Paradox
Written for a contest between me, Redd, and Limey. That's why it's on this account, obviously. Anyway, I adore these challenges, and find them easier to write to than actually writing out a long fanfic. I don't have enough time for that right now, unfortunately. Anyway, fifty alternate-universe RoyArch prompts.
You'll notice that each one is listed with the prompt in bold, then the title of the drabble in italics. The title of the drabble is going to be listed as the chapter name, just so you know.
Rated for language, themes, and whatever else may pop up.
01. Arabia
If This is Wrong…
The open windows were shaded with curtains in a variety of colors, mostly pinks and purples, being some of the more valuable ones. The room's inhabitant certainly wasn't interested in the colors themselves, but rather what they stood for—wealth. After all, he was incredibly rich, and needed to show that off in every way he could. What good was being wealthy if no one knew it?
Ah, but wealth could only get him so far. Most of it had been acquired by his ancestors' travels around the world. But he was no traveler, instead he was the advisor to the Sultan, a kind-hearted man, but certainly not the best ruler. He would have made a better ruler—but of course that was impossible. He wasn't native to this land. No, Frank Archer was eastern European by heritage, but had never actually been there, at least, not that he could remember. Despite living out in the sun for year after year, Archer retained the pale complex that had him nicknamed 'ghost' among the commoners. Not like it mattered what they thought anyway.
"This isn't the life I want," He mused to himself and the few servants scattered near the door. Trying to escape again, he gathered. "Shame I'm not 'natural'. Otherwise I'd take the throne myself."
But he couldn't do that, he knew that. No one else did, of course. But that was because they knew nothing about Sultan Roy. Nothing other than what was supposed to be known, at least. They didn't know about their… well, relationship. Archer winced, it wasn't a relationship, not at all. They were… friends. Using the term in the lightest way possible. There wasn't another way to properly describe it, in Archer's opinion. But friendship only went so far to describe what they were to one another. After all, how many 'friends' got together and sinned, in the presence of their god, none the less?
Indeed, Archer and Roy had not only committed sodomy willingly, but within Sultan Roy's royal chambers. Archer was known to be ruthless in his pursuit of conquering surrounding lands (through Roy's commands, of course), but ruthlessness only went so far. He certainly wasn't the one who had started all this.
"Won't you join me, advisor?" Roy had asked. Archer had of course obeyed his superior's commands and joined him in the room, surprised to find the doors shut behind the servants, the two left alone. That, of course, had never happened. No one trusted Archer. He was a foreigner by blood, after all. "I want to show you something."
Perhaps he was too trusting. Archer had willingly gone into this at first to get something out of it. Now, he was afraid he was in too deep to get himself out of his own will, even leaving with nothing. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he had a soft spot for his Sultan. It was a shame he wouldn't be spared when judged by God. "My lord, we need to talk." Archer bowed as he entered the royal chambers, not at all surprised when the servants vacated the room and shut the doors. They probably knew what went on between the Sultan and his advisor. They weren't as stupid as Archer wished they were.
"Archer," Sultan Roy greeted, rising from the cushions that made up his royal 'throne,' for lack of a better word. "I was waiting for you. Where have you been?"
"Thinking." It was a perfectly acceptable act for the advisor to the Sultan, after all. "What we have done… we cannot continue it, my lord. We have sinned, and we cannot go back for it."
Roy moved forward, and against Archer's will pulled him into a soft embrace. "If this is wrong, I don't want to be right."
"My liege…" Archer protested, but made no other move to escape from Roy's loose grasp. "We can't… If someone finds out…"
"No one will." Roy mused quietly, removing a slender jewel-encrusted knife from his loose sleeves. "No one will, if you don't talk."
Archer realized too late.