A/N: Written for a Tumblr prompt – Bridesmaids. Reviews fuel the writing flame.

Emma studies herself in Regina's full length mirror, running her palms over her stomach and sides to smooth out the creases in her deep red dress. She grabs several bobby pins from a nearby dresser and begins to twist her hair into a loose updo, leaving a few stray curls to trickle over her face. She's almost finished when Regina walks into the room. The sweet smell of the older woman's perfume fills her nostrils. The brunette moves over to the dresser and opens her jewelry box, grabbing a pair of pearl earrings. Emma watches the older woman's reflection in the mirror and smiles. She is dressed in a dark red dress as well, but with a different cut, having been chosen from the brunette's personal collection rather than tailored.

It was a last minute decision to add Regina to the wedding party. Emma had seen the hurt on the former mayor's face when she'd had been asked to be a bridesmaid at Ruby's nuptials, while Regina hadn't even been invited to the reception. Although the curse has been lifted for over a year, the sentiments toward the older woman are still far from welcoming; but the town loves Emma, and Emma loves Regina, and so, with a little bit of convincing on the Sheriff's part, Ruby agreed to allow the two of them to attend together as her bridesmaids.

Emma pretends to keep fixing her hair in the mirror, but she's really just watching Regina. She admires the way the silk material of the dress hugs the small curve of the brunette's hips and the rounded flesh of her behind. Emma feels her neck and cheeks flush and a warmth bubble in her stomach. It amazes her how Regina still affects her, even after all these months. She smiles warmly when the older woman turns and saunters over to the mirror, snapping the backings of her earrings into place as she does so. Emma shivers when she catches Regina eyeing her up and down, her gaze following the long zipper that trails down the back of the dark red gown. Their eyes meet in the mirror and the younger woman smiles sheepishly; the brunette, in turn, looks as regal as ever.

Regina rests her hand on the small of the blonde's back in a surprisingly intimate gesture. Their eyes are locked in the reflection of the glass, and Emma can see an uncharacteristic softness that shimmers in brown irises. Regina's not good with words, Emma has known that since the beginning, but when the blonde looks into those beautiful dark eyes, it's like her own portal into the older woman's soul. She sees all the sadness, all the love, all the fears and triumphs.

"You look nice," Emma says, leaning back a little bit into the brunette's touch.

Regina's eyes tear away from their gaze in the mirror, flicking down to the beige carpet. Emma watches a light shade of pink color the former mayor's cheeks and she can't help but smile.

The older woman clears her throat before catching the younger woman's reflection in the glass. "You too, dear." It's the closest thing to a compliment Emma will ever hear from the former mayor. She smiles.

Regina rubs the blonde's back for a moment and stares into emerald eyes. She chews at the inside of her cheek and takes a deep breath as though she's about to speak, but says nothing. She doesn't have to. Emma understands.

"We should go," Regina finally says, breaking the silence. Emma nods and steps over to the walk in closet – their closet – and grabs a small shawl, then picks up her clutch off the dresser. She leaves the room, carefully descending the stairs – she's not used to heels – and walks over to the front door. Opening it, she waits on the first step, her hip resting on the doorframe. Her mind wanders at the sight of the small staircase at the front of the house. She's never really pictured herself as someone who would fall into the whole domesticity thing, but there's a particular ache in her chest when she thinks of how Ruby will be carried over the threshold of her new home tonight. Emma stares down at her hand, at her bare left ring finger, and sighs.

"Ready?" Regina's voice startles Emma out of her daydream and she jumps a little.

"Mhm," she replies, watching as the brunette locks the door before walking down the stairs toward her Mercedes. She soon follows.

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The ceremony is truly what fairytales are made of. Ruby looks amazing in a long, white silken gown and Peter is the epitome of handsome in a black tux and white shirt. Dark red roses decorate the small chapel; the bridesmaids each hold a small bouquet as well, while the groomsmen have a single flower pinned to their lapels.

The minister initiates the vows, and the couple promises themselves to each other. Ruby speaks of her past and how, regardless of what she has done, Peter has always seen past the proverbial beast and seen a beauty. Ruby's words ring true to Emma, and she turns her head slightly toward Regina, who is standing behind her at the end of the line of bridesmaids. There's a clearly fake smile plastered on the older woman's face, only there for formality's sake. Brown eyes shimmer with tears; everyone around them thinks they're from happiness, but Emma knows differently. Regina's thinking of the circumstances of her own marriage.

Emma bunches the bouquet of flowers in her right hand and reaches her left behind her, brushing her fingertips over Regina's. She smiles to herself when she feels the older woman tangle their fingers together and squeeze gently.

The minister pronounces the couple man and wife and the crowd bursts into cheers and applause. All gaze lovingly at the couple with huge smiles on their faces. Emma laughs with joy and excitement, but there's a pang of jealousy stabbing in her chest that she simply can't shake.

"The Wedding March" blares from the piano tucked in the corner of the chapel, and the newlyweds walk hand in hand out of the building. The wedding party begins to exit one by one, first the groomsmen and then the bridesmaids. Belle leads as the maid of honor, followed by Mary Margaret and Ashley, then Emma, and finally Regina. They exit the chapel and make their way to their respective cars and drive to the party hall for the wedding celebration.

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The festivities are loud, crazy, and, simply put, Ruby style. As soon as the formal dinner service ends, the ties are loosened and the fun begins.

"Come dance with me!" Ruby yells to Emma over the music. It's a fast upbeat song, and Peter is busy grabbing a drink at the open bar with his best man, and so Ruby looks to Emma for a dance partner.

The blonde turns her head toward Regina, who is sitting alone at one of the circular dining tables. "I can't right now," Emma shouts, pointing politely as possible toward the former Mayor. "Maybe later?"

Ruby nods and scurries over to where Ashley and Mary Margaret are huddled in a corner, talking and giggling with one another.

Emma walks over to Regina and sits next to her. The older woman's gaze is cast downward, analyzing her wine with deep concentration. She swishes the drink in little circles and Emma can see that her hands are trembling. The blonde outstretches an arm and rests her hand on Regina's back, rubbing in tiny circles. "You ok?" she asks, and when the brunette looks up from her glass, there's a deep sadness resonating in dark brown eyes.

The older woman licks her lower lip and opens her mouth to speak, but is interrupted when Ruby's voice blasts through the intercom of the party hall. "Ladiessssss," she begins, "It's time for the catching of the bouquet!"

Emma smiles and takes Regina's hand in hers, pulling them both to a stand. "Come on."

Regina shakes her head. "I don't think so."

"You're doing it. Now come on." The younger woman practically drags the brunette onto the dance floor where the bouquet will be thrown. Emma stands in the middle of the crowd while Regina stays put toward the back. The excitement and tension in the air is overwhelming as Ruby makes her way onto the floor and turns her back to the group of buzzing women. They count to three in unison – save for Regina – and, on the crowd's count, Ruby tosses the flowers over her shoulder. The women screech and squeal as they jump and claw toward the bouquet, but the red head and her wolf like strength send it flying completely over the group's heads to the very back of the dance floor. Emma turns on her heels to see who's about to catch it. "Regina!" she shouts, a giddy grin spread across her face, "catch it!"

Instinctively, the brunette extends her arms and opens her hands. The large bouquet of deep red roses falls perfectly into them, as if it was meant for her and only her. She stares down at the flowers with her mouth agape, completely dumbfounded.

Emma rushes over to her and claps excitedly. "You did it!" she exclaims, resting one palm on the older woman's shoulder. She laughs to herself when Regina continues to stand there in shock and disbelief. "Looks like you're gonna have to marry me now," Emma says playfully. Regina, in turn, tears her gaze away from the bouquet to look into green orbs.

The realization of what she's said causes Emma's heart to flutter madly in her chest. She didn't exactly expect this to be the circumstance where she mentions marriage, but, goddamn it, with a few drinks in her system and an audience around them so that Regina can't kill her, it feels good. It feels great, actually.

Regina doesn't respond; she simply stares forward at the blonde with those piercing brown eyes. There's no anger there, she's just studying her as though it's the first time she's truly seen the younger woman.

Emma shifts uncomfortably under the brunette's gaze. 'Something, just say something,' she thinks to herself. The silence is excruciating. Finally, she takes a step to the side. "I'm gonna go get a drink," Emma informs, squeezing Regina's forearm slightly. "Do you want anything?"

Regina shakes her head and turns on her heels, walking back over to their dining table.

"Well, fuck," Emma mumbles under her breath, running her fingers through her long blonde curls.

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The drive home is awkward. Regina still hasn't said anything about Emma's marriage comment, and Emma worries that she's expressed deep sentiments that aren't exactly mutual. She taps nervously on the steering wheel, chancing a glance over at the brunette every so often.

Regina's staring down at the bouquet of roses, ghosting her fingertips over the deep red petals. Her lips are curled up in a tiny smile and she seems lost in thought, in memory. There's an innocence in her features that makes Emma's heart flutter.

The blonde catches Regina playing with the tiny ruby and diamond studded band that sits on her right ring finger. She's always worn it, even in leisure, but Emma's never asked its significance.

They arrive home and walk into the mansion in silence, Regina ascending the stairs toward their bedroom while Emma walks to the kitchen to grab a drink. The tension is killing her. She wishes Regina would just say something.

She downs a glass of cider before making her way upstairs. A warm, steamy cloud washes over Emma as she walks into the bedroom, Regina having left the bathroom door cracked as she showers. The room is dark save for the trickle of light from the crack in the door. The blonde walks over to their closet and undresses, sighing contentedly when the tight material pools around her ankles. She kicks the dress to the side and moves back to the bedroom toward their shared dresser. Emma fumbles through their clothes for a moment, retrieving a black tank and matching sleep shorts. Yawning, she pulls the pajamas on and shuffles over to the bed. She clicks the lamp at the bedside table on and the room is immediately washed in a fluorescent yellow glow. The deep purple comforter on their bed comes into focus and Emma notices there's something resting on her side of the bed. Her heart leaps in her throat at the sight before her.

A single rose from the wedding bouquet lies before her, but that's not what makes Emma's heart flutter. Wrapped around the dark green stem of the flower is a ring – Regina's ring. The rubies and diamonds twinkle beneath the soft glow of the lamp.

Emma reaches forward with a shaky hand and grasps the flower and the ring. It's then that she notices a folded piece of paper lying on the bed. Carefully, she places the two items on her pillow and takes the note in her hand. In Regina's perfect script, a single sentence:

You're right, I suppose I'll have to marry you.