Chapter 14 –

~~The White Kingdom – 19 days after Emma's arrival ~~

Emma sat on the edge of her bed, her legs tucked under her as she ran a brush through her hair. She didn't bother half the time when she was home. But here the roads were dirt or cobbles, and dust was everywhere. Especially now that she started riding with Regina almost every day.

She huffed, losing herself in thought.

This Regina, who lived in a castle in the enchanted forest, was a whole other matter. In almost three weeks she had spent here this younger version of Storybrooke's mayor managed to confuse her. A lot. The young woman, who was barely out of her teens, didn't do anything specific. She was just so young, naïve, open, and warm. And she looked so like her older self that if it wasn't for the long hair Emma was almost positive that she couldn't tell the two apart should the sassy, sarcastic woman she knew show up somehow.

That was another matter. Back in the mayoral mansion Regina made Emma promise and swear that she would not seek out Rumpelstiltskin, and to attempt not to even speak the man's name since that was a way of calling him. Emma had wondered at this, since the man was well versed in magic, but even more so since Regina demanded Emma give her solemn oath - twice, as they danced.

The memory of the time spent dancing with Regina sent a shiver up her spine.

'Home is that place that when you leave – you miss.' Neal had said that to her ages ago. Back when they were just starting to get to know each other. And the more time she spent here, the more time she spent with these people who she grew to call friends – Jack, Beth, Ella, and even Nancy and some of the soldiers, but especially this Regina – the more she missed Storybrooke.

She missed her son. She missed her parents' and their needless worrying. She missed Granny's diner and Ruby who would greet her warmly and have cups of hot cocoa with her. She missed sitting in a booth, across from Henry eating a burger.

She missed cheeseburgers. And indoor plumbing. She missed indoor plumbing so much...

But slowly, and ever more acutely she was missing her exchanges with Regina.

Sitting in the diner telling stories and laughing. Leaning back on a park bench, Regina would cross her legs primly, while they watched Henry play with Hansel and Gretel or Grace before one of them would walk off. The fights they would have when she first got into town where Regina would step so close to her that Emma would get a whiff of her shampoo – always apples.

This young Regina was so different than her older self, that she was almost a different person. This one sought her out, not merely tolerated her presence. Talked to her, confided in her, and was maybe even starting to look up to her. But she wasn't like that when they were riding. She was a teacher then. Correcting her posture, demanding that Emma do things on her own and staying back to critique and correct her technique.

But she was getting better. She had managed not to fall on her face, and she had gotten the hang of brushing Tempest down after their exercise. The lessons themselves weren't hard – Regina insisted that she needed to learn to control Tempest before they started anything exciting like cantering or galloping. Regina had led them numerous times through a course designed to test Emma's ability to turn right, left, do figure eights, as well as accelerate to a trot, or stop perpendicular or parallel to various gates, fences, and trees. During those lessons Emma could almost see Regina's older self shining though. Almost.

She sighed before putting the brush down and starting to braid her hair. She hadn't worn it like that in years, but it was much easier to look after this way. Another tip from Regina.

Would Storybrooke's Regina braid her hair if it was long enough? She seemed to be growing it a bit in the past few years, but it was still nowhere near a length that could be braided. And what would Henry think if he saw his brunette mother with her hair like that – looking so different than Emma had ever seen the woman.

Her brother would be a month old by now.

Emma couldn't help but wonder what her parents would name him. Would it be an old name from their homeland, or something new? She frowned at the thought of the baby being called Leopold. From what saw, or rather – didn't see – of the man and the way he treated his wife – Emma had yet to develop any positive feelings towards the man who was technically her grandfather. There wasn't much that she could do about her brother's name from here though.

If only her magic was functional, she thought as she started tying a bit of ribbon to hold her braid together. She tried to move one of the candles for the umpteenth time with no result. Who could she go to anyway? Her only options were Blue and Rumple, and she didn't really want to see either of them.

But she did want to see Henry. And her parents. The glimpses of young Snow White gave her shivers. The girl wasn't even 13...

She shook herself out of her thoughts when she heard a knock at her door.

"Come in!" She called, and Beth stepped into the room, closing the door quickly behind her. Emma smirked. "It's really fine for you to be here. Besides, you know all of the soldiers; they won't throw their captain's sister in a cell for trespassing."

"They might not, but Jack will hold it over my head for years!" The brown haired woman threw her hands up for emphasis, causing Emma to laugh. Beth sat herself on the bed next to Emma and reached for the end of the braid. "You look nice in a braid."

Emma moved her head back a bit, removing her hair from the other woman's grasp. "What's up, Beth? What brings you by?"

Beth shrugged. "I just wanted to see you. You haven't been coming to Ella's as much as you used to."

"Regina has been teaching me how to ride." A small smile formed on Emma's face as she explained her absence to the younger woman. "I was sore as all hell after the first time, and I think I'll be sore again tomorrow..." The smile morphed into a frown.

"The queen?"

"Why are you still so surprised that we're friends? I've been here for nearly three weeks and I don't think there was a day that we didn't spend time together."

"She's just so distant from everybody! She doesn't seem to even feel warmth towards the king."

Emma's eyebrow rose almost on its own accord. "Would you be, if you were fo... married to someone old enough to be your father?"

"I would try!"

Emma's eyebrow climbed higher. "How do you know she hasn't?"

Beth opened her mouth, but in the end closed it again without saying anything. The grin returned to Emma's lips. "She is not the reason I came here though." Beth finally stated, her arms folding across her chest.

"I didn't think she was." Emma said as she got up from the bed, brush in hand, and headed for a side table.

"There were two things I wanted to ask you – firstly – did you start thinking about your dress for the ball?"

"My dress?" The last syllable was swallowed by an exhalation and Emma's shoulders slumped. "Can't I wear a suit?"

"No." Beth said firmly before looking down and up the blonde's body. "Though if any woman can pull it off - I am sure that it would be you. We can talk with my brother tomorrow, he will find something for you, and then we can go to Susan or Jane so they will tailor it to you."

"And you second question?" Emma found herself wondering - since this was the first thing, would the second be better or worse?

"Would," Beth broke off, took a deep breath and started again, "would you care to accompany me to the ball?"

Emma blinked. "Like – a date?" Beth looked at her confused. "Are you asking me to..." she paused, looking for words. "Are you asking this as a suggestion for a romantic evening?" She made a face at her own phrasing.

The other woman nodded, but her face showed that she understood Emma's reaction to be because of her suggestion.

"No, this isn't... I didn't make a face at your suggestion! Just - trying to find another way to say date made it sound so... weird." She took a fortifying breath, "but I think," she shook her head, "I'm sorry."

Beth turned her eyes to her hand, which moved slightly back and forth on the covers. "Is this because of the queen?"

"Regina." Emma countered almost automatically. "No, I just -"

"You have been here for three weeks." Beth cut her off, her brown eyes rising to meet Emma's once more. "You have to consider that, as harsh as it may seem - maybe there won't be a portal to take you back to your Storybrooke, Maine." Goosebumps erupted all over Emma's skin. "Or maybe it will open in a few years. You can't keep living on hope."

Emma swallowed the bile in her throat. "That's why I'm learning to ride." She lied calmly, meeting the eyes of the woman sitting on her bed. "If I can't get there one way, I'll try and find another." She said firmly, wishing it was that easy.

Beth nodded and stood.

"Beth," Emma reached out but stopped just short of touching the younger woman, "I'm sorry."

Beth shrugged. "It's alright, I just figured that it was worth a try."

After the younger woman left, Emma stared at the closed door for a while, almost feeling bad with the knowledge that the first part of Beth's last sentence was a lie.