Hushabye Mountain
Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.
Emma doesn't remember being sung lullabies, doesn't remember being read bedtime stories or getting goodnight kisses and hugs.
But her son expects all these things, and she does her best for him.
Goodnight kisses and hugs come easily, as do bedtime stories, she even gets daring and can do some pretty good character voices, but lullabies are something else entirely.
Luckily he hasn't asked for any yet, and she's starting to think she dodged that bullet, that he's too old for them, when he wakes her up one night, trembling from the aftermath of a nightmare.
And in pajamas with wide teary eyes and bedhead he looks anything but too old. In an instant she's out of bed and hugging him, feeling him cling to her in a near stranglehold, refusing to let go.
So she picks him up, something he's definitely too big, if not too old for, but she somehow manages to take them both down the stairs to his bed. He sees where they're going and holds on even tighter, but she has no intention of going back to sleep until he's in dreamland himself.
This in mind she heads for the couch instead of the hide-away bed they'd invested in since deciding that their entire family would share the small apartment. Sitting down with huff, she feels him relax, but only slightly, those big brown eyes peering up at her, questioning. And she sighs, taking a deep breath before beginning.
It's not that she can't sing, she just rather not. But whatever's haunting her little boy tonight she knows no bedtime story will fix, and obviously hugs are only going so far, so desperate times call for desperate measures. It's the only lullaby she knows, so she can only hope it works.
"A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain
Softly blows o'er lullaby bay."
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting-
Waiting to sail your worries away."
She tries the first few lines, glancing down to see all his attention on her, enrapt, as if he can't quite believe that she's singing. You and me both, kid, she thinks, but sings on.
"It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain
And your boat waits down by the key.
The winds of night so softly are sighing—
Soon they will fly your troubles to sea."
Another quick glance reassures her that it is working; with every word Henry blinks faster, trying so hard to stay awake. Nice try, she smirks, the sight only making her voice grow even softer, even more soothing. And she can't stop the smile that replaces the smirk as he finally gives in, closing his eyes and snuggling closer in her arms.
"So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain.
Wave good-bye to cares of the day.
And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain
Sail far away from lullaby bay."
It works so well in fact, that she doesn't notice her own eyes drooping until it's too late. Slouching deeper into the couch, her cheek coming to rest against Henry's slumbering head, she happily resigns herself to a stiff neck in the morning with the knowledge that she was able to comfort her son.
Emma never sees Snow creep in shortly after, a blanket in hand that she wraps carefully around them both.
"That's my girl," she whispers approvingly, daring to press a soft kiss against her daughter's head and then Henry's before slipping back into her own room.
"Everything alright?" Charming asks groggily as she climbs back into bed, taking up her place by his side once more.
"Perfect," she nods, smiling into his chest as he holds her closer, "I now know our daughter has your singing voice."
"You don't say," James yawns, already half asleep and wholly unaware of everything she's said.
Snow only smiles, wrapping an arm around her husband while humming the tune her daughter had sung, and quickly losing herself to sleep as well.
A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain...