#the poor sheep herder to the king and the princess

[dramatic-dolphin]

English does (well, did) absolutely have formal vs. informal "you" though. That's why the Lord's Prayer goes "hallowed be thy name". Thou/thee/thy/thine/thineself, and it changes the conjugation ("you are" -> "thou art", "you see" -> "thou seest").

Plot twist: because it's in the Lord's Prayer, people tend to assume "thou" is the formal. Nope! You were supposed to address the Lord like your pal.

(for further examples of its use, read Shakespeare or *checks notes* A Clockwork Orange)

oh yes, i know! what's wild for me is that english actually got rid kf the INFORMAL you. and it's not the only one! brazilian portuguese ALSO decided to get rid of the informal you instead of the formal. hell if i know why.

funnily enough, hungarian is the other way, in that we did not originally have a formal you until the 17th century or so. and even now, god is always referred to with the informal you. no distance from god, he is your friend and you will address him as such. i think that's cool :D

[nothingbutimagines]

Betrothed (Peter Parker)

Pairing: Knight!Peter Parker x Princess!Reader

Warning: Cursing and lots of angst

Summary: The young Princess Y/n is, on the outside, perfect in every way. She is high society, beautiful, educated, and cherished by all. However, the seemingly perfect princess is hiding a secret with that of a young knight, Peter Parker. Peter is upset, angry with Y/n when she is forced to choose between revealing the secret to stay out of an arranged marriage to a prince, or stay silent.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: This is the second part to Arranged. As always, requests are open and I’d love some new ideas from you all!

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

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“Why the long face, Princess? You shouldn’t be so sad on your wedding day.” Marceline asked softly, already knowing the answer.

“He is not coming, is he?” You asked, looking up at Marceline.

The older woman shook her head, her light grey hair falling into her face as her eyes grew somber.

“I don’t believe so, darling. Sir Peter told the king that he was too ill to help with the wedding and training the cavalry to be ushers. He’s been holed up in that little cabin for about a week.”

You sighed softly, your eyes looking deep into your reflection as you frowned, the tears prickling your eyes. You knew it was a foolish idea, to think that Peter would somehow wake up one day and forgive you for sending him away, for so easily throwing him away like a love letter from an old lover. 

You had done everything to get him to speak to you, sending him letters, having some of the younger maids walk down to send him gifts since Marceline had trouble walking that far. You had even showed up at his door, teary-eyed and remorseful, begging for forgiveness only to be told to leave, to never come back.

Peter had done everything in his power to keep you away, and you knew it was wrong to be torn up over it, since you had done the same thing first.

“I don’t want to get married, Marceline.” You whispered, looking at the woman in the mirror.

“I know, Princess, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I wish it were different, but we mustn’t hold such pain in our hearts. We must look on the bright side, you do not have to leave the kingdom to be with your betrothed.”

“Yes, I suppose so. However, I would see Peter everyday. I would rather leave the kingdom than see Peter for even a moment.”

“Sir Peter told me he may leave the kingdom and live with his brother, the sheep herder, in Astoria.”

“Marceline, why wouldn’t you tell me this?” You snapped, turning fully to face the older woman as she took a step back.

“Princess, I didn’t tell you because I thought it would ruin your wedding day. Sir Peter also told me to wait to tell you until he was already gone, when the wedding bells tolled.”

“Why must you always follow the orders of Sir Peter?” You cried, the tears you were holding back finally flooding out. “Anything Sir Peter tells you should be told to me, we went over this before! God, I need to go, I need to find Peter.” 

You pushed yourself up off of the chair using the vanity before you for leverage, your tears blurring your vision as you made your way to the other side of the room and slipping on your shoes. You were fueled by your anger, not just at the poor old milkmaid, but Peter as well. 

“Princess, wait!” Marceline called out as you past her, her hand grasping for your arm as you turned to her, yanking your arm away. “You cannot leave. You are in your wedding gown and your father, the king, will be here any moment to give you away.”

“You can tell him I am on a walk.”

“It is not that simple, you know that, he is pacing up and down the hall, you will never be able to pass him.”

“Then I will outrun him. He cannot stop me.”

“Princess, he knows your distaste for this arrangement. That is why he wanted Sir Peter and the cavalry to be here, to keep you in the castle.”

“Then he shouldn’t have given me a dagger.” You replied simply, turning on your heel and opening the chamber door to come face to face with your father.

You cursed yourself for being so rude to Marceline as she was right, he was pacing in the corridor and now standing before him, you never felt so small. 

“Y/n, my love, we must go. You were supposed to be upon the altar at three o’clock sharp and it is three-o-two.” Your father spoke softly, linking your arm in his before resting his hand upon yours.

“Father, I-”

“I know, love, you wish your mother was here. Believe me, I wish for that as well, but do not fret, I will be there for you.”

“Father, I don’t know if I can do this, get married.” You admitted, causing the older man to fall silent, leaving the sound of your footsteps as the only echo in the silent corridor. 

“Y/n,” Your father’s voice was stern as he finally spoke, “you will be getting married. I will not allow you to ruin the sanctity of this kingdom and our good name just because you are infatuated with a knight.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“You know who I am speaking about, do not pretend you do not.” He snapped back at you as you finally reached the entrance to the cathedral. “I have known about you sneaking away to see Sir Peter Parker all these years. I had hoped it was nothing but a teenage romance, but it seems as though I was wrong.”

“How had you known and yet never told me?” You attempted to pull away, but his hold was tight on your arm. 

“Do not speak back to me!”

You bowed your head in sorrow and shame, attempting to hide the look of fear that had fallen upon your face.

“I have heard the whispers between the housemaids, the way they snickered about you using their entrances and stairways and how it was almost romantic the way you had begun to see the handsome boy. Almost romantic! You knew I would never allow such a thing, yet you had done it anyway.”

“Father, I’m s-”

“Let me finish! I kept tabs on you, having that old milkmaid tell me what the housemaids were saying, what they were saying about you and Sir Peter Parker. That’s when I decided that it would be best to marry you off before you ruined this family’s name further. I had that boy help with the wedding in hopes it would tear you apart, and it had.” Your father sighed, leaning forward and knocking on the door for the ushers to open it. “Now, put on a smile. It is your wedding day.” 

You swallowed harshly, unsure of what to say as you allowed him to drag you down the aisle.

“Smile.” Your father hissed, only moments after you started walking. 

You complied, a faint smile now stretching on your face as you gazed down the aisle and to the altar, to where the prince stood, stoic. 

When you were a young girl, you’d always imagined that when you got married, seeing your betrothed at the end of the aisle would have you feeling joy, warming your cold feet and filling you with the utter glee of marriage. You pictured your betrothed teary-eyed and smiling in a way that showed true love. 

However, as you gazed into the blue eyes of the prince, you couldn’t feel anything but despair and could only feel your cold feet growing colder. 

You allowed your father to kiss you, give you away as he handed over your numb fingers and palm to the prince, who guided you up the small altar stairs. 

You gave the prince a small smile before sighing, your eyes moving around the chapel, trying to find Peter as if he would be there. As if he would show up and confess his love for you. 

You felt foolish, so lost in your own thoughts and your quest to find the familiar brown curls and warm eyes of the knight, the prince of your heart, that you hadn’t realized the pause in the priest’s sermon. 

“...if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” The Father announced, allowing for a moment of silence to fall upon the witnesses.

You held your breath, glancing up at the man before you, your husband to be before gazing back into the crowd. You allowed yourself to let go of the tension in your lungs as you saw the familiar brown curls peek out from behind the cathedral doors. 

“I object.” You declared before you’d even realized the words had come from your own mouth and not the opened mouth of the young knight. “I cannot go through with this arrangement when my heart is in the hands of another. I’m sorry, I must go.”

You quickly stepped out of your heels, gathering your dress in your arms before rushing down the aisle, your eyes never breaking from Peter’s gaze.

“Sir Peter!” You called out his name, a hand raising to wave for him as he fully emerged from behind the door. 

“What do you think I have assigned you to do?!” Your father bellowed from far behind you. “Retrieve her!” 

Knights began to rise from their seats as your ran, hands reaching our to grab you from the sides of the aisle. 

You slipped from their grasps, your dress tearing at the seams they attempted to pull you with and the sounds of your bare feet on marble filling your ears. You could only focus on Peter, brown eyed and soft faced Peter. 

Your arm reached out for him, his hand grasping yours as he pulled you into the foyer.

“Peter, I-”

“There is no time for words. We must go.” Peter interjected, his grip firming on your hand as he pulled you down the corridor. 

You both erupted in laughter, hands still gripping the other as you ran into the street and towards Peter’s horse. 

“Princess, would you like to run away with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You grinned, throwing your arms around his neck before kissing him with the passion you wished you had had in the first place. 

You pulled away from him as the screams and howls of your father and his knights erupted from the church, the men running towards you. 

“I believe that is our cue to leave.” Peter chuckled, quickly picking you up and helping you on the horse before getting on himself. 

You wrapped your arms around him as he guided his horse down the street, going as fast as he could away from the crowd that had started to gather in the street. 

“Peter, I am sorry.” You finally spoke up, as the kingdom had disappeared into the background and you could no longer hear the howling of the crowd. 

“No, Bug, I am sorry. I should have been more sympathetic to your situation and I should have never made it about myself. It was you that was forced into a marriage, not I.”

“Peter, you have no reason to apologize. I was the selfish one here. I did not think of you, not once. And I should have done so. I should have considered you before I made my decision.”

“It is alright, Bug. We both have things to feel sorrow for.” 

His hand rested on yours, his thumb running over your fingers as silence fell upon you once again. 

“Why did you come to my wedding? I had believed you were not going to come.” You finally asked, the question mulling over in your mind once again.

“I could not go another day without loving you.” Peter stated simply. “I could not go another day without you knowing that I loved you, even if you would spend your life with another.” 

“You will never have to go another day without being by my side. I swear to you.”