Author's Notes: So, once upon a time (ha, punny) I wrote a fic called daughters will love like you do. And it's quite possibly my favorite thing I've ever written. And while I was on the downward emotional spiral of writing that fic, I was talking to fictorium about how James would've been such a good dad if he'd gotten the opportunity. And we decided he would've been a dad like Eric Taylor from Friday Night Lights (which, if you haven't watched that show yet, go buy the DVDs and watch it right now. you will thank me.) and so we started calling this idea Fairy Taylors. And while I was writing daughters, I kept thinking about possibly my favorite image from the entirety of Friday Night Lights. And I wanted to work it in some how, but it just wouldn't fit with that fic. But the image just kept coming back to me and an idea slowly started to form and then, finally, this fic came about.
I was seriously petrified to even try and write this fic, because I loved daughters so much and didn't want to ruin it. But fictorium and the-charmings were both amazing and held my hand the whole way through and swore that I wasn't ruining it - so if I did, blame them - and betaed for me and I cannot thank them enough for that. Without them this wouldn't be here.
And now, I will just tell you that the title, as well as the lyric snippet at the beginning of this fic are taken from the song I Loved Her First by Heartland, which gave me all kinds of feels while writing this (also, My Little Girl by Tim McGraw) and I'll finally get to the fic.
I loved her first, I held her first
And a place in my heart will always be hers
From the first breath she breathed
When she first smiled at me
I knew the love of a father runs deep
And I prayed that she'd find you someday
But it's still hard to give her away
I loved her first
James knows the question is coming before she ever asks it.
He has known, has been waiting really, ever since she first woke with a gasp that had been so much like her mother's it had brought tears to his eyes.
"Daddy," she calls him for the first time since those awful, wonderful, perfect moments before he almost lost her when he finally got to hear the words he'd always wanted from her, "will you give me away?"
And although his first instinct is to shout no and lock her up in the tallest tower, safe and away from Regina and anyone else who would ever try to take her away from him or do her harm again, he squashes it. He cannot be that father, will not be that father. He promised himself that if he ever got her back, he would give her everything she'd ever dreamed of. And this, he knows, is all he has left to give her.
"Of course I will."
There's still so much to deal with, so many decisions to be made and permissions to be given – this is Emma's way of giving him a heads up, he knows, because Regina hasn't officially asked him for Emma's hand yet – but when he watches the smile blossom across her face, he knows that there could be no other answer.
"You don't have to tuck me in, you know." She says with a hint of a frown tugging on her lips, but there's a smile in her eyes. "And if Mom sent you to make sure I was staying away from Regina tonight -"
"She didn't." He assures as he sinks down to the bed beside Emma. "I just - wanted to say goodnight." It will be the first and last time he ever gets to do this. She's getting married in the morning, moving away from the castle that's never really been her home. He'll never be afforded this opportunity again.
"I used to dream about this, you know." She admits quietly, her already manicured nails (so strange to see them done up in this world) picking at the bedspread.
He feels a lump rising in his throat as he does his best to blink away the tears that are forming in his eyes. "Me too."
Her head flies up to meet his gaze, her blonde curls swaying around her head. He would've given anything to be there for her first haircut. "Yeah?"
"I always imagined you as a boy, you know? But then... when I realized you were going to be a little girl... I had so many dreams for us." He runs a hand over her hair. "Tea parties and teaching you to dance before your first ball. Having you stand on my feet. I realized I wanted that more than I could ever want to be able to teach a boy to ride or hunt or fight."
"You could've taught me those things too, you know." She says and her voice doesn't quiver like his does. So brave, his White Knight.
"You learned those things all on your own." He lets his pride and his anguish shine through as he stands and pulls the covers up tighter around her.
"The dancing would've been nice, though." She murmurs, already fading. She just wants tomorrow to arrive, he knows. He doesn't blame her for that.
"Yes, it would have. Goodnight, my Emma." He whispers as he presses his lips to her forehead.
He's in the doorway when her reply reaches him. "Goodnight, Daddy."
He cannot stop his tears, even as he makes his way past the guards and back to his chambers. Thankfully none of the guards react except one who has a daughter himself. He just gives the king a small, sympathetic nod.
It's harder than he ever imagined it would be. He's slain dragons, defeated a siren, been imprisoned, saved the love of his life from a curse, and had his memory wiped, but all of those things seem easy in the face of the five little words he has to say.
Henry has already done it without any problem, standing beside Regina and looking as proud and happy as he's ever seen. James can't help the niggling thought that in some ways, Henry has always wanted to give Regina away, even though he knows that isn't true anymore. The little boy loves his mother, no one can say otherwise. And whatever else she's been, Regina has always been a good mother to him.
But Emma - strong, brave, beautiful Emma who looks more like a princess in her simple, elegant wedding dress than she ever has before - well, James has already had to give her away once before. He'd lost 28 years with her - her entire childhood, gone in the blink of an eye as a wardrobe door closed - and although in his head he knows this isn't the same, his heart still aches at the question being posed to him now.
"Who gives this woman to be joined in matrimony?"
What right does the priest have to ask this of him? What right does Regina have to ask this of him? Regina, who already stole his daughter away once before. How can she stand there now, in front of him and their gods and ask him to give his daughter to her once again? Hasn't he already had enough taken? Why must she take this too?
But she isn't taking Emma. Not this time. He's giving her to Regina. And he has to remember that or he'll surely break down now. This is what Emma wants and his daughter's happiness is worth more to him than anything else in this world or any other.
He looks at her and sees her as she was that day in the throne room, bleeding and barely alive, her only thoughts for Regina and Henry, and again he is reminded of just how alike they are. He would've done anything, even died, for Snow. And Emma will do the same for Regina.
She will marry her even without his permission or consent. The fact that she'd even asked him - that Regina had asked him properly with talk of dower and dowery and bride price (even though they'd both bristled at the whole thing because they could never put a price on Emma) - shows her love for him more than anything else.
It may seem like she is still seeking love and approval from the parents she never had, but he knows better. She doesn't need their approval. Not really. She's stronger than that - stronger than even he and Snow ever were. And he couldn't be more proud.
So he smiles - and is surprised by the way that he doesn't have to force it, not even when looking at Regina today - and finally says the words that are more difficult than anything else he's ever said or done before or will again.
"Her mother and I do."
He stands with Snow and watches as Regina and Emma sway quietly together out on the terrance, beneath Regina's apple tree, oblivious to everything but each other. It had been Emma's only real demand about the wedding and ball after - that before the ball began, they had a few moments just for them - and he and Snow had quickly agreed. Emma may be a princess, but that didn't mean she had to like the trappings that came with it. If she'd had her way (and he thinks, if Regina'd had her way as well), they would've had a simple ceremony and tiny reception with only their closest family and friends in attendance. He cannot blame her, as he had had the same wishes for his wedding to Snow.
But that wasn't the kind of wedding befitting a princess (or a queen, if they acknowledged Regina as such) and so both women had given in to the pomp and circumstance that had been thrust on to their nuptials, so long as Emma's demand had been met. Now, watching them together, the deep purple of Regina's gown (to match the calla lilies in Emma's bouquet) pressing against the white of Emma's, he's glad that they have this moment together before they have to come back into the ball and face the entirety of the kingdom.
The ball after his own marriage is nothing but a blur (partially, he knows, because of the disruption and threats that his daughter's new wife made) and he wishes that they'd had a moment like that, filled with only love for each other without the fear and politics encroaching on them.
"She really does love her, doesn't she?" Snow's voice is quiet, almost reverent beside him.
He doesn't need to ask who Snow is talking about. It doesn't matter either way. The answer is the same.
"Yes. She does. The same as I love you and you love me. Truly."
She nods then and her features finally settle into a look of acceptance and perhaps even happiness. As hard as it had been for him to give Emma away to Regina, it had been nearly impossible for her. But in the end, Emma's happiness had meant more than all the bad blood between Snow and Regina, even if she'd had a hard time showing it.
Now though, in the face of their dance - of their love - she has calmed and he's glad. He knows what it feels like to marry someone while a parent (or in his case, an imposter) disapproves, and although he had done it with no regrets, as he knows Emma would, he doesn't want that for her.
"Oh." She says then, as the figures shift and Regina's face comes into view for the first time. "I'd forgotten how beautiful she is when she's in love."
And he remembers then, that although he has three versions of Regina in his head - the evil queen, the mayor, and the woman Emma loves - Snow has even more. Because Regina was once Snow's savior, her friend, and her mother. Those other versions of this woman will always linger like ghosts, he knows, but as each day passes, it seems easier to put them to rest in favor of this Regina, who truly is, as someone once claimed, the fairest of them all.
It's later, after the presentation of the royal couple and the feast and the toasts and the bestowing of the gifts, that the musicians finally pick up their instruments and the ball officially begins.
He waits with Snow at the side of the dance floor for Regina and Emma to start dancing. It is only once the newly married couple begins dancing that the other couples may join them. But instead of moving to the center of the floor, Regina and Emma make their way over to stand in front of them.
Regina stays a step behind Emma as she looks at him with a mischievous smile. "What do you say you teach me to dance before my first ball?"
He swallows hard twice before he can find his voice. "I would be honored."
Emma's smile widens then, turning into the same one she'd worn when he told her he'd give her away. He thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
Until, that is, he watches her carefully lift her dress and slip out of her high heels. Regina swoops down gracefully to pick up the (not glass) slippers and then moves to take his place beside Snow as Emma moves forward, stopping just as her bare toes touch the tip of his dress shoes. She wiggles them, letting them tap against his shoes impatiently until he takes her in his arms and gives her a careful tug, so that her bare feet settle over his shoes.
All eyes in the room are on them as they move to the center of the dance floor, but even after he begins swaying with her, no one moves to join them. Instead, they all watch, transfixed by the sight of the king and the princess dancing together. Emma rests her head on his shoulder as her arms wrap around his neck and he holds on to her waist as he picks his feet up a little more, spinning them around until he feels rather than hears her giggle.
It isn't what he dreamed of, all those years ago. She isn't a little girl who is only waist high to him. She's never looked up at him like he was the center of her whole world and now he knows she never will. But when she squeezes his neck and whispers, "I was right. This is nice." into his ear, he realizes it doesn't matter.
Because she's still his little girl, even if she's all grown up. And maybe they didn't get to have those moments he'd dreamed of - the tea parties and tucking her in at night and the beautiful wooden rocking horse he'd wanted Geppetto to make her - but that just means he gets to dream about new moments now - this dance and commiserating with her when she and Regina inevitably fight and helping to guide her through parenthood.
The song ends and he walks her back over to where their wives are waiting amidst applause from everyone. And if Snow and Regina both appear to have tears in their eyes, neither of them say anything. Instead, Emma leans over and kisses his cheek, proclaiming "I love you, Daddy," before reaching out and taking her shoes from Regina's hands and leading her back out onto the dance floor.
He watches them dance with Henry between them and he still feels the weight of her feet on top of his. And just like he had on the day he met Snow, he smiles to himself because he knows now. This isn't what he dreamed of. It's so much better.