Title: What the Forest Taught Me
Summary: As Snow pulled the car onto a dirt access road in the woods, she noticed that her grandson was practically bouncing in his seat from excitement. "Are you ready for this?" she asked a little unnecessarily. "Are you kidding? I was ready for this the day we bought the bow and arrows!"
Spoilers: Let's say everything up to 2x11, "The Outsider."
Rating/Warning: K+, for brief language. Family fluff.
Characters: Snow and Henry, with guest appearances by Emma and Charming.
Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time and its characters were created by Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. I'm just having fun with them.
Author's Note: A second Snow-and-Henry story request by Mere-Brennan, and as such, it's sort of a companion piece to my previous story, "The Best Day." You don't have to have read that one to follow this one. At the risk of exposing my utter geekiness for '90s video games (or, you know, this one video game in particular), the title of and inspiration for the story came from a track of the same name from the soundtrack to Secret of Mana, which has long been my favorite video game soundtrack ever. It was too perfect not to use, though. :) As always, feedback is love. Enjoy!
"Um, Gramma?" came Henry Mills' tentative little voice from the passenger seat beside Snow White. "The school's the other way."
"I'm well aware of that," Snow replied, her tone teasing. Of course she was well aware of where the school was; she'd only taught there every single day for twenty-eight years.
Not that her revelation made Henry any less confused. "But we always practice in the fields behind the school. Unless ..." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, wanting to watch the expression on his face as light dawned. It was only after she piloted the car around a corner that he finally seemed to realize where she was taking him. "Wait a sec. Did I graduate?"
"You did indeed," Snow said with a soft smile.
"Yes!" he whispered, a proud grin spreading across his face. Snow hid a grin of her own and returned her full attention on the road.
For a little while now, Snow had been giving Henry archery lessons in the soccer fields behind the elementary school. Any time the two of them had a free couple of hours, they would head to the stables to borrow a couple bales of hay to use as targets. Then they would make their way over to the school and set up their targets at the bottom of the hill on the fields.
Arrows would be flying within minutes. Snow's were real, of course, but Henry's were tipped in suction cups. The toy archery set still gave him a feel for the mechanics of the weapon, so after his initial disappointment that he wouldn't get to use real arrows, he'd been more than willing to work with it. Plus, Emma would have had Snow's head for giving Henry a real archery set.
Snow didn't think Henry was ready to move up to real weaponry yet, anyway. She did think, however, that he was ready to take his act on the road. The fields weren't presenting as much of a challenge to him anymore, so it was time to up the difficulty level.
Henry had long wanted to feel like a marksman in the Enchanted Forest, and he clearly couldn't have been happier that he was finally getting his chance. As Snow pulled the car onto a dirt access road in the woods, she noticed that her grandson was practically bouncing in his seat from excitement. "Are you ready for this?" she asked a little unnecessarily.
"Are you kidding? I was ready for this the day we bought the bow and arrows!"
Yes, just as she'd suspected. She watched with a soft smile as he took off his seat belt and scrambled out of the car.
Henry waited patiently while she unclicked her own seat belt, removed the key from the ignition, and climbed out of the car. As she rounded the station wagon, she realized he wasn't waiting as patiently as she'd originally believed. His little foot was tapping in anticipation.
Hiding a grin, she opened the hatch. "Let's get to it."
Henry simply beamed in response.
The two of them hooked their quivers over their shoulders, set their bows down on a bale of hay, and lifted everything out of the car. Snow closed the back of the wagon and motioned for Henry to follow her into the woods.
Just a few steps into the trees, Snow found the perfect spot. A couple of trees had fallen long ago, leaving a space that was not too closed in but not wide open, either. "What do you think about right here?" she asked, setting her bale of hay down at the edge of the tree line.
Henry glanced around, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I like it." He plopped his hay down and held out his hand for her bow and quiver. She handed it over without another word.
Every time they went out, Henry would choose their shooting spot while Snow set up the targets. This time he chose a spot about thirty feet back, which was a bit more distance than the spot he usually chose in the fields. With the added distractions of the woods, Snow wasn't sure that shooting from farther away was the best idea but she let him do it anyway.
After getting the targets set up, she headed over to her grandson. Just as he did at the beginning of every lesson, he was practicing his stance with her bow. His bow was plastic and far lighter than hers. Her bow was also much too big for him, a fact he had come to understand the first time he tried to shoot with it.
Still, she let him handle both the bow and the arrows for a few minutes each time they went out. They never told Emma any of it, though ... mostly because neither of them had a death wish.
"All right, let's get going," she said, gently reaching out for her bow. He handed it over with a sheepish smile before picking up his own.
Already he was having a little trouble finding a good stance. "This is going to be a bit different from the fields," she said, taking care not to make her voice sound too teacher-ish. He always teased her when she slipped back into elementary school teacher mode. "The ground is uneven, which will make finding your footing a little harder. The sounds of the birds in the trees and the animals moving around you are probably going to be distracting. What we're going to work on today is learning how to overcome all that and work with the forest rather than against it. All right?"
"Okay," he nodded.
"Good," Snow smiled. "Now, let's see you try to get off a shot."
He nodded again, planted his feet, and pulled an arrow from the quiver. He expertly notched the arrow but Snow noticed his hands trembling slightly as he raised the bow. She watched as he inhaled twice and set his shoulders.
Just as Henry was about to let the arrow fly, a robin swooped in between him and the target. It was a simple fly-by but it startled Henry to the point that he jerked the bow to the side as he released the arrow. The arrow careened off-course, skimming past his bale of hay and embedding its suction-cup tip in a blanket of dead leaves. "Aw, man!" he muttered, already reaching over his shoulder for another arrow.
"That would have startled me, too," Snow told him gently. "The trick is learning to keep the bow steady even when you're startled. What do you think would have helped you keep the arrow on course?"
He lowered the bow and frowned as he thought about what had gone wrong with his previous shot. "If I'd locked my elbow, I might not have pulled the bow to the side so much. And if I'd been watching out of the corner of my eye, I would have seen the bird coming."
"There you go," she smiled. Henry smiled back and notched another arrow.
He fired off the next two arrows without a hitch. As he was getting ready to release the third, a squirrel darted out from between the trees. Snow held a breath but this time, Henry wasn't startled. He had seen it coming and kept his elbow locked, and the arrow remained steady on its course. "Great job!" Snow exclaimed when the arrow hit the target just left of dead center.
The smile on his face was one of well-deserved pride. "I did it!" he cried.
"You certainly did," she replied, wrapping her arms around him in a congratulatory hug.
"I guess you can learn all kinds of things from the forest," he said, grinning up at her as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
"You certainly can," she agreed with a gentle smile.
He held her in the hug for a moment longer before pulling away and going to retrieve his arrows.
The two of them shot side by side, Snow offering tips and fixing his stance every so often, until daylight began to fade. "I think it's time to start heading home, Henry," Snow spoke up after she'd shot her last arrow. "Your mom and grandpa are probably wondering where we are."
"They probably are," he agreed. "Plus, I'm kind of getting hungry."
That revelation came as no surprise to her at all. An eleven-year-old boy was always hungry.
As they walked over to the targets to gather their arrows, Henry asked, "Gramma?"
"Hmm?"
"When you and Mom were in the Enchanted Forest, did you teach her how to do this?"
Snow stopped walking and stared at her grandson with what she was sure was a pained expression on her face. She'd wanted more than anything to teach Emma how to shoot but Emma hadn't seemed at all interested. "No," she replied softly. "She seemed more comfortable with the sword, and I didn't want to push." She'd pushed Emma enough in the Forest; pushing the archery lessons might have been the one thing to completely shut her daughter down.
"We should teach her," he said, giving a little nod as he collected her arrows as well as his own.
At the thought, Snow's heart skipped a beat. Broaching the Enchanted Forest way of life with Emma, especially here in Storybrooke, was something that had to be done delicately, and Snow hadn't yet found the right time and place. "Why do you think we should teach her?"
He shrugged as he carefully handed her the bundle of arrows. "She wants to learn."
Now her heart was beating faster than ever. Emma wanted to learn? Her baby girl wanted to learn archery? "Did she say that to you?"
"No, but I can tell by the way she watches me when I practice. She kind of looks jealous, like she wishes she could do it, too." He shrugged again, a little smile on his face. "So, what do you think? Should we get her an archery set like mine?"
A smile pulled at the corners of Snow's mouth. If Emma agreed to the lessons, something told Snow that she would not be satisfied in the slightest with a plastic bow and arrows tipped with suction cups. "We'll see," she said to her grandson. "How about we bring it up to her tonight before we get her her own set, all right?"
"Yeah, sure," he shrugged. He calmly replaced his arrows in his quiver, completely oblivious to the loop for which he had just thrown his grandmother.
Snow's heart pounded the entire way home. On the one hand, she felt ridiculous for being so nervous about, essentially, asking her daughter a question. On the other hand, this question was far from simple. It was loaded with maybes and could haves and should haves and missed time they were attempting to get back.
She was nervous as hell. Nervous that Emma would say no, or worse, that the question itself would upset her. Henry took these kinds of things – the family activities coming years later than they should have – in stride. Emma, not so much.
As she shifted the car into park with a trembling hand, Henry must have finally realized just how nervous she was. He rested a hand on her arm and smiled. "It'll be okay, Gramma. I know she'll say yes."
What struck her the most was how utterly confident he seemed. And if Henry was certain, she could try to find it within her to be certain as well.
She could do this. One of her lessons from the Forest had been bravery, she reminded herself. After taking a moment to settle her nerves, she returned her grandson's smile. "I'm sure she will."
The Forest had taught her countless things. Courage and patience and how to survive. It had saved her life. But more than anything, the Forest had taught her how to connect with her daughter. Every time she got to hug her baby or hold her hand or even something as simple as keep watch over her at night, her heart had overflowed with joy. And slowly but surely, Emma had come around.
It was crazy how much closer having to rely on each other for survival could bring two people.
And now, Snow was about to take that connection and that bond to the next level. Teaching Henry how to shoot was one thing. A wonderfully fulfilling thing, of course, but he'd asked her. This next step was going to be Snow asking Emma, mother asking daughter and hoping that daughter would agree.
Henry, with all his childlike exuberance, was easy. Emma took a little bit more delicacy. Still, her time with her grandson on the fields and in the woods had taught her to trust him, and if Henry said Emma would agree, then Snow had to believe that she would.
As soon as she set foot over the threshold, she smelled the simmering tomato sauce. A smile that was equal parts comfort and amusement spread across her face. The apartment certainly smelled like home but she should have guessed that leaving Charming and Emma in charge of dinner would result in spaghetti and meatballs for the family. It was the only meal the two of them could manage to put together without any assistance.
David and Emma both looked up from their tasks of stirring the sauce and setting the table, respectively, at the entrance of the other two members of their family. "How'd it go?" Emma asked as she watched Henry and Snow both hang up their quivers and bows on the coat hooks for the time being.
"The woods are really distracting and I have to learn to keep my elbow locked," Henry said sagely.
When Emma arched a confused brow at Snow, she just gave a slight shake of her head. "He did very well," she told her daughter with a smile down at her grandson. Henry beamed at the praise. "Almost got a bulls-eye on his fourth try."
"That's awesome, kid," Emma smiled as she placed the glasses on the table. "Maybe we should go back out there tomorrow so you can show me."
At her words, Henry nudged Snow's hip with the back of his hand. A smile curled on her lips; she couldn't have asked for a more perfect opening. "Actually, we were talking about that."
Charming immediately looked up at her when he caught her hesitant tone. He wrinkled his brow, silently asking her what was wrong. When she quickly darted her eyes in Emma's direction, comprehension washed over his features. He smiled at her, and that smile was all the encouragement she needed. Returning her attention to her daughter, she asked, "How would you feel about learning how to shoot?"
A flurry of emotions crossed Emma's face in a fraction of a second. Snow caught love and anticipation and pride before Emma managed to get her emotional mask back in place. She averted her gaze and refocused on her task. "What, with my own set of suction-cupped arrows?" Emma asked as she fiddled with the silverware, her tone mostly teasing but slightly strained.
And now, it was time to take an even bigger chance. "No. I was thinking you could use my bow."
Emma's head shot up in surprise. When Snow felt Henry's hand wrap around hers and squeeze, she squeezed back. "You're trusting me with real weapons?" Emma deadpanned, a desperate attempt to make a joke.
At that, Snow smirked. "I've seen you wield a sword, remember? I know you can handle real weapons."
For a long moment, everyone was silent. Snow could hear the hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the wall clock. Then, after what felt like an eternity, Emma nodded. "Yeah, sure."
Snow released a breath she hadn't even been aware she was holding and once again squeezed her grandson's hand, this time in touched relief.
"I already used his weapon," Emma continued, jerking a thumb in her father's direction. "Why not yours?"
David set the wooden spoon down on the counter and stepped over to the table, a look of confused wonder on his face. "When did you use my …" He trailed off as realization hit. "The dragon."
"Yep," Emma sighed. "Gold told me I should take my father's sword on my quest to find magic. Never told me a damn thing about slaying a dragon. Cheeky bastard."
Snow smiled gently as she met her husband's eyes. He looked simultaneously awed that his daughter had slayed a dragon with his sword and disappointed that he hadn't been there to witness it. All it took was a look to tell him that someday, he would have his chance to see her take up a sword. He nodded at her and returned her smile, letting her know that he understood.
"So we're on for tomorrow?" Henry asked. Snow sent out a silent thank you for his inability to let the moment pass without setting the plan in stone.
"We are," Emma affirmed, glancing up at her mother. "If that's all right with you, I mean."
"Of course it's all right with me," Snow replied, trying her hardest to sound nonchalant and not at all like a mother whose child had just made her whole entire week.
"Good," Emma smiled.
And, as was typical of Emma, there was no lingering on the moment. The next words out of her mouth were asking Charming how much longer the spaghetti had to cook because she was starving.
"Just a couple more minutes," David assured her with a chuckle.
With the activity in the room now focused on getting dinner on the table, Henry tugged on Snow's hand and motioned for her to lean close, as if to hear a secret. "I told you she'd say yes," he whispered, grinning at his grandmother.
It was not at all hard to return his grin. "Yes, you certainly did," she replied, thanking her lucky stars for her grandson. Her absolutely wonderful grandson who, in his own way, was bringing his family together.
Bravery and patience and trust had certainly gotten her quite a few things in her time, but the opportunity to spend time with her family, teaching them the skills she herself had learned from the Forest was the most precious gift she could have received.