Title: The Princess and the Puppet
Author: snarkysweetness
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Emma, Pinocchio/August, & Henry; Emma/Pinocchio a.k.a. Emma/August
Summary: Emma's life was supposed to be a fairytale.
Warnings: Feels and so much adorable fluff your teeth may rot.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: Happy birthday, Su. I'm not sorry for your tears. Many thanks to my wife whose tag spiral on one of Angelique's posts inspired this because this is one of my favorite things ever.
Her skirts billowed in the wind as she rushed through the honeysuckle brush.
"Run all you want, princess, but I will find you. I always do," a deep voice warned.
She withheld a giggle as she kicked off her shoes and rushed towards the small clearing bearing the pomegranate trees she was so eager to find. She was too quick for him and once she was hidden in the branches and leaves of the trees, he'd never find her.
"There you are," he said as he grabbed her by the waist from behind. Emma let out a loud squeal as he picked her up in his arms and gave her a small twirl before setting her back onto her feet. He leaned in for a kiss but she squirmed away, unhappy to have lost their game.
"I will not be kissing you today, Pinocchio," she said with a small huff. He gave her a small pout but she wasn't having it. She crossed her arms indignantly, expecting an apology. But instead of apologizing, he rushed at her and pulled her into his arms before falling back onto the ground. She chuckled as they rolled around. He laid in the brush, holding her close. She swatted at his chest before wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her head over his heart. He kissed the top of her head and she wrinkled her nose.
"Don't be cross with me, Emma, I warned you that I would catch you."
"Yes, well, I meant what I said about kissing." She said as she rested her elbows on his chest and gazed up at him. He reached out to pull dandelions from her blond curls with a beautiful smile on his face. Her heart ached as she remembered how much she missed him and she decided to indulge him.
She leaned in and placed a small kiss to his lips.
"Just that one, any more and you'll be spoiled."
"Is that so?" He asked with a smirk.
"It is," she replied before jumping to her feet and running for the trees. She easily climbed up while he yelled at her to get down before she broke her neck. Emma rolled her eyes, they'd been friends their entire lives, and he had always fretted over her.
"You'll drown one of these days," he would say as she swam in every creek or lake they came upon.
"You can't just ride every hose you find, one will throw you to your death someday," he warned.
"You'll break your neck one of these days," he cried out.
He could fret all he wanted; after all, she was still here. And if it wasn't for her, he would never have any fun. He was so concerned about keeping his promise to be a 'good' boy that he sometimes forgot to live. Of course, when fire lit behind his eyes before he crushed her to his body and kissed her was when he was truly living.
Emma hopped down from a low branch, bright red juice already trickling down her chin as she handed Pinocchio an untainted piece of fruit. He gently took the pomegranate from her hand and stepped forward with a small smirk on his lips. He leaned down and carefully licked the juice off of her skin. Emma froze as a chill went through her spine.
He slipped her half eaten piece of fruit out of her hand and tossed it and his own to the side before leaning down to claim her lips with his own. Emma gave up being stubborn in favor of enjoying his kisses and wrapped both arms around his neck. He pressed her into the tree and she sighed happily.
Becoming a knight had been the dumbest thing he'd ever done. Yes, it may have proved his worth to her father, but it took him away from her, away from this, and she hated it.
She'd fallen in love with her best friend and had spent well over a year hiding it from her parents. She'd feared her father would never accept it because it was simply Pinocchio, the woodcarver's son. He'd always made a huge deal out of her marrying a royal and her fear had driven Pinocchio to try to prove himself.
And for no reason. Her mother was much smarter than Emma gave her credit for and had known all along. Her support had convinced him to come around, but he'd let Pinocchio ride out with the knights anyway, because he could.
Emma still spited him for that.
She whined in protest as Pinocchio broke their kiss but smiled when he went in for another. She moved her fingers into his hair, glad they no longer had to hide their love, even if their moments together were now as rare as rain in the sands.
"I love you, princess," he whispered against her lips as he pulled her against him.
"I love you, too, puppet," she teased as she gazed up at his handsome face. She didn't care how he'd come into being, she was just grateful to have him. He was the best man she'd ever met and he treasured her. Sometimes she thought her heart would explode in her chest from an overabundance of love for him.
He smiled and pressed something small into the palm of her hand. She watched him in confusion before looking down. A small gasp escaped her lips and before she could question him, he was on his knees.
"Pinocchio," she breathed. Her heart pounded in her chest and her cheeks flared.
"Princess?"
She smiled and didn't even mind that her eyes were filled to the brim with tears. They both knew that he didn't have to ask, but there was one problem.
"My father?"
He grinned.
"You don't believe I'd dare ask without his blessing?"
She pulled him to his feet and threw both arms around him.
"You already know my answer," she said as she kissed him fiercely.
She could picture their life now: two or three beautiful children with his eyes and her spirit while fairly running both of her queendoms. She smiled against his lips, grateful for her perfect and beautiful life.
"I love you," she whispered as she kissed him once more.
"Mom?"
She could hear Henry's small voice calling for her, but her grief was too much to bear. He didn't need to see her like this, but she couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her face.
"Are you okay?"
She clutched the leather jacket she'd been holding even tighter and shook her head.
"No," she forced out. "Go find your grandfather, Henry," she hissed, not wanting him here for this.
His tiny feet moved across the floorboards and she shook her head, trying to fight off the images of her recurring dreams that haunted her waking hours. Her life wasn't supposed to be this Hell. She, Henry, and August should have been a family. They should have been together and happy. But instead she was holed up in her bedroom crying over a dead man while traumatizing their son.
"I miss him too, mom," Henry whispered as he wrapped his arms around her.
Emma wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into her arms. She hugged him tightly and kissed hid temple.
"I know you do, baby."
"We'll find a way to get him back," Henry assured.
She almost sobbed at his faith. He was so much like August that way; both hopelessly willing to believe that anything was possible. As much as she wanted to believe that they could bring him back, she knew it was useless.
When he'd died on her in that room in the Inn, it had fueled her need to save Henry. When he'd died in her arms at the sheriff's station, a small part of her had died with him. And when he'd come back to life only to become a child, forgetting his entire life, her, Henry, everything, every ounce of hope she still possessed had been crushed.
Their lives had been meant to be a fairytale but Regina had taken that life away from them and stuck them in this nightmare.
She couldn't even look at Pinocchio, knowing that the man she loved was gone and in his place was a poor lost and confused little boy. She wanted nothing more than to go back and change things. She'd made mistakes, he'd made mistakes, but her mistakes had cost him his life.
She hated herself for it and she would never forgive herself.
That was why she now punished herself by replaying their life as it should have been on repeat in her mind.
"We can try," she said, not wanting to kill Henry's hope. She laid back and held him against her chest as she took shallow breaths to calm her sobbing.
"Do you want to hear a story?" She whispered after a few minutes.
"Sure."
"Once upon a time there lived a princess and a puppet," she began.
"He's beautiful, what shall we name him?"
Emma smiled down at the squirming red bundle in her arms. She glanced up find Pinocchio's eyes filled with tears and she blinked away her own.
"Henry. After my great-grandfather."
"It's a good name, a strong name. The name of a king."
"I know," she whispered as she pressed a soft kiss to the top of the infant's head. Pinocchio wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple.
"I love you, princess."
And they lived happily ever after.