Emma Swan was strong. She never broke, no matter what life threw at her, no matter how many times she was let down in her life. Sure, when things got rough, she felt it, the anger and deep-rooted sadness that her life turned out the way it had, but she never once let it consume her. No matter how many families had decided she just wasn't 'the right fit' (an even 10, to be precise,) she'd kept up hope that one day, some day, she would find her family. Of course, when she thought she finally found it with the Swans, they were killed in a random carriage accident. She was promptly thrown out of the first house she'd ever really called home. On that day, she knew that kind of happiness just wasn't in the books for her. (She would never admit this, even to herself, but she still found herself hoping and searching for a place to call home.) In house eighteen, she'd met him. Baelfire. He too was looking for a family, and as they fell in love, they decided that each could be all the family the other needed, and ran off to start a life together. They even married at seventeen, and they became all the family the other needed. However, when she found herself with child, Baelfire couldn't take on the responsibility, and left her and her unborn child to beg for food and shelter on the streets.
Eventually she was taken in by a grouchy but sweet old woman who would only ever respond to 'Granny'. She had thrown herself into all the work she could find helping Granny maintain her farm, at least until Granny confined her to bed rest so she would have her child as safely as she could. She birthed a beautiful baby boy, who she named after the only man she'd ever really considered her father, James Swan. Her happiness was dampened when Granny fell sick soon after her son's first birthday. Thankfully she died in her sleep, peacefully and quietly with Emma and James at her bedside. However, this left the Swan family on the streets once more as Emma stole just to keep food in James' belly. She got desperate during the winter, stealing from houses as well as people on the street, but eventually she made a mistake, and tried to rob the richest family in the town (who she thought were at their winter home in the south), but was caught by the youngest daughter, Regina Mills. Regina let her stay, and eat their left-over dinner, though she claimed it was only because she took pity on the child, who she dubbed Henry. (Emma quickly decided that Henry fit her little boy far better than James did, and never bothered to tell Regina his first name.)
Regina, who was alone in the large Mills manor (having sent all the staff back to their families until her commanding mother returned) decided to hire Emma, but once more, only for Henry's sake. Emma worked hard in the last of the winter months, making herself useful any way she could, though she never truly befriended Regina. During her first week under the Mills' employ, she lost track of Henry who'd begun to crawl and waddle off silently, and found him in Regina's quarters, the two of them playing together until she stepped on a creaking board. Regina had straightened immediately, putting on a cold and detached mask almost instantaneously. They had decided that while Emma worked, Regina would watch over Henry, Regina almost becoming Henry's second mother. That is, until the rest of the Mills family returned from their holiday and the matriarch fired Emma upon sight. Regina had come to her defense, stating that Emma could do the work of three servants, and they could fire two chambermaids instead and save money. What Regina hadn't revealed however, was that the two servants in question had found better positions elsewhere, having quit over a fortnight ago. Emma, of course, already knew this, having eavesdropped on Regina's conversation with the women. When Cora and Zelena, the other two members of the Mills family, saw three-year-old Henry, they immediately decided that the 21 year-old woman was worse than the mud that dirtied their petticoats. Emma knew that with Henry by her side and no husband or even ring in sight, she was considered little more than the women selling themselves down by the docks. Yet she still couldn't help it when she lowered her head every time they glanced at her with that look in their eyes.
Across the next seven years under two-thirds of the Mills' disparaging glares, she learnt to hold their gazes a little longer each time. Her relationship with Regina was strained, as the older woman would often take part in friendly arguments with her, but whenever Cora or Zelena entered the room, she immediately closed up. Emma understood of course, having listened at enough keyholes to learn exactly how Cora mothered her children. However, it kept them from being any more than friendly aquaintances, just as Regina was with the rest of the staff, but she also knew that they had something Regina didn't have with any of the other maids. They had Henry.
Tonight, on Henry's tenth birthday, Emma realized that she would never be able to give him all the material things that Regina could, though she tried her hardest, as she watched them reading a history book together. But she didn't mind too much, because she knew he loved her, as he knew she loved him. And when she would give him a gift, he treasured it all the more for the rarity of the event. She smiled at him when he looked up, and walked out into the cool night air. She leaned on the short wall that surrounded the property, looking at the gleaming castle in the distance. Emma had promised to never lie to herself, so she knew that it would be foolish to hope to even set foot in the palace, but she could remember when she was younger, wishing she could be a princess and live in a fancy house with a king and queen to love her, and friends everywhere. Henry's birthday was always somewhat bittersweet for Emma, as she reminisced on all the new memories they'd built in the last year, but also reminiscing on her time with Baelfire. While she loved Henry with all her heart, a part of her wished that Baelfire had stayed, and Henry would have a father, just like she'd imagined for herself. Emma couldn't help but smile a bit when she recognized the ache in her heart that Baelfire had torn, but just as with every year before this, the ache had lessened, and she felt a little lighter when she returned to the quiet party deep within the servants' quarters as it had been every year before.
The next morning, Emma was washing the floor in the main hall when there was a loud, but quick, knock at the great oak doors. She opened the door and saw some kid in royal servants' attire, holding an envelope out to her with his nose in the air. Emma sighed, and leaned against the door frame.
"What's up, kid?" The kid looked startled, as if it never occurred to him she might have a voice.
"Good morn to you, my…" The kid flourished a bow, scanning her wet dress, clearly trying to find an appropriate substitute for 'lady'. "My good woman. I have been tasked by the King himself, to…" Emma tried, she really did, but she couldn't help but zone out the second he smirked at her, as if the fact that he had to obey someone the rest of society had decided was better than him was some great honor. She blinked when the envelope was shoved into her face. She scowled at the kid and he glared right back, clearly pissed that she wasn't paying attention.
"Alright, I got it. Important message from the king, super important, to be delivered immediately." She snatched the envelope from his grip and turned away, shutting the door with her foot as she looked over the fancy script flowing across the paper... It looked, nice, she supposed, but with her inability to read, she couldn't bring herself to care. She leisurely crossed the slippery hallway to the 'Grand Parlor' as Cora called it. She knocked. She knocked again. Faintly, she could hear music being played within, sounding nice, if it weren't for the screeching voice of Zelena singing over it. So she just walked in.
"You! Why in the realm would you show such impertinence by entering this room without express permission?" Emma rolled her eyes at Cora's annoyance. The books would need to be dusted again, she noted, as she looked around the room. If only Cora or Zelena would read one of the dozens of books they possessed! Regina read often enough, when she wasn't spending time with Henry or being lectured by Cora, but the books still laid mostly untouched.
"Sorry, I mean, I guess I could come back later, it's just, that messenger from the palace said this was very important. Sorry I interrupted." Emma shrugged and went to open the door, slowly counting from three to zero in her head.
"Wait!" There it is, she thought, smirking. Of course, when she was facing the Mills, she was perfectly blank as she stared at Cora.
"Yes, Miss Cora?" Smack! Damn, but she's got good reflexes, Emma thought. She rubbed her smarting cheek and looked back at Cora. "Apologies, did I do something wrong Miss Cora?" Emma fought hard to keep a smile off her face as she looked straight at the cloud of fury engulfing Cora. Emma knew that the servants were to never say anything to Cora but 'Mistress Mills', the badly hidden anger she possessed for not being a noblewoman forcing itself to the top of her conscious.
"I barely tolerate your presence here now, do not push me beggar-girl. The envelope, now." Emma smiled beatifically as she handed Cora the envelope, as she left the room, she winked at horrified, yet, clearly quite amused Regina as she sat, speechless at the piano. Emma earned a small smile in return. She closed the door behind her, but immediately crouched beside the keyhole to hear what the letter said.
"The girl wasn't lying, it has the king's seal Mother!"
"Oh do be quiet Zelena and let me open it!" There was a rustling of parchment before Cora let out a gasp. "It's an announcement for a festival to…to find the Crown Prince a wife! My darling, darling girls, this is it! This is what we have been waiting for! If one of you can win the Prince's heart, we can finally be royalty, just, as we've always dreamed." Emma scoffed quietly, rising from her uncomfortable position. She already knew what Regina's reaction would be to her mother's aspirations. Regina was in love with one of the friends Emma made when she was thieving to survive. Zelena, however, would be thrilled at the chance to be Queen. Emma walked back up the servants' staircase to her room where Henry was sleeping. When she opened the door to her room, Henry was sitting in the rocking chair beside their bed reading one of the books Regina had given him as she taught him how to read. Henry loved to read anything and everything, a trait Emma sadly couldn't share with him.
"Hey kid, how's the story?"
"It's really good mom, want to hear some?" She nodded and laid down on the edge of their bed, closing her eyes as Henry began to read one of the stories to her. "This one's called 'Cinderella' and it's about this girl who lives with her evil stepmother and stepsisters. There's this ball that's happening and Cinderella really wants to go, right now it's about to get good, Cinderella just met her fairy godmother. 'Cinderella was confused. She watched as the smiling woman picked up her mice friends Gus and Billy and as smoke engulfed them, she saw hooves sprouting from their paws, their tails lengthening and growing hairs until two pure white stallions stood before her. Her fairy godmother chuckled at Cinderella's awestruck expression, and waved her wand over the pumpkin patch, and the largest pumpkin in the garden hopped over to where they stood, but when it stopped more smoke covered it until it swelled into a crystalline carriage. "And now, my dear, for you!" Cinderella looked down at the rags that had once been her mother's dress. "Let's see, how about… blue!" Her fairy godmother twirled her around and smoke bloomed and swirled around her legs and circling up her whole body. When it dispersed, Cinderella was standing in a beautiful sky blue ballgown made of the finest material Cinderella had ever felt in her life, and when she poked a foot out from beneath the folds to find it housed in a gorgeous glass slipper.'"
"Sorry, kid, but I've gotta stop you there. Glass shoes? That sounds way too uncomfortable for going to a ball." Henry smiled at Emma's disbelief. He closed the book and put it on the bed beside her, leaning forward and holding her hand, mocking a serious expression.
"Mom, it's just a story, it's not supposed to be realistic!"
"Yeah, yeah I know, kid. Still, I don't think I would be up for dancing in shoes like that!" He joined her on their bed as they laughed together. For a twenty-eight year old woman who'd been working since dawn Emma was still quick enough to flip them around so that she could have a better angle on Henry. She wiggled her fingers on his sides until he was crying from his laughter.
"Emma, it's mother, she-" Regina burst through the door, but stopped when she saw Emma holding Henry above herself, tickling him mercilessly. "Put him down a moment please, and listen to me?" Emma sighed and let Henry skitter away, still giggling. "Emma, mother wants me to go to this festival and try to-to seduce the Prince! What am I going to tell Robin?" Regina paced across her small room, hands grabbing at her hair, eyes glaring at the floor. Emma got up from her bed and grabbed the slightly older woman's shoulders to stop her movement.
"Regina, first you've got to calm down. It's going to be fine. Just go to the festival and avoid your mother as much as you can. You know, the first night is even a masquerade, you and Robin could meet up there and spend time together, out in the open. Then at the end of the festival, you just tell your mother that you couldn't get near the guy with all the other desperate girls around. It really is that simple." Regina sighed.
"You're right. I shouldn't overthink this." Regina smiled at her and walked out of Emma's room, closing the door softly behind her. Emma sighed and flopped on her bed, wincing at the hard wood beneath her small mattress, and before she knew it, she was asleep.
"Girl! Get down here, now!" Emma jumped awake at the sound of Cora's voice. As she looked out her window she realized she had fallen asleep. She shot up and hurriedly fumbled around her small room changing out of her wrinkled clothes haphazardly. She ran down the steps only realizing she was barefoot when she stubbed her toe on a corner. When she turned to go get some shoes she realized there wasn't enough time and continued on her path to Cora's chambers.
"Hey, sorry about the delay Mistress Mills, what can I do for you?" Emma arrived out of breath and leaned against the wall to support her sleep-heavy body.
"There is soon to be a festival at the palace and the girls need new gowns. Remember, none of that simple stuff Regina likes. A nice regal purple should do." Cora paused. "Well? What are you still doing here? Go!" She left it unspoken that she would also get new frocks, likely hoping Emma wouldn't order her any, giving her an actual reason to whip her. Emma rolled her eyes and returned to her room, slipping on a brown pair of breeches and white blouse. She strapped on her belt, scabbard, and sword around her waist, just in case she encountered any unsavory characters on her ride into town. She found Henry in the middle of a lesson with Regina and explained she had to go into town before racing out to the stables, saddling Rociante, Regina's prized stallion, once she mounted, she realized once again she wasn't wearing shoes. She just shrugged and urged Rociante into a gallop, feet only half in the stirrups. They raced down the road into town, Emma leaning forward onto Rociante's neck to increase their speed. The wind rushed through her hair, pulling it out of the sloppy braid she'd put it in the night before, whipping across her face causing a wide grin to spread across her cheeks. As they entered the town's gate Emma slowed the powerful horse to a slow walk until they reached the dressmaker's shop. She tied him to a hitching post nearby and entered the building.
"...Hello? Anybody in?" She walked through the deserted shop, trailing her fingers along the wall of sample fabrics, eyeing the ballgowns lined up all around the room. Some were simpler, others so covered in frills and lace Emma could barely see the dress underneath.
"Hey, Emma! What brings you in here? Orders for the upcoming festival? We've gotten so many I don't see how we'll be able to keep up!" Emma jumped when Ruby, co-owner of the business along with her partner Dorothy, popped up by her shoulder.
"Hi Ruby. Yeah, I'm gonna need fifteen dresses, three per festival day. You still have all the Mills' measurements, right?" After Ruby thought about it and finally nodded, Emma continued. "Zelena's going to need some greens and separately, some scarlet. I assume she'll want them a bit risque, but Regina needs blues and light purple on her gowns and more skin coverage." Emma paused, thinking of Regina and Robin Hood, her secret beau, smiling at the idea of surprising them both with a more seductive dress. "Actually, make two of her five the same style as Zelena's, just not too much, y'know? Then just the regular style and colors for Cora, but a bit fancier."
"Sounds good, should I put those orders closer to the top of the pile?" Ruby winked conspiratorially.
"No, thanks. Or actually, can you get them done as soon as you can, but only deliver them the day before the festival begins? That way they're stuck with them." Since Emma began working for the Mills family she and Ruby had become friends, commiserating about two thirds of the bossy women and their demands. As Emma was leaving the town she decided to take a detour towards the palace, curious about the two reclusive princes in residence,wondering if she might be able to catch a glimpse of them. She rode through the forest leisurely, her curiosity about the royal family dimming as the morning wore into the afternoon and she realized she couldn't care less. That is, until she met one of them.
Killian raised his spear, poised to throw and put an end to his quick hunt. He released it, but the stag leaped away and a horse reared at the long wooden spear suddenly embedded into the tree in front of it.
"Shit!" He heard a voice yell out as something thumped onto the ground. He ran to the voice, stopping when his eyes met two furious hazel ones. "Hey, you! Did you throw that stick at me?" The woman stepped closer to him, blonde hair flying out behind her from the breeze. She had her hands on her hips and was limping slightly.
"Well, yes, but I actually was aiming for the stag that had been there before you came along." Killian rubbed behind his ear with his good hand, a nervous habit he'd never been able to shake. He looked over the woman again, only then noticing that she was wearing breeches. She was also...barefoot. "Sorry love, but you do know that you haven't got any shoes on yes?" Somehow, though it had seemed impossible, her glare hardened further at his words.
"Really! Actually, no, I hadn't noticed I was barefoot in the middle of a forest. The sharp pine needles and sticks poking my feet weren't a dead give-away! Thank you, so much for telling me this vital piece of information in regards to my apparel. That's really helpful of you!" The blonde rolled her eyes as she spoke, sarcasm dripping from every word.
"Love, I'm just trying to help, I mean you no harm."
"Oh yeah, you made that super clear when you threw your pointy stick at my head, love!" The blonde looked around them and swore again. "And now my horse is gone. Today is going just great for me. Thanks, random stick-throwing guy." Killian was puzzled. Amused, yet puzzled. No one had ever dared speak to a prince in such an indignant manner.
"I'm trying to tell you love, I was aiming for the stag you scared off. Besides, seeing as this is my family's property, I feel it should be I who is so outraged." The blonde froze, blinked, and raised her eyebrows.
"You're one of the princes? Seriously?" Killian waited for her to tell him why it was so surprising that he was the prince. "But, you look so...normal!" He looked down at himself and could see what she meant, seeing as he was wearing a higher-quality version of her outfit, though he wore a pair of black boots over his breeches. He smiled at that and the blonde's bold words and blatant disrespect for his family.
"And if I am? What does that have to do with our situation?"
"Our situation? There is no our in this. This 'situation' is that you tried to skewer me and now my horse - and it's not even really my horse it's my" she paused suspiciously "stepsister's horse - is gone and I won't be able to get home before it gets dark." Killian then realized that this woman was likely miles away from her home and even with proper shoes it would take over an hour before she would reach it, considering she'd been on horseback, and it was almost sunset.
"Then I'll just have to take you home myself. Come on, mount up."
"No! I'm not going to hitch a ride from a random stranger who threw a stick at me!"
"Bloody hell lass it was a spear, and it's not like someone more trustworthy is magically going to appear! Get on my damned horse so we can be done with this!" The blonde huffed in defeat and leaped into the saddle behind him.
"Take me a couple miles up the road and we're good." Killian nudged his mare forwards, wondering at the blonde's pride that wouldn't allow him to bring her all the way back to her house. The woman behind him continued to be a surprise, not even holding on to him as his horse broke into a gallop, keeping her seat even without stirrups to keep her in the saddle. They reached the main road quickly, turning north and continuing on for about three miles when she reached around him to stop the horse.
"This is where you leave me. Thanks for the the ride Your Wonderful, Generous Highness." The blonde dismounted with practiced ease and began walking towards what Killian could only assume was her home. He watched her for a few minutes, but once it was clear she was done with him he turned his horse around and rode back towards the palace.