England x Royal!Reader: Duties

    As the oldest child of two daughters of the king and queen of England, I was one of the most important people in the entire country (right after my parents). Not only that, but I had men lined up for me, right at my feet. For most people, this was a fantasy. For me? It was a nightmare.

    While I enjoyed being a young lady that was wanted by even the most attractive young men, it was exhausting. My parents talked of marriage as though it didn't matter at all how I felt about the subject. I had young men over almost every week. My parents sized all of them up, wanting the absolute best: great with money, very attractive, and being able to start a family.

    Today was another one of those days. Another young man was sitting on one of our couches, looking like he was about to piss himself. It was almost funny, if he hadn't been asking for my hand in marriage. The living room had become more of a conference room: my mother and father sat on either side of me, the boy and his mother and father on the couch opposite of us, and on the couch to the left of the two couches sat my personal adviser, Arthur.

    My relationship with Arthur has always been a bit strange. Ever since I was born, he has hovered over me, making sure that nothing would happen to the possible heir of the throne. I wasn't allowed outside very often, and I made very few friends that were my age. My studies were paid for in full so that I would learn everything I needed to, including the boring stuff.

    Arthur was with me through all of that. Even though he was a a bit- alright, very- grumpy, he cared about my wellbeing. As I grew older, however, that role changed. I had learned about his identity as a country when I was younger, and I had seen pictures of him that were older than my mother.

    Now that I was 20 years old, my family had to find me a husband. I was to get married and become the queen of England. Not only did my parents have to approve of my future husband from a familial standpoint, but Arthur had to approve of him as well. After all, the man I married had to be capable of running the country.

    "Mrs. [L/N], I really believe that our son will be a perfect candidate for your daughter. We come from a long line of successful entrepreneurs and he is a very hard worker."

    "Yes, I understand. You own one of the biggest companies in all of England. But, your son... He's a bit thin. He doesn't seem to have much in the way of muscle."

    "Well, mom-" I started, trying to defend the poor man's pride. My mother simply shushed me, looking at the other woman in the room.

    "That makes sense. However, nothing that a bit of time and work can't fix! Besides, he is stronger than he looks. He could lift your beautiful daughter up with little effort."

    "Well, how is your son with spending? My daughter deserves to be absolutely spoiled like the queen that she will become." my father said. My face got warm.

    The three talked over finances and such, but I just rolled my eyes and looked at Arthur. He was wearing the same frown that he always did during these... meetings?

    In all honesty, it was times like these when I wished that I wasn't royalty, or at least I was the younger sibling. My sister didn't have to even sit in for these things. She was with three of our many maids, playing out in the yard. Even though she couldn't really have friends either, she had more freedom than I did. When Arthur caught my eye, he took notice of the expression I wore. He jumped in immediately.

    "I think that it is worth mentioning, lady [R/L/N], that in the last five months there has been a steady increase in the erratic habits of your son. Take April for example- that month, your son spent €3 million on a brand that was not doing well, and he has yet to make back 1/5 of the amount he put in. It has been four months."

    "Furthermore, he has been known to throw away money, and has been caught spending money on rivaling brands. Is that not true, mister [R/L/N]?" he asked to the young man. Immediately his parents' eyes widened, and they looked at him.

    "You did what?!" asked his mother.

    "P-please, it was for a friend!-"

    "I doubt. When you gave a tour of your home just two short weeks ago, I saw one of the outfits sitting out. Mr. and Mrs. [R/L/N], you may run a successful brand, but your son does not. I think we're done here."

    And, just like that, the meeting was over. Even though I felt bad for the man, I was glad to be done. However, I was stuck doing almost nothing. I decided to see what Arthur was up to. He had left almost as quickly as the meeting had ended, but I knew of a place that I could find him.

    The library was relatively large and contained books from many years passed. However, Arthur read many of the classics. I walked through the shelves before stopping at an area that had a fireplace, a few chairs, and an end table.

    "What are you reading?" I asked, leaning over him. He didn't look up.

    "Wuthering Heights," he replied.

    "Oh, that's a nice one." I deadpanned. He hummed in reply. After a few moments of silence, I put my head on his shoulder. His eyes shifted to me before going back to the book.

    "What is it, [Y/N]?" he asked.

    "Huh, nothing.. I'm just bored." I complained.

    "Why don't you find your sister, then?"

    "Uh, because she's probably out in the yard. I'm not really supposed to be out there right now." I sighed. At this, Arthur closed his book.

    "Alright, then, what is it?"

    "What?"

    "You are bothering me. I'm sure whatever is on your mind won't go away until I ask."

    "Smart." I commented, hearing a hum in reply. "It's just... I wish I was like her."

    "Your sister? What for?"

    "Well, she gets all of the freedom. I'm three years older than she is, yet my parents treat me like I'm already 30! All because I'm supposed to be the future queen."

    "... And? You're treated like royalty. You are going to be the queen." he said, looking a bit confused.

    "What if I don't want to be the queen? I mean, what if I want to be able to do other stuff. What if... What if I already know who I want to be with, but he's none of the men my parents want?"

    "And just who is this man that you want to be with so much, hm?" he asked, looking at me skeptically. Even though I knew he wanted what was best for me, he didn't understand. It wasn't like I could tell him anyway. He was an adviser, and I was a princess. Even if it was him that I liked, it couldn't work.

    I groaned before balling my hands into fists. I shook my head.

    "It doesn't matter!" I said. I turned away from him and ran out of the library, hearing him calling after me.

    A few hours later, I heard a knock at the door. It was soft. I knew that my mother was knocking. I didn't have to say anything before she entered, her face showing concern. What was the news? It had to be important if she was coming directly to me.

    "Hey, are you alright, darling?" she asked.

    "What do you mean?"

    "Arthur told me that something was wrong. You needed to talk to me about it. He said it was very, very important."

    I couldn't believe that Arthur had called my mom instead of just letting it go. There was no lie that I could tell. If I said something else, she would have thought that I wasted my time.

    "Mom... I don't.. want to be the queen."

    "Excuse me?"

    "I just don't! I mean, I know I'm the oldest sibling, and I know that it's tradition, but I'm sick of this routine. I don't want to be sat across from some rich gentleman who I'm just supposed to fall in love with and become queen. It sucks not having friends, or being able to go out, or... any of that! My friends are the people who live with me."

    "Mom, being queen is not my plan. I don't want to marry any of these men. Besides, I love someone else. I can't marry another man."

    My mother looked at me like I was crazy. She put her hand on top of mine, her expression shifting to concern.

    "I understand. This is a difficult job to have. But, [Y/N], you are to become the queen. You are so smart, beautiful, and capable of running the country. Your father and I see so much in you. Even though you are not a son, you have what it takes."

    "What about my sister? Doesn't she have what it takes? I mean, we've both been through the same education, and she is a lot more connected to the outside world than I am..." my mom thought for a moment.

    "The only way she could take your place is if she really wanted to be the queen. She would have to agree. But, I still think that you are plenty good enough for the job."

    "Do it for England, darling." she said. She leaned in, kissing my forehead. I felt so angry. Do it for England? My shoulders slumped and I closed my eyes. I didn't want to be a princess. I wanted to be able to choose where my life would go.

    Dinner that night was rough. We all ate in silence as usual, but it felt... thicker? I excused myself as early as possible, not wanting to look at my parents or at Arthur. The next few days were very similar. Outside of the meeting that we had with the second gentleman this week, I didn't really talk.

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    "Love, open up." I heard a voice say through the door. Arthur? "I know you're in your room."

    It had been almost a week, and I hadn't talked to Arthur at all. He knew that there was a problem. In fact, just about everyone knew that there was a problem.

    "[Y/N]."

    "Go away, Arthur, I'm busy."

    "With what? I know that you've got nothing to do."

    I sighed and stood up, opening the door. I invited him into my room, closing the door behind him.

    "Are you still angry about being a queen?" he asked. I sat down on my bed, nodding. "Why is it such a big deal? Honestly, if this is really about marriage, then just tell me who it is and I may be able to-"

    "It's you." I said.

    "-try to get your- what?!" he asked, his eyes shooting open. He looked at me as though I had just told him that I was running away or something.

    "Did you just say what I think you said? You want to marry me?"

    "I mean, marriage isn't a requirement, but..." I looked away, a blush creeping onto my cheeks. Confessing to Arthur was a bad idea. No.. more like a terrible one.

    It was silent for about a solid minute. Finally I got tired of the quiet in the room.

    "Look, I get it, you're an adviser, this is your job. Just tell me you don't like me back so that we can move on." I started.

    "I can't say that." he stated. I looked up at him, seeing him staring right at me.

    "Why not?"

    "Because it's not true." he said. "Look, plenty of those men were attractive, rich, and loving. They were perfect for you. But..."

    "Ah, to hell with it, I didn't want to let you go. Not yet."

    I stared at him blankly. The reason that I wasn't already married was because he didn't want to see me get married to someone else? He liked me too much to give me away?

    "But.. I don't understand." I said. "I have to get married at some point. Eventually, I will have to fulfill my duties, and marry a man, and consuma-"

    "Don't say that. Thinking about some man touching you that isn't me is just.. Difficult." he admitted, his face getting redder by the second. "Still, I know that eventually I will have to give you away. You're better off with one of those men anyway. They have more to offer you, I am sure."

    He stood in front of me, looking away. I stood up from my bed and hugged Arthur. His body stiffened, but he slowly melted into the hug, timidly pressing his fingers against my back.

    "I can't marry those men. You can't watch me marry those men. What are we going to do?" I asked. Arthur sighed, gripping me closer to him. I knew that he was conflicted. Arthur had a deep sense of responsibility.

    Slowly, he pushed me backwards, and I felt the wall against my back. I looked into his eyes to see love. Passion. I saw a need in his eyes that I wasn't familiar with. It was more intimate, yet primal than what I had seen in the men that came to my house looking for marriage. Arthur wanted me.

    "I can tell you something that we can do..." he almost growled. I felt his mouth on mine and I didn't resist. He kissed me with a passion that nobody else would ever match. I kissed him back, placing my hands on his cheeks. I cupped his face in my hands, and he deepened the kiss.

    His hands started at my sides. But when I felt his hands moving slowly downward, I blushed. He grabbed my hips and pressed his lower half against me. I gasped, feeling the heat from his body. My hands dropped to his chest.

    He kissed the corner of my mouth, then my cheek, then my jawline. When he got to my neck, I sucked in a breath. My neck was so sensitive that feeling his lips against them was like heaven.

    "Ah, Arthur..." I mumbled. He stopped and looked at me, eyes filled with desire.

    "Say that again, love." he growled against the shell of my ear. "Say my name. Please."

    "Arthur, my neck is, ah-" I felt him kiss my throat. "My neck is sensitive!"

    Upon hearing this, he attacked my neck with kisses. He sucked on the flesh at the base of my neck for a few seconds before pressing a kiss to it. I grabbed his face. I pulled him back into another kiss, my tongue entering his mouth. I explored it, and when I pulled away, I panted.

    He created a bit of space between us, kissing my cheek. I could barely stand, and we hadn't even done anything! Arthur was great at this.

    "Sorry, love, I... got a bit carried away." he apologized. I shook my head. I giggled and kissed his forehead, making him blush even more. He buried his face into my neck, sighing against my skin. I stroked his back gently.

    "What are we going to do?" I asked.

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    It took a lot of convincing on my part for my parents to relieve me of my duties as the (former) future queen of England. I had to keep pushing for months, trying to get my parents to see my way. At first they were absolutely against me stepping down. I was older and had been trained. However, when my parents learned of how many strengths my sister had, they reconsidered.

    Five months after I confessed my desire not to become queen, my parents gave in. My sister took my place in that regard. While Arthur was going to advise my sister who would come to be the queen, he was to make sure that I was safe. I would find a house close to my family.

    The news in the papers made it seem so scandalous that I should step down. However, when my sister was announced just a few short months later, they fell in love with her just as they did me. Arthur had found the two of us a house that was close enough to my original home.

    "Keep your eyes closed," he said, holding his hands over my eyes.

    "I haven't opened them yet!"

    "Alright..." he took his hands off of my eyes. "Open them."

    I almost gasped when I saw the house. Compared to the one I had lived in before, it was small. It was quaint, cute, and located in a great spot. My eyes were wide.

    "This is our home," Arthur said softly. He brought me inside, showing me the living room, kitchen, and bathroom downstairs. There was also an upstairs. There, I saw a bathroom, a guest room, and a master bedroom. Everything was already moved in to my complete shock.

    I heard the door to the bedroom shut, and I looked at Arthur. He pushed me onto the mattress of the bed, getting on top of me. I bit my lip, looking up at him.

    "I love you, [Y/N]." he said to me. I blushed.

    "I love you too." I replied.

    He kissed me, running his tongue over my lower lip. I allowed him entrance and his tongue met mine. I moaned slightly as I felt his hands pushing against my hips. When he pulled away, I squirmed a bit and he chuckled.

    "You're adorable, [Y/N]." he teased, sitting up. His hands ghosted down my chest and stomach, making me shiver and close my eyes. The sensation of his hands just above my skin was beautiful. I wanted more.

    "Arthur..." I said, a bit embarrassed.

    "Yes?" he asked. When I opened my eyes, he wore a smirk.

    "I want.. Ah.." I looked away. He leaned over me.

    "What do you want?"

    "Arthur, I want you." I said. This made him blush this time. His hands touched my burning skin, and his fingers drifted to the buttons of my blouse. He played with them as he kissed me again. In a turn of events, I grabbed his shirt, pushing him over so that I was on top. His eyes widened. I giggled and kissed his neck. I heard him groan a bit, and he shifted his body a bit.

    "Don't play with me," he growled into my ear. "Don't leave me waiting."

    And believe me, I didn't.