A/N: Happy Mother's Day! This is kind of a spur of the moment decision to post. Don't expect updates anytime soon bc I have so many WIPs ;~; but it kind of works as a standalone for now. I have too many crossovers in my head, I can't be expected to keep them in there!

Enjoy!

Chapter One

Dark magic rippled through the kingdom, tumbling towards the castle in a great purple mist. The Evil Queen's curse had arrived, and with it came an energy that was terribly unstable. The fairies struggled to make their final preparations as their magic sputtered and fluctuated with each rumble and green flash of the ominous cloud.

It was then that they heard a cry from the tower, the piercing wail of their only hope.

Prince Charming burst into the hall, sword in hand while he cradled his infant daughter in the crook of his arm. Snow White's heartbroken sobs followed him out the door but her words from earlier pushed him on.

"We have to believe that she'll come back for us. We have to give her her best chance."

Burdened by that truth, he charged towards the Evil Queen's soldiers, cutting them down and enduring a shoulder wound before kicking open the nursery door. He could hear the curse billowing outside the castle, sense the dark magic pulsing through the air as it prepared to consume him and everyone he held dear.

Everyone except you, he thought, clutching the newborn to his chest.

For the wardrobe was waiting inside. Carved from an enchanted tree, it had the power to take her away from all of this. Take her somewhere safe.

He had to trust in that. Snow had faith, and so must he.

Toeing the wardrobe doors open with his boot, Charming dropped his sword and placed the baby gently inside. He knelt to give her forehead one last kiss.

"Find us," he whispered, then closed the doors and bolted them shut.

When the Queen's soldiers opened them again moments later, the child was nowhere to be found.

Outside a still-smoking tree, young Pinocchio was looking all about and hugging himself tight to keep warm. He turned and peeked again into the large hole from which he'd emerged, but it was still as empty as it had been the last three times he checked.

Five minutes had passed. He promised to look out for the savior, to protect her and guide her on her destiny, so he'd wait right here until she came through.

But how long was he supposed to wait?

After another two minutes, Pinocchio took a few cautious steps forward. He gazed out at the vast forest in anxious wonder.

Maybe she had come through a different tree…

In another world, and a much older forest, a young woman walked alone among the godswood.

Her name was Catelyn, formerly of House Tully, but now she was a Stark of Winterfell. A mother of a northern child. So she should feel right at home in this forest. Take comfort in it, just as her husband Ned did.

In truth, that was why she was here today. To seek guidance from the old gods. Or, if they would not help an outsider like her, perhaps she could at least find a quiet moment to think.

Oftentimes, Ned would sit underneath the weirwood to contemplate things. And since he had returned to her with a bastard babe months before, Catelyn herself had had an awful lot to contemplate.

She hated herself for the things she could think of a motherless child. It was through no fault of his own that Jon Snow had been brought into this world. He was an innocent… and yet how she loathed what he stood for.

Underneath Ned's beloved heart tree, Catelyn sank onto the moss-covered stone with a weary sigh and gazed into the black waters that lay before her. Dark as the hair that grew on Jon Snow's head. The hair of a Stark, whereas Robb had inherited a Tully red.

Even out here, it seemed she could not escape these thoughts.

Worse, she could feel the weirwood's eyes on her. Bearing down on her back, wondering why she was here and not doting on her husband's two boys. Loving them both, as a good woman should.

But could she truly be blamed for her frustrations? For the pain she felt living with the proof of Honorable Ned Stark's unfaithfulness? If a man's bastard cries out, his wife should not have to hear it. Not here in Winterfell as she tends to her trueborn son.

The birds of the forest chided her from the treetops as if they could read her terrible thoughts. She breathed deeply and shifted in her seat, closing her eyes as she folded her hands in her lap. The weirwood's stare was stronger now, raising the hairs on the back of her neck with its intensity. It felt as if the old gods were here and they were trembling with displeasure. And perhaps they were right. Perhaps this was all just borne out of exhaustion, the stress and added emotions of new motherhood.

Drawing another breath, she closed her eyes tighter and leaned forward, trying to lose herself in the peace and wisdom of the forest. To understand Ned's decision, to know if she would ever even love the boy, to ask if this was a true injustice to her or she was merely being selfish. A few tears slipped down her cheeks and dripped into the pool's waters.

What kind of fate was this, to watch him raise another woman's child…?

A powerful gust of wind blew her long hair back into a persistent flutter, so strong it nearly stole her breath as if it had burst straight through her heart. She opened her eyes; were the gods trying to answer her? Out of curiosity, she lifted her gaze to the shaking trees.

And then one of them exploded.

Catelyn jumped to her feet in bewilderment as a large chunk of wood blasted off the tree on the other side of the pool in an enormous cloud of smoke. Debris sputtered everywhere, some bits raining into the black waters. As she stood there, enthralled by the scene before her, the whistling wind died down and most of the smoke subsided into a steady wisp. Soon it would be gone, along with the slightly charred smell, but the evidence that would remain was a gaping hole in the tree – so big that even she might crawl inside.

She glanced around uncertainly, searching at first for an unseen enemy and then for something amongst the rubble that might've made the hole. The godswood couldn't be under attack. If someone had meant to threaten her, surely they would've aimed for a tree on her side of the pool. But if an enemy hadn't caused the explosion, then…

Unsure of herself, she took two or three slow and careful steps from the weirwood, her eyes on the hollowed tree. It could still be true that she was imagining things. But was it really a trick of her eyes, or was there something inside?

When she heard the baby cry, her caution turned to haste. She picked up the skirts of her dress and rounded the edge of the pool, her heart racing on instinct as she hurried to the tree. Slowing a few feet away, she approached the hole in growing disbelief at what she saw.

An infant peered up at her with fearful blue eyes, tears streaking down its round cheeks as it scrunched up its little red face for another healthy wail.

This was a newborn, Cat could tell that much, from the puffy eyes and shape of its head. Poor thing was hours old, if that, and lovingly bundled in a knitted white blanket. She gingerly reached in and took the baby into her arms, hushing gently as she read the name from the purple embroidery.

"Emma," Catelyn said softly, and cradled the child in the crook of her arm.

Thousands of questions swirled in her mind; she would not be able to answer them even if Emma was not still crying. She smirked faintly then, looking around at the godswood and then at her husband's cherished heart tree. It could be no coincidence that the eyes of the weirwood were fixed directly on this one.

Clearly the old gods were not subtle.

"Exploded?" Ned Stark repeated, holding Emma's head with the utmost care of an experienced father.

"I'd never seen anything like it, Ned. There was no lightning and no one else around. One moment the forest was quiet as ever, and the next the bark blasted from the tree of its own accord. And then there she was, all alone and squalling in her blanket."

Ned studied the baby, his heart visibly melting. "Bursts through a tree, no parents in sight," he murmured, chuckling through his puzzlement. "But you say she's healthy?"

"A perfectly healthy little girl," Maester Luwin confirmed with a gentle smile. As their most trusted and loyal maester who had helped bring Robb into the world, they had called him in to inspect the child. "If not just a bit hungry. I suspect she can't be more than two or three hours old."

"Who would abandon such a beautiful baby girl?" Catelyn wondered. She loved Robb very much, but dreamed of having a daughter or two one day. Seeing Ned with Emma now, she yearned for that even more. She had little doubt that her husband would be wrapped around his daughter's little finger.

"Not abandoned," Ned said after a moment. He turned to Catelyn with a soft smile. "She's a gift. From the gods."

Cat caught the hopeful sparkle in his eyes and faltered. "Ned… three children…"

"I know, Robb and Jon aren't even a year old," Ned finished sheepishly. "But look at her, Cat. She needs us. She came into this world all alone, and you were there. You hardly ever go into the godswood by yourself. Tell me you don't think you were meant to find this girl."

His words rang true in her heart. Perhaps it had been fate that drove her into the godswood when Emma would arrive. Or perhaps the tree explosion was the gods answering her somehow.

For all she knew, she might only give Ned sons, and this was the gods telling her so while giving them a chance at a daughter. But also no one else had seen what she had. No one else knew Emma was special. They might only see her as an orphan or bastard and another mouth to feed. What if no one would care for this girl like she and Ned could?

Apparently Ned saw the conflicted look on her face, so he closed the distance between himself and Cat. Lowering his forehead so that it almost touched hers.

"We have to give her her best chance," he said softly.

A slow smile spread across Catelyn's lips. "Alright," she said, "but this is the last one this year."

Ned laughed, and they sealed it with a kiss over the child, who gave a gurgling coo.

Thus began the story of Emma Snow.

A/N: I have so many feelings about this crossover. Please feel free to play around with this thought in your head so I'm not the only one anymore. :D

~Caroline