're born in. You know why? Because, as each day hands you a new trial, you grow stronger. Slowly, but you do. And no one else is strong in the same ways, because no one lives the same life. Like how you're so much smarter than me and better at making general decisions, but I have street smarts. I can survive out there, but you, you're meant for life in here."

"I'm not a child, Dan. Someday maybe you'll see that." Phil shook his head, "Just go. I'll see you in the morning, alright?"

Dan nodded shortly. He leaned forward to give Phil a light kiss and left without argument.

👑🌙👑   

Dan felt the frost already soaking through his boots and shivered. Snow was coming tonight, he was sure of it. The cold white covering would bring the king joy, but he dreaded the very idea of it. It would be wet, uncomfortable, difficult to walk through. And with snow always came disease, and with disease death. As if anyone needed any more of that.

"Phil?" He called out into the night. With the moon hidden behind clouds and his eyes unadjusted, Dan felt more vulnerable in the blackness than he ever remembered feeling. "I got your message from Alice. You said to meet you out here, so it'd be nice if I had someone to actually meet."

"I'm afraid it would be rather difficult for the ex-prince to meet you. He's a bit...displaced at the moment."

"John?"

The other man grinned, leaning against an oak tree. He gave a short, cynical bow. "At your service. now, I suppose you're wondering exactly where the king is."

"Just a bit, really." Dan was glad that he could manage to keep his voice calm, at the very least. The rest of him, on the other hand, was as tense as tightly pulled yarn. 

"You see, Daniel, I don't really love the princess. Who would? She's rude, belligerent, and has a dastardly sense of humor. I just loved the plan she had made, the foolproof path to power."

"No..."

"Yes. I'm a man, I have ambition. Do you think I want to be stuck as a guard for the rest of my life? I'd rather die." John started to pace, fiddling with his belt. "Merabeth might be horrid, but she's smart for a woman. Together, and with the help of a few of my friends, including Little Miss Alice, we came up with the outline with what would be the greatest revolution scheme of the century. The prince and princess would marry, heirs would become rulers, and then, tragically, the new king would fall ill. And die, of course, leaving the throne wide open for me to step in. A good plan, is it not?"

"It would've never worked. There's hundreds of people that would be in line for the throne, hundreds you'd have to kill just to be relevant. Even then, you'd only be relevant in the way that everyone would be aiming to put your head under the chopping block."

"Then I'll just have to rid myself of any opposition. Starting, of course, with your precious Phillip."

Time seemed to stop and speed up at once. Dan's stomach twisted, throat clogged. The world around him rippled like a reflection in a river. 

"Now, the question is, will you join me?" John stopped his pacing and turned to face Dan, eyes burning with the flames of hell. "A new reign is starting, Daniel. I'd like to give you the chance to be a part of it."

"I would rather die."

"Then I suppose you'll have to," John said calmly. "I guess you'll get to see your great love one last time, if that's any consolation. Now, are you going to come willingly, or do I have to use the knife?"

"Just show me the way."

  👑🌙👑 

The guard pushed Dan into the cell. He fell onto the ground, the cold stone as icy as the frost that covered the world outside.

Immediately, Phil rushed to his side. "Oh no, no, no. Oh, God, please no. Dan, why? Why are you here too?"

He had never seen the prince so frazzled. Dan pushed himself up and took the other boy in his arms, the only thing he could think to do to calm him down. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay! It's about as far away from 'okay' as it could possibly get! Don't you get it, Dan? There's no way to save us now. No one from the outside can come for us. This is the end."

Dan took Phil's chin in his hands, forcing him to hold it high. The way he used to, naturally, no matter what sort of situation they were in. "It is. Maybe it's over for us, here. The days are marked, the stars are saying farewell. But in any time or place or afterlife I will always feel the same. I will always feel the same butterflies when you kiss me and the same off this earth feeling whenever I see you. That's just what love is. And maybe, somewhere, in another world, we can find each other again. We can be together and fall in love all over again, and this time we'll be safe. No one will break us apart."

"Until we find that place, how long do you think we have until we have to say goodbye in this one?" 

"When the sun rises, probably, so a good few hours. Why, are you tired?"

"Terribly," Phil sighed and leaned against him. "But I don't want to close my eyes. Everything would fly away too quickly if I did. We have so little time left already, I don't want to waste it. And don't ruin this by saying something stupid, I swear to God."

"I wasn't going to," Dan smiled, "and I don't say stupid things. Every sentence I utter is like part of a poem and you know it. And what I was going to say was if you're tired, go to sleep. As funny as it is to watch a barely lucid Phil stumble through his words, you tend to become quite the bear when you're tired."

"But I don't want to say goodbye."

Dan kissed his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'll always, always, be beside you. And as long as that's true, there'll be no need."

meanwhile, in an alternate universe we know as "modern day":

Dan smiled, reaching out to accept the cup of tea Phil was handing to him. "Thanks," he rasped, throat sore from his cold. He coughed to clear it. 

"No problem." His friend unpaused the game, and soon enough the whoop whoop of Pac Man filled the room.

"Hey, Phil, do you think in some alternate universe we live in a kingdom and...oh, I don't know, you're king and I'm some sort of servant and we find love and in some sort of horrible, predictable, terribly-written ending, die?"

Phil pondered it for a moment. "No," he decided finally, "though it does sound like an awfully written fanfiction with a completely kinkbait title."

"Definitely."

well i think this ended in a worse way than any book ever. but at the same time you can go to Assbuttandangelwings if you have any complaints. i blame her.

final count:

10 chapters

20, 791 words

68 pages

10 million spelling/grammar mistakes