I wrote this yesterday. And I'm glad I did because after that freaking finale, I became an emotional wrecking ball.
I'm planning on writing an all-angst fic. Because apparently, sadness is my forte.
Here's a little fluff!:)
The night was filled with dancing, laughter, and more dancing.
Emma wasn't just known as the town sheriff now, some people—Leroy, being the first—called her the resident Princess, a nickname she wasn't sure she could stand for long. After dancing with her father and the relentless twirls with Henry, she was flat out exhausted. So Emma watched from a distance as the crowd squeezed through the dance floor, nibbling on a macaroon from the centrepiece, careful not to drop crumbs on her dress.
Emma watched as her parents swayed in slow, lingering motions as they held each other. Oh, what a pair. She had long given up on love; it was something she was never so lucky about from the start. But at least some people are not as loveless as she was.
David twirled Snow in the air, catching her back when she came face to face with him again. A smile crept on his features, and Snow knew that smile. It was the smile reserved for her. He had a different, loving smile when he looked at his daughter, a proud grin when he pats Henry on the back, but this; this smile was exclusively for her.
"For a night we can pretend everything is as it seemed." She whispered, wrapping her arms around her prince's waist. "We may have missed a lot on Emma's life, but we got her first ball." She smirked, looking over her shoulder to check on her daughter.
"She's everything I've ever dreamed of." David whispered, following his queen's gaze. "It's such a shame we can't take any credit for everything that she is right now."
Snow's heart clenched. But as far as the pretending goes, she couldn't let herself be somber. This was supposed to be a joyous night, and she'd keep it that way. "We can take credit for her good looks, that's undebatable."
David let out a chuckle. Snow was right; if there was anything Emma owed them, it was her good looks, her father's tact, and her mother's irresistible charm.
"She doesn't look so happy, though." Snow commented, watching as Emma watched the people with a dry eye.
"Oh, Snow. She's just not used to this." He reassured her. "Go to her. Who better show Princess Emma the ropes of royalty than Queen Snow White herself?" he backed away and ended the dance with a polite curtsy and a wink.
Snow returned the gesture with a small nod, and a coy smile on her face, before walking over to her princess.
"The night's still young, princess."
Emma looked up, and the weight of the nickname sank in. "Please, we both know that's not…"
"But tonight, it is true." Snow grinned, cupping Emma's cheeks with both hands. "Have I told you what a beautiful princess you'd make? And so long as technicalities go, you're royalty, Emma."
Emma ducked her head slightly. "But David's a shepherd; what does that make me?"
"...a shepherd who was eventually made King. Still, Emma. A princess." Snow rebutted, releasing her hold on her daughter, and reached her arm out. "Come on, humour me. It's just for the night, you know."
Princess. Ha.
Double Ha!
Emma scoffed. Maybe it was the overwhelming attention from the whole town, not to mention the whole new level of admiration or just the exhaustion that made her shook her head. The hurt that crossed her mother's features didn't go unnoticed. Clouded by feelings of her own, she got to her feet, "Actually, maybe I'll call it a day. I have work tomorrow and..."
Snow forced a smile, taking a step back from Emma. "Of course."
Emma turned to leave; but Snow reached out for her daughter's hand—one last time. "I'll see you later, okay?"
Snow watched as Emma hurried to the doors. Some of the guests noticed her exit, but eventually returned to their merry dancing and chatting. She returned to her husband, on his knees and leaning against a pillar facing three small kids in princess gowns, with plastic tiaras on their heads.
"…and the three beautiful princesses worked together to bring happiness back to the kingdom."—she caught the end of his story, keeping a safe distance.
The older girls cooed in awe. The youngest, around three to four, with curly blond hair bobbing up and down her shoulder, and round, green eyes filled to the brim with innocence looked up at David questioningly. "But…what happened to the other princess? The one who was sent away to a faraway land?"
"Oh, that princess." His lips broke into a soft, sad smile. "Need not worry about that one; she's special. You see, she was born to be a Savior. Do you want to know what happened to the other princess?"
"Yes!" The three girls said in glee. Snow watched intently as she braced herself for yet another wave of fresh tears and salting of wounds.
David cleared her throat. "That, my dear ladies, is for another time."
"…but she's okay?" the smallest asked.
He grinned, brushed a finger on her cheeks and nodded. "She will be."
"Well, I'm starved." The other girl exclaimed. "Thanks for the story, Mister Nolan."
David watched as the small girl dragged her small feet to the direction of the buffet. He imagined Emma at that age, thought of the bedtime stories he could have told her, the things they'd have done together, and he could only sigh.
He got to his feet, and searched the room.
Snow stepped into her husband's periphery, clasping his hand with hers. "Adorable little girls, aren't they?"
He nodded, "Yeah. Their parents are lucky to have them."
She nuzzled against his neck, breathing him in. They always thought they could do anything. They've accomplished so much in the past with their love and faith. They've conquered battles, sleeping curses and forgetting potions, they thought they could do it all. They've done all that—so much more than other people did in their lifetime—except one thing: raise their daughter.
"Where's Emma?" he asked, pulling away.
Snow sighed. "She just left. I wish I knew what upset her but…"
"I know…" David added.
"I just want to be there for her, David. But she's not letting me. She doesn't need her mother anymore."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Emma tried to convince herself that it was a terrible night.
That it didn't suit her.
That her heart didn't yearn for that life.
But she had more fun than she first thought, and her heart yearned for that life.
That's why she couldn't stand being called a princess.
She had never been royalty, and she was never cut out for that path. Her fate was sealed the moment she went through the portal.
Her princess contract ended then.
Above all, being called Princess reminded her of everything that she was meant to be, but was not. She was a bail bonds person for heaven's sake! Queens and Kings would not approve of the things she did in the past. As far as qualifications go, she wasn't cut out for it.
Emma made her way up to her bedroom she'll be occupying all by herself for tonight. Henry had promised Regina a sleepover, and she couldn't get in the way of that. Being alone was probably a good thing; she needed space. A whole lot of it. She wondered how her parents did it. Sure, they had thousands of balls back in the day, which probably explained their enthusiasm and energy.
She stopped in front of the mirror, and made one last look of herself.
Emma wondered what could have happened if the curse didn't hit. She wondered if she'd love the life royalty could offer. The questions that were impossible to answer lingered in her mind, pulling her back into that sinking feeling: loneliness. She could have been the small baby girl the kingdom celebrated, the toddler who ran around the castle walls, squealing as her father chased her, the teenager who snuck out of the castle at a late hour to meet a boy who made her heart beat for the first time, the broken-hearted young lass who turned to her mother for comfort.
She clenched her eyes close. She was better off not thinking about all that.
With a deep sigh, she decided to strip herself off of her ball gown.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Snow wrapped one arm around her husband's neck, holding on tightly as he carried her all the way up to their apartment. David kicked the door open—hoping he hadn't damaged it in some way—and gently placed his queen to her feet. Their eyes locked, and for a moment there were just the two of them in the world. It didn't take long before David closed the distance between him and Snow, cherishing the silence of the small flat, hearts fluttering.
Snow pulled away. "It's been a long time since you carried me."
"Twenty eight years too long, huh?"
"I guess."
David placed a hand on Snow's cheeks, his skin warming hers. He craned his neck to the direction of the staircase, soft light flooding out from his daughter's room. "I remembered when you told me about your first ball in your honor." He turned back to Snow, "You said it sucked the energy out of you. You were six years old, and you were expected to smile all night long, and you had no idea what was going on."
Snow chuckled at the memory.
Then she understood, and looked to the direction of Emma's room. Hesitance flashed on her face, and David was quick to brush it away.
"She maybe twenty eight years old, but this is her first ball, remember?" he said with a small smile on his face. "She needs you, Snow. She still needs a mother. And by all accounts, I know you've been waiting too long to do this."
"I've waited for this the moment I found out I was pregnant with Emma."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Emma heard heels clicking on the wooden floor. She'd been in this apartment and have known Mary Margaret long enough to know the sound of her footsteps, and how she momentarily pauses at the door before knocking. This time though, there weren't any soft taps on her door. It swung open at her mother's command, white, feathery dress peeking out from the crack.
"Hey."
Emma looked up, a small smile plastered on her face. "Had fun?"
"So much more if you hadn't gone home so early." Snow took a place on the foot of Emma's bed, and looked at the neatly folded ball gown on the small table. "I knew there was a reason why I never got to wear that one."
"I'm sorry?" Emma said in a small voice, clutching thick blankets to her chest.
She got up, picked up the garment from its place, and breathed from it. "…smells like home. I had more of these than I could ever count, and this was the last one to get out of our seamstress. I was going to wear it for when we show you off to the whole kingdom." She gave Emma a sideways glance.
"I thought you…"
"I never lost hope. That maybe Regina wouldn't enact the curse and we'll have our happy ending. I still hoped we'd get to raise you; amidst anticipating the dark curse." Snow sighed, and let go of the dress. She walked back to the bed, and this time sat beside her daughter. "It was nice to see you in it." She put one hand on Emma's, eyeing the small flower tattoo for the first time. Blood rushed to cheeks. How could she not notice this before?
Emma ducked her head, a chuckle escaping her mouth. "You're just saying that because you're my mother. Mothers say that kind of…"
"How long have you had this?" she asked, a finger tracing the ink on her daughter's wrist.
Emma looked up at Snow, and followed her gaze. "Oh this? Forever." She held up her wrist to her face. She didn't flinch when Snow rested her head on her shoulder, waiting to hear her out. "I had it on my fifteenth birthday, you know a gift for myself. I originally wanted my name written instead, but then this tattoo guy—who was weirder than the average tattoo guys—suggested this. He told me about how this five-petaled flower represents goodness, bravery, truth, love and the other thing he forgot."
"Sacrifice."
"What?" Emma craned her neck, eyes on Snow.
"The other petal means sacrifice." Snow smiled, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "I don't know how fate did it, but that flower, Emma dear, is the crest on your father's armour. The crest on our kingdom's every soldier."
Emma gasped, "You're kidding…"
"We can pay Gold a visit sometime and see if he still had anything bearing that flower."
Emma's smile grew wider. Somehow, knowing the truth about her childish adventure healed a hole in her heart. It made her feel that her people, and most importantly her family, had been with her all along. "Wow, I never thought this little thing meant anything."
Snow ran a finger on Emma's face, and tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "That little thing meant everything. It means that even worlds and curses apart, we still found each other."