Hetalia Fanfiction Collection!

Prince!England x Princess!Reader - Run Away Princess Part 2

The night dragged on, and you were able to get away from Francis eventually. Walking around the ballroom, you searched for a prince or duke's son to talk to, for once. You suddenly grew the feeling of complying to your father's desires, and to be honest with yourself, you were growing lonely as of late; you needed someone other than your parents or your maids and friends to keep you company, seeing as though the people listed are either stuck up and are socialites or are awkward. Scanning the hall, you searched for Arthur because he seemed like the only down to earth, normal person, as if he hadn't been poisoned by the prince-ly lifestyle.

Your eyes finally fell upon his figure sitting where you had left him, with an unfamiliar woman. Feeling an also unfamiliar pain in your chest, you took a deep breath and swallowed the pain and decided not to approach the two. You turned to a different direction, but before you could begin to walk away, the sound of trumpets echoed in the large room, and on a stage in the front of the room, your father appeared.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" He began in a booming voice. "If you could find your seats, it is time to feast!"

At that, everyone walked to their seats, and knowing exactly where you would sit, you moved to the front end of the table and sat. Your father found his seat quickly, the one at the very end of the table; next to you. You looked down the row of seats on your side and found Arthur sitting with that woman only a few seats down. Your hands balled into loose fists, and your gaze drifted to your lap. That unfamiliar pain burned in your chest once more, charring everything inside your upper body. It was so hard to breathe.

"( f/n ), are you all right?" You looked up at your father who looked at you with worried eyes. He placed his hand on yours. "You look pale."

You paused, unable to speak for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine," you assured him with a small smile stretched on your face. Your father returned the smile and began to eat as soon as the food arrived at the table.

What was brought to the table was a variety of different foods. You saw a large bird being brough onto a silver platter adorned with bright berries and crisp-looking greens. Rice and potatoes were served in large bowls, as well as bread rolls. A, what looked like, a sea bass was also brought to the table on a platter as large as the one the bird was brought on. You knew it was going to be a large dinner, and you knew this was being thrown for you. But it didn't feel as though this was for you; this felt like it was the last feast the multitude of suitors you had were going to have until they were to compete for your heart. It felt like a fight to the death.(1)

You began to eat once food was put on your plate, that dread feeling sitting at the pit of your stomach. You took small bites of anything -- a teaspoonful of rice, a stab at the bird, half a bread roll, and barely any vegetables. That feeling, and that burning in your chest, seemed to eat up your appetite. You only ate so your father wouldn't worry, but even determined to not be a burden, you could barely eat anything. With your eyes continuously glancing towards Arthur, that burning in your chest grew, and in turn your appetite lessened.

"Excuse me," you whispered to your father, who nodded, and you headed out into the hall.

Once out of that hell of a banquet, your chest felt relieved and the feeling in your stomach dissipated. Without Arthur in your potential line of sight, you could breathe a sigh of relief and finally breathe without it hitching. Once feeling like your normal self, you slid down to the floor, your dress making it difficult to clutch your knees to your chest. But you made it halfway there.

All you could do was sit there until you felt like going back in, which would probably be never. Again, your hand found its way to the locket that hung from your neck, and your mind flashed to the boy who would be forever frozen in the photo the locket held. You could feel your eyes sting; you missed him, you truly did, and for the first time, you knew you were in love with him. But he was gone, and he was never coming back.

"I think of you when I am sad, and then I get sadder," you whispered, opening the locket and peering into those emerald green eyes you adored. You felt your eyes overflow, and the first tear spilled over, rolling down your cheek. "Please come back, Arthur." You shut your eyes tightly, bringing the locket close to your chest, as if wishing on a star.

"I have come back, ( f/n )," the familiar voice of Arthur -- the prince Arthur -- said.

You looked up from where you sat into the prince's emerald eyes, the emerald eyes you recognized to be your childhood friend's. Your eyes widened in shock, your mouth hanging open, and more tears materializing in the corners of your eyes. His hand was outstretched for you to take, and in your shock, you were hesitant, trying to register that your friend had come back. The fresh tears rolled down your face in streams, and your nose began to run. He smiled.

"Just take my hand, Princess," he whispered just loud enough for you to hear. Staring at his hand, you hesitated for a moment before placing your hand in his. He gripped your hand tightly, pulling you up to your feet. You leaned yourself against his chest, burying your face in it. He pulled out a handkerchief from his front pocket, pulled away from you, and held it out.

"Thank you," you hiccuped as you took the piece of cloth from him. You wiped your eyes and blew your nose in the most unattractive way, but Arthur smiled at you lovingly.

"I am guessing you would not want this back?" You joked with a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

"You guessed correctly," he said, pulling you into him with his arms around your waist. He was hugging you. You were being given a long overdue hug that was definitely needed. You snaked your arms around him, returning the hug, tightly. This might have been the last you would see of him since he was prince Arthur of Cena -- and that wouldn't change, and that thought made more tears fill your eyes.

He could hear you sniffling, which led you to believe that was why he told you to stop crying, and that "it was not fit for such a beautiful girl to cry." You chuckled at that, but even so, you continued to cry; it was uncontrollable. You didn't want this to be the last you'd see of him. You wanted to see him everyday for the rest of your life.

That was when you asked him. "Are you engaged, Arthur?"

He hesitated; just from that question, he knew how you felt, and he was glad that his feelings were returned, but it also meant that he would need to tell the truth. He could feel his heart shatter as he formed the words, and his eyes held a sadness and a knowing that the future was unavoidable. "I am..."

A/N:

(1) - This is supposed to give a Hunger Games kind of feel. At least, that was what I was going for.

Another installment of this lovely fanfic (if anyone was actually reading it)! I hope you enjoyed C: