O n e s h o t s || Fandom Oneshots

Empires [2p CanAme]

• Requested by Multi-Artist

• Medieval AU ( No countries, and since this is Medieval, neither are American or Canadian )

• Using the name James rather than Matt in this one as I know Ari would appreciate that.

• Kings •

They were rivals.

And that was all they'd ever be.

Homosexual? Absolutely not. He'd be hung.

But wasn't that the thrill of it?

He knew the auburn haired male in his arms would never be his.

He would always be a king, Allen would.

But he'd never be James's king.

* * *

It'd been six days since the battle. Rival kings in war.

Allen had been his most trusted soldier.

His general.

His first in line.

The male knew it was forbidden, he knew it was wrong. But Allen was very important to him.

Not only as a soldier, a fighter, a guardian, a trusted man.

He had been his interest.

Toying with his royalty. James regretted that.

Forcing the auburn haired male into something, something he'd craved for so very long.

And because of that, he'd triggered something.

Allen woke up. He was trusted, yes. Respected? absolutely.

But was he really there for his loyalty?

Or his commitment?

Or his looks?

Or his love?

Selfish king.

It was all he had thought. As he sat at the foot of his throne, staring up at the blonde male he'd come to respect so greatly. He'd of been lying if he'd he didn't feel attraction as well.

But love between two men was treason.

It was considered disgusting, and very looked down upon.

Allen had worked his ass off to get this far. He'd been nothing but loyal, determined, fierce and committed.

Had he been sassy? Sure.

An asshole? You could say that.

Pessimistic? Always.

Doubtful? At times, yes.

But had he ever let his king down? Had he ever given up without risking his life?

Shedding blood of fellow man in order to respect his king, who was leisurely sitting at home, in his throne, being respected, blessed. Treated like even his sweat could replenish a poor man's food for life. Like his tears were the equivalent of gold scattered across the broken earth's soil.

He'd lay down his life for his king.

At least that's what always what he thought he'd do.

But there he'd been, at the foot of his leader's throne.

Being ordered to have an affair with him.

And if he didn't punished by death?

Cold blooded.

It seemed simple, but it wasn't.

He was practically forced into sex.

Maybe he'd been okay with it then, but the idea of being forced into it.

It wasn't like James.

Was this the kind of respect he'd worked for?

The freedom?

The title?

The love?

No.

It was worse, much worse.

But he did it.

The day he woke up, naked, silk bed sheets strewn across his aching figure.

His tan skin had been coated in bites.

Bruises, kisses. Aching reminders of the night before.

Oh damn, it'd felt so good.

But it hurt him so badly.

Not physically.

It destroyed him emotionally.

And now here he sat.

In a throne of his own.

He'd never regret that day. The rebellion he started. The bridges he'd burnt.

Of course, he had followers right away. With his title and all.

But using the powerful words he'd spent so many sleepless nights tailoring into speeches for the very man he'd now be facing.

He'd brought down an empire, and he had the world at his feet.

He let James have his kingdom, though.

It was the only thing he had left.

He'd just finished it off.

The war was over.

James could no longer threaten him.

And Allen was no longer playing soldier boy.

He was no longer a loyal lap dog, there simply to be a doll for the man to push around.

He was a king now. Sitting in a throne, letting himself be pampered.

All traces of the innocence he once possessed had vanished.

His golden heart had shriveled into a ball of black, withering ash.

His ruby eyes no longer glittering with love, but dull with lust.

He had his power. He had his servants. He had his kingdom.

But he didn't have his revenge.

Oh yes, he'd won the war, but he wanted so much more than that.

"James, come in."

* * *

His voice was raspy, of course it was. That loudmouth never shut up.

James grumbled as he slowly stepped into the massive stone Throne Hall.

The walls were thickly dotted with dusty flags, covering the stained glass windows. They sported the symbol he hated so much.

The symbol of the rebellion.

The loss of his kingdom,

and the loss of his man.

Jame's gaze was ice, nothing but hatred glittering in those violet eyes of his.

His cloak echoed his steady steps, and he slowly lifted his gaze to look up.

"Congratulations, your majesty." His words were dim, and hissed, lowly and brutal.

"You've won the war."

To be continued-

// A/N: The next chapter will have much more fluff, I promise~! Honestly, if anything, this was more of a teaser, a sort of emphasis on the background. I kind of like how this turned out, I hope it's not shitty.