A/N - This is the first chapter in my rewrite of 'In Any Other World'. I hope you enjoy what I consider to be much improved prose.

Twittering bluebirds fill the air outside Princess Emma's room. After last night's ball she is too tired to be thinking about getting up at her usual hour. But Emma knew from how the sun lies across the floor that her maid will be knocking soon. The dancing had gone on into the early hours as Snow White continued her mission to find her only daughter a husband. Eligible Princes, Dukes and Lords from the realms line up to take their chance to dance with her but while she entertained them long into the night no proposal was agreed. Snow White would not be pleased.

Emma lay looking at the ceiling, a fresco depicting the rescue of Briar Rose and a story of True Love, while she waited for the inevitable knock at the door. A finger rubbed the golden band on the finger normally reserved for wedding rings. The dream of her own True Love was falling though her fingers like sand.

The maid eventually knocked after Emma had slipped into a light sleep. Her mother had decreed a late breakfast but Emma had good reason to suspect an ulterior motive. Emma donned one of her lighter dresses, white and lavender with large billowing sleeves, with her waist length hair loose as it was one of her mother favoured looks for her.

Guards opened the doors for her, bowing as she passed them into a long dining room. Emma curtsied to her mother before taking a seat held out by a footman at the other end of the table. She studied the pale face of her mother. Snow White's lips were pressed in thin line as she studied her thirty-year-old daughter. Emma looked away from her mother's disapproving glare to fill her plate with the fare on offer.

'I will no longer tolerate your hesitation to marry, Emma,' Snow White said as Emma nibbled on a piece of buttered bread. 'You are well beyond an age to be wed.'

Emma glanced up from her chewing. The long waging battle between them has been going on for years pushing more distance between mother and daughter. 'But they are all frightful bores, Mama, interested only in our riches and not me.'

'I spoke with them last night, many were charming and endearing, Emma,' she replied with a tone of exasperation.

'Only because by winning my hand they gain your wealth, Mama,' Emma pointed it out as she took a handful of berries. 'I want to marry for love, like you and Papa did.'

Snow leant back in the high backed cushioned chair, her fingers tapping against the carved wooden arms, her expression emanating cold displeasure. 'And I have tried to give you that, Emma. But no one is ever good enough.'

'No Prince who walked the court of your father was good enough for you,' Emma pointed out, alluding to her father's actual heritage over that given to him by a greedy king and conniving elf.

Snow White got to her feet and planted her hands on the table. 'If you do not pick for yourself, then I will pick for you,' she declared before exiting the room through the doors that would take her to her private quarters.

Emma sat, running her hands through her golden tresses until a lock of hair caught in the blue diamond set in the ring she wore. She untangled her hair from it and looked down at the ornament on her hand. She felt a pang of sadness. She wondered if her mother would be so hard if her father were still here with them. When she had been young, Snow White often spoke of the fearless Prince James, but as she grew, as the years since his death grew, Snow spoke of him less and less.

No longer hungry, the Princess got to her feet, exiting the room through the door she had arrived by.

-/-

As she got older, Emma of Misthaven rooms in the palace grew from a single nursery to occupying the entire West Tower. She called it The Ivory Tower, and much to her mother's chagrin, the name stuck. After the conversation with her mother, Emma shut herself away, bolting the door closed so she could not be disturbed. She treated to the highest room where a balcony overlooked the wide expansive sea.

From here, the sounds of the Palace were lost and she was able to stand in peace. She kept her eyes on the horizon, the subtle shift in colour from where sky kissed the sea, felt calming. Beyond it were distant Realms that she could only dream of seeing. There were towns across the bay she could only dream of seeing. Emma sighed, leaning into breeze coming from the sea, the salty air catching the soft locks of her hair and the tips of her sleeves. Her eyes skimmed along the horizon to the forest covered hills.

She remained in solitude until the sun was close to touching the horizon. A distant bell alerted Emma to the end of the working day thus Supper would be served. While she had not taken any news all day, she was in no doubt as to what her mother had spent her day doing; selling her to the highest bidder for the good of the Kingdom.

'You need a husband,' Snow White told her daughter over dinner as the younger woman sipped wine. 'I will not be for this world much longer.'

The Queen's appearance of that of a much younger woman belied her age by a great degree. There was much discussion as to how she had maintained her youthful appearance. Emma swore it was a potion, but then she would glimpse her mother looking at herself in the mirror, pressing her cheek with a confused expression in her hazel eyes.

Emma stabbed unenthusiastically at the meat on her plate. 'What would you have me do?'

'Spend time with them, see who suits you best,' replied Snow White. 'Please, Emma, for me.'

While Emma had no desire to submit to her mother's wishes, she could not bear to see the look of sadness in her eyes. She rose before dawn, just as the first light of day began peeking over hills in the east. She wasn't one for omens but the orangey-red light made it seems as if the sky was on fire, Emma leant on the railings gazing as purple clouds formed. Going out for a ride suddenly didn't seem like a good idea.

She had arranged to go riding with Prince Apollo after the conversation with her mother. After leaving her, Emma had gone for a walk in the gardens and found the young man with his nose in a book. His face had lit up from the attention.

Now he was astride a horse, he seemed impossibly young but Snow had commended her choice calling him an intelligent thoughtful young man. Emma cocked her head to the side as she took in the high cheek bones of the southern Royals with his deep hazel eyes and matching hair. She sighed as her horse was brought from the stables. The chestnut mare, Bo, tossed her head, mane whipping the page who led her to Emma. She walked to the animal, taking the reins then stroked the beasts nose, smiling when the animal snickered.

'She's a feisty one,' Apollo commented as Emma moved to the side of the horse so she could mount it. 'Almost wild.'

Emma mounted pulling her cloak over so it draped over the hind quarters, then adjusted her hair so it was over her shoulders. Apollo smiled, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

'Are you ready my lady?'

Emma nodded, urging her horse to move.

-/-

Apollo had insisted they travel without a retinue. Snow rarely allowed her daughter to travel without at least a small honour guard, but the young prince promised he could protect her. They walked at a snail's pace with Bo flicking her head in frustration. Emma rarely took Bo out when she couldn't truly exercise her. At the thought, she smiled, and glanced at her companion. Thus far the journey had been pleasant, but not enthralling. It was difficult to be excited about someone upon learning she was just the most recent Princess in a long line his father sent him to meet. It was normal of course, but it just put her a step away from what she wanted.

'Of course,' he said, 'it does have the benefit travelling to distant lands.'

Emma glanced at him. 'How about a race?' she asked. 'Bo is feeling feisty.'

Apollo looked at his horse. Emma had been surprised to note that the animal was a gelding when most men she knew proudly strutted upon a stallion.

'Come, it will only be until to the fallen oak,' she said, adjusting in the saddle so she could race. 'It's just over that rise.'

The Prince smiled. 'Of course, my Lady,' he said.

The journey took a little longer than she implied. Bo galloped along the smooth road kicking up dust as she went. Emma chuckled as she stood in the stirrups and urged Bo to move faster. This freedom would not last long. Once they reached the fallen oak, Apollo would be with her and their journey back to the palace would begin. Still, exhilaration thrummed through her body as the powerful creature beneath her got faster and faster. Emma glanced behind her but her Prince was nowhere to be seen. She urged Bo on.

As she reached the fallen oak, she pulled Bo to a halt. It took her a few strides before she walked again and the mare shakes her head letting her mane fly. Emma smiled as the thick strands hit her face.

'Hey, Bo,' she cooed, pulling on the reins. 'Hey.'

She jumped off the mare. With her feet on the ground, she pulled Bo's face around to stroke her nose, cooing softly as she glanced along the path back to the fallen oak. It was out of sight, but Bo jumped over the fallen tree without Emma's prompting.

Bo panted beneath her, so Emma dismounted. She pulled Bo by her reins in the direction of the stream running parallel to the oak. Her legs were sore from the exercise, protesting as she climbed the small ditch up to the stream. The horse dipped her head to the stream while Emma looked back in the direction they had come looking for any sign of Apollo. He couldn't be that far behind, could he?

Emma shook her head in exasperation. She gathered the skirts of her riding dress as she trod over the slightly mudded ground back to the road. They were actually quiet deep in the forest, with all the natural light filtered through the trees, and there was not much to see beyond hundreds of trunks towering above her. There was no way to see the castle from here, but it was like she'd get lost. Even she had travelled this road before.

She placed a gloved hand against a mossy trunk to steady herself on the slippery earth. The sound of hooves, several horses worth, echoed from the direction she had been travelling towards. She stepped back so she was concealed. They came to a halt not far from where she had left the road. They weren't the most savoury looking crowd either. Emma crouched to make herself even smaller as their apparent leader dismounted his horse.

Lean but big in the muscled sense, wearing a red coat held together with an ornate brass buckles, he looks around with his hand resting on a hilt. She's seen wanted posters of this man adorning the port walls near the castle. They call him Black Beard. Not the original of course. Several someone else's have picked up the moniker in the last thirty years. Like all pirates, they keep their legends alive, the fear alive, by clinging to the names of frightful captains; Long John Silver, Captain Hook and Calico Jack to name a few.

Emma turned as quietly as she could, once again lifting her skirts so the fabric didn't rustle the leaves and twigs. But her movement has caught their attention.

'What do we have here?' Black Beard crowed as Emma made a dash for the river. Back to Bo.

She ran as fast as her aching legs would carry her, but at the water's edge, Bo was nowhere to be seen. Hoof prints indicated she had gone north. Emma sighed spinning in the direction the marauding pirates now came from. She looked on the ground for some sort of weapon. Although she had a dagger stashed in her boot, she didn't want to resort to using that until there was no choice. She settled for a long, relatively heavy looking branch.

Her Royal Highness might not be able to stop them from taking her, but she wouldn't make it easy.