In which Snow was a Princess, Aurora was a Princess, and they probably should have known of each other, shouldn't they? Also in which I try and work out the politics of the Enchanted Forest.
Emma should have known, really, that she should have said it back.
She had made the age-old mistake of assuming that she had time, that there would be another conversation at a later date, where she could articulate how she felt.
She thought she'd learned that lesson a long time ago.
As she fell into a hat, of all things, after something that her parents said was a wraith, but looked more like a Dementor from the Harry Potter movies, her last thought was that he would never know that she had forgiven him before she had even finished walking out the door.
Then suddenly, she was flying instead of falling - something that made no sense, but before she could question it, she was on the ground, even though she did not recall landing.
For a moment, she lay still, her head spinning. She could hear voices, but her vision was obscured by something large that appeared to be lying on top of her.
Her ribs ached uncomfortably, but thankfully not with the stinging pain she had felt the day before.
Could she hear voices?
Theoretically, that should have been impossible - Regina had been insistent that there was nowhere to return to, that the Enchanted Forest had been destroyed by the Dark Curse.
She shifted, trying move whatever was on top of her, and her hand brushed against something lying beside her - someone.
As her eyes fell on Snow White's unconscious body, the object above her moved and light streamed down.
"They brought the wraith!"
Emma immediately raised her hands, partly to show that she was unarmed and partly to shield her eyes from the sudden light.
Two women were staring down at them - one young, pretty, wearing a purple chiffon dress that didn't appear to offer much protection against the cold, the other clad in armour, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, and apparently Chinese - although if this was the Enchanted Forest, that couldn't be right, Emma thought, but she didn't know nearly enough about the land to take any other guesses.
She was the one who had spoken, one hand on her sword in a way that made Emma very nervous.
"I'm sorry," she began, her voice trembling. "It was terrorising our town - we were told that the Dark Curse destroyed everything here and that we would be sending it into the abyss."
"You expect us to believe that?" The armoured woman hauled Emma to her feet none-too-gently. "Our prince is dead because of that thing!"
Emma's gaze followed her pointed finger to where a figure lay on a dais several feet away. "I'm so sorry," she repeated, her heart clenching as the other woman let out a sob. "We had no idea; I swear!"
"Where did you come from?"
"Storybrooke," Emma answered immediately. "It's … It's in another realm. The Dark Curse created the town and sent everyone there and froze them in time. We were told that the Enchanted Forest was destroyed."
"Well, it wasn't." The warrior said, her voice clipped. "And if you thought it was destroyed, what are you doing here?"
"It was an accident," Emma said, marginally affronted. "I got … sucked into the portal after it. Snow must have jumped in after me."
The other woman suddenly let out a gasp. "Snow? Snow White?!"
"You know her?" Her companion asked.
"She ruled one of the neighbouring kingdoms," she said, kneeling beside Snow in the rubble. "Of course I know her. I just didn't recognise her without her long hair."
"And she would have been swept up in that curse?" The first woman asked.
"She was the target," Emma said. "How didn't you get caught up in the curse?"
"I was asleep until a few hours ago," the kneeling woman said. "I'm not sure."
"Some kind of magic," the armoured woman said, still eyeing Emma with distrust. "The curse swept from Misthaven across to Nolansia and took out everything in its wake. But something protected this part of the Enchanted Forest. Time froze; we just didn't go anywhere. And - sorry - you are?"
There were two words in that explanation that meant nothing to Emma but she wasn't about to ask. "Emma. I'm …" she trailed off, unsure how exactly to introduce herself, but the woman now rising from her mother's side was looking at her with a spark of recognition.
"You're her daughter," she said softly. "Aren't you? I can see it now - the resemblance."
"Whose daughter?" The warrior asked.
"Snow White's. She was pregnant. I assume you were born before the curse hit?"
"My parents managed to get me to safety," Emma said. "I grew up outside the curse so I … Well, I grew up, even though no one else did."
The armoured woman had relaxed and gave her a bow. "My apologies, your highness."
"It's … fine," Emma said, deciding against correcting anyone here. "I really am so sorry about your friend …"
"Mulan," she said, holding out a hand.
"Of course she was.
"And her majesty, Queen Aurora."
And Sleeping Beauty.
"Princess," Aurora corrected, as Emma shook their hands. "Phillip was to be king, yes, after my parents passed, but we … never got to the coronation."
"You will need to take the mantle," Mulan said gently.
Names and titles were the last thing Emma wanted to be worrying about, but she was in a different place with very different rules and Snow was still unconscious, so she gave Aurora a smile. "No offence, your majesty, but what do I call you?"
Aurora managed a tiny smile of her own. "Aurora is fine. You didn't grow up with royalty?"
"I grew up in a land without a royal family at all," Emma said, "let alone anywhere close to one. So the protocol is a little … lost on me. And with my mother still unconscious …"
Aurora stepped a little closer, reaching out to take Emma's hand again. "You are the Crown Princess of Nolansia. You curtsey - or bow - to a king or queen, everyone else curtseys or bows to you. As far as I'm concerned, I am still a Crown Princess myself."
So Nolansia was her parents' kingdom - and explained David's last name.
"Did she hit her head?" Aurora continued, bending to check on Snow again.
"I'm not sure," Emma said. "My head is still spinning."
"We must be moving," Mulan said. "Phillip will be safe here, until we can find a way to wake him. The palace is still protected from your slumber, your majesty. Can you ride, Princess Emma?"
"Horses?" Emma asked. "Sorry - that was a stupid question. I can, yes, but I haven't for some time."
She hadn't even been near a horse since she was ten.
Aurora eyed Emma's jeans. "I can't ride properly in this dress. We have two horses - if we take one, Mulan can take Snow on the other."
"We'll need to rest for the night," Mulan said. "Hopefully, her majesty should be awake by morning. Are you armed?"
"I am," Emma said, patting her gun. "But I don't know how useful it's going to be against anything here. It's a gun - it's … kind of like a very small cannon?"
Thankfully, that explanation seemed to make some kind of sense. "I wouldn't use it," Mulan warned. "The whole of the Enchanted Forest has been overtaken by ogres, and that noise will just summon them - they're blind, but very sensitive to sound."
"Well, that sucks," Emma said bluntly. "I don't suppose you have a spare sword stashed away?"
For the first time, Mulan managed a small smile. "We have a camp not far from here, and I do there, yes. Aurora and I returned on foot to search for Phillip."
"He realised he was marked," Aurora said in a small voice. "He went away so it wouldn't harm us."
Mulan stooped over Snow and lifted her up; Emma moved to her other side so her mother was propped up between them. "Not far, you said?"
"Not far," Mulan confirmed.
Thankfully, Mulan's idea of 'not far' turned out to agree with Emma's and, within ten minutes, they were bedded down in a tent strung up between two trees.
It was not the most comfortable of beds, but Emma had certainly had worse. They tucked Snow in with her, and Aurora curled up on her other side.
Mulan was apparently not tired - or possibly had just developed the ability to function on a small amount of sleep - so she sat by a campfire, keeping the embers alight and watching out for any danger.
Emma made a few offers to take over, but was rebuffed. She spent the night dozing - automatically waking every hour almost to the second, and taking the opportunity to check her mother's pulse and make sure she was okay.
At some point, Snow's breathing became deeper and more even, and Emma relaxed somewhat, hoping that meant she had shifted from unconscious to asleep.
On her sixth waking, when faint light was just beginning to creep into the tent, it was a soft noise that woke Emma, rather than whatever her internal clock was doing.
Snow was still, so she rolled over, her eyes falling on Aurora, who was trembling, little whimpers escaping her as she dreamed.
Emma reached across and took her hand, squeezing gently. A second later, the other woman's eyes flew open with a gasp.
"It's okay," Emma murmured. "You were dreaming."
Aurora's fingers tightened around hers. "Thank you."
"Are you alright?" Emma asked, hearing the tremble in her voice.
"Just … Just a really weird dream," Aurora whispered. "I was in a room … It was on fire …"
"Probably just the smell of the smoke from the campfire," Emma said. "Try and match my breathing."
Finally, Aurora relaxed and her breathing evened out once more, her grip relaxing as she slipped back into sleep.
Emma shifted on to her back again, gazing at the roof of the tent. Her ribs ached despite the bandage tight around her middle.
Still, she had soldiered on with far worse injuries when she was younger. And, at some point, she would have to tell Mary Mar - her mother - that.
At some point, she would have to break her parents' hearts.
Ruby Lucas was a godsend, August decided.
With Snow and Emma's disappearance, David had faltered. He had returned to the hospital room with what could only be described as a haunted expression and broken the news to Henry that his mom was missing.
While David tried to find his feet (and his family), Ruby had stepped up, gently but firmly corralling the town into some kind of order; helping Jiminy (Archie - August had to remember that - he preferred Archie) set up a booking list for people who needed help, keeping children occupied while parents - and not-parents - worked out custody agreements and spousal difficulties, and still helping her grandmother keep the diner running as a safe place for people to meet or even just have five minutes to break down.
August had stayed with David and Henry. Emma had asked him to look after her son, and this time he would not fail.
"What were you and Mom fighting about?" Henry asked quietly, staring at his hot chocolate.
August just about choked on his, especially when David looked up at that as well. "It wasn't an argument, Henry. There was something I told your mom that she wasn't happy about. It's not …" he faltered.
Not important was a lie.
"It's something your mom needs to talk to you about, if she wants to," he settled on.
"Why don't you head on up to bed, kid," David said quietly, his eyes still fixed on August. "It's late."
"I want to help," Henry said firmly.
"Henry …" David hesitated. "I know you want to help, okay? But right now … I don't know what to do. I don't know what you can help with. But I do know that none of us can do anything if we're asleep on our feet. I'll be going to bed myself shortly."
"Promise?" Henry asked in a very small voice.
August set his mug down and got to his feet. "Is it alright if I take the couch?"
David gave him another searching look. "Sure."
"Thanks." August squeezed Henry's shoulder. "Come on."
Henry nodded, detouring around the kitchen island to give his grandfather a hug, and followed August up the stairs to Emma's room.
Once he was sure Henry was tucked in and asleep - which didn't take long considering how tired the kid obviously was - he went back downstairs to face the inevitable questions.
"Do I want to know how you know where her bedroom is?" David asked.
"Regina had a skeleton key," August answered. "Emma found out when Kathryn was missing. She asked me to come and change all of the locks. Including the ones on her window."
David hesitated. "Thanks. I didn't know about that."
"Well, she wouldn't have told you, would she?" August said fairly, picking up his mug again. "We'll get them back."
"How?" David asked. "Regina said there's nothing left."
August grimaced. "I know. But do we want to take Regina's word on that?"
"No," David conceded. "No, we have to try. I just don't know how. The hat's broken, wherever Regina pulled it from in the first place …"
"Hat?" August repeated, startled.
David nodded. "It was a hat. She said it was a portal."
"Belongs to Jefferson then," August said. "The Hatter," he added, when David just looked puzzled. "Emma met him a few weeks back - but he's unstable. Very unstable. He was cursed to remember, rather than forget."
David frowned. "I don't remember meeting a Jefferson."
"Entire town thought he was nuts," August said. "Keeps himself to himself. His daughter's friends with Henry."
"She thought he was mad too?" David asked.
August grimaced. "She didn't know him. She had parents under the curse. They just weren't actually her parents."
David cursed under his breath. "All of this suffering …"
"Well, at least most families appear to have been kept together," August said. "You seem to be the exception, rather than the rule."
"True," David admitted grudgingly. "So - what are you and Emma fighting about?"
August drained his mug. "Nothing."
David raised an eyebrow and waited.
August sighed. "Really. Nothing. For this to be a fight, I would have to disagree with her. I don't disagree. I screwed up a long time ago, admitted it to her, and she is - quite rightly - angry with me."
"So what happened?" David asked.
August smiled weakly. "Not sure talking about this to her father is the best idea."
"Who else are you going to talk to?" David asked.
He had a point, August had to admit. Before he knew it, the whole story came tumbling out, about how his father had drilled it into him that it was his job to look after the princess, how he had emerged into such a different world, how he had abandoned Emma, how had almost destroyed himself though guilt, tried to fix it, and somehow made it worse.
By the time he had finished, he was talking to the table top rather than the prince - the king, really, given that George had been deposed.
David's hand landed on his shoulder. "Pinocchio, look at me."
August forced himself to do as he was told, meeting blue eyes that … didn't look angry?
"You were a child," David said, the words slow and deliberate. "We would never have expected you to be able to look after her, and you should never have been given that responsibility. You got her somewhere safe, which is more than most children your age would have had the forethought to do. You even got her away from the tree - I'm not sure I would have had the sense to do that. Yes, what happened with Neal was … unfortunate. But you didn't tell him to leave. He made that decision."
August managed a small smile. "I guess."
"We'll get them back," David said firmly. "And she will have forgiven you by then." He sighed. "Are you okay staying with Henry? I'm going to take a walk, get some air."
"Of course," August said. "Sorry for … you know - dropping all that on you."
"I'm just glad you're not hiding behind things anymore," David said with a smile.
August turned a little red. "I'd forgotten that. I think I picked up on Papa's reverence. I'm sorry he …"
"Not your job," David interrupted. "But you are going to have to talk to him at some point."
"I don't want to let him down," August mumbled, more to himself than to David.
David cocked his head, as though he was considering saying more, but grabbed his jacket and let himself out of the loft.
August heaved a sigh as the door clicked, taking his and David's mugs to the sink (because of course the curse hadn't given Mary Margaret a dishwasher - although he was fairly sure that the rest of this land hadn't had dishwashers when it started, so that might not be Regina's fault).
As he turned towards the couch, something caught his eye at the top of the stairs. He froze, silently praying that maybe he'd imagined it.
But, no, there was Henry - perched at the top of the stairs, wide awake, and silently crying.
"Henry?" August asked, hoping that maybe he'd only been there for a few minutes. "Bad dream?"
"She told me he was a firefighter."
August bit back a curse, sinking on to the couch. "Come here, kid."
Wiping at his face, Henry got up and made his way down the stairs, curling up beside him. "She said he was a firefighter and he died. Why did she lie to me?"
Emma was going to kill him.
August hesitated. He could either try and help, and risk making it worse, or say nothing, and let Emma deal with it when - if - she got back.
"I think," August said slowly, "that your mom was scared."
Henry frowned. "I don't understand."
"Grown-ups get scared sometimes," August said. "I guess she told you that not long after you met?"
Henry nodded. "It was before you came to town."
"So your mom wasn't used to being a mom," August said gently. "She was still trying to figure out how to help you and … I think that maybe she was scared that if she told you the truth you'd be upset. Or you'd ask her questions she didn't know the answer to. So she made up a story that would make you feel better. And it wasn't the right thing to do, but … Grown-ups make mistakes sometimes. It doesn't make them bad people."
"Like you?" Henry asked curiously.
August winced. "I screwed up, kid," he said frankly. "Maybe if I hadn't, you'd have grown up with your mom, rather than Regina."
Henry thought for a second. "But … if I'd grown up with her, I wouldn't have known about the curse, would I? She might never have come to Storybrooke, and the curse wouldn't have broken."
Sometimes August forgot Henry was only ten.
"That's true," August said cautiously. "Still, I'm sorry."
Henry shrugged. "That's okay. Does Gold know you knew his son?"
"I haven't told him," August said. "And please don't you tell him either. The man is dangerous. Let your mom deal with that when she gets back, okay?"
Henry sighed. "Do you think I'll ever meet him?"
August hesitated again. "I don't know. Maybe."
"It'd be nice to have a dad," Henry continued. "The closest I had was Graham, but Regina didn't like that."
"Graham?" August asked, sure he knew the name from somewhere.
"He was the Sheriff before Mom," Henry said. "He was the huntsman."
The huntsman - who had sacrificed his heart for Snow White's.
"And he was a good man?" August asked.
"He used to take me for ice cream," Henry said. "You know, when Mom - I mean, Regina didn't realise. I don't think she liked him being around me because I'd notice that he wouldn't remember anything every time the curse anniversary came around."
At some point, August was going to figure out how Regina thought she would ever get away with it, adopting a child from outside the curse - how she thought that he would never notice the way the people around him didn't age, and lived the same year over and over again without question.
Today was not that day.
"What happened to him?" August asked, dreading the question.
"I think she killed him," Henry said quietly. "Mom doesn't know. I mean, she probably knows what happened, but she doesn't know I know. Regina said he had a heart attack, but I heard Mom telling Grandma that Dr Whale said that didn't make sense, and that just before he died, he kissed her and told her he remembered."
So Emma and Graham had been close before he died.
Maybe that was part of the reason why she was so against believing him when he tried to tell her that he was dying - too scared to believe it was happening again.
August wrapped an arm around Henry's shoulder. "We'll probably never know, Henry. But I do know he was a good man. And that if he was willing to go against Regina, he must have been very fond of you."
Henry leaned against him. "I just … I don't want to lose another dad."
August hugged him closer. "You won't, kiddo. We'll find him."
"But what about you?" Henry asked sleepily.
August couldn't help the slow smile that spread across his face. "I'm not going anywhere, Henry. I promise."
The safe camp was on an island, which they reached by crossing a shallow lagoon, the water lapping at the horses' fetlocks.
Snow had woken with the dawn as Emma had hoped, and had happily reunited with Aurora and commiserated with her loss in the next instance.
They travelled mostly in silence so as not to alert any ogres nearby, but once they reached dry land again, Mulan finally spoke.
"We're clear. The ogres don't cross water."
"So everyone who escaped the curse is here?" Snow asked immediately.
"Not everyone," Mulan answered. "Richard remained in his kingdom."
"Of course he did," Snow muttered. "Arrogant twerp."
Aurora giggled from behind Emma, one of the first signs of levity Emma had seen in her. "I assume his countrymen came along."
"A lot of them, yes," Mulan said. "Those that could afford to leave their homes and farms, and not trust in his army."
"And the, ah, thorns in his side?" Snow asked, a slight smirk on her face.
"They remained," Mulan said with a smile of her own. "They sent word that they had a responsibility to those who had been left behind."
Emma was about to ask, but at that moment, they came across a camp and Snow was sliding from the other horse with a joyful cry.
"Lancelot!"
One of the men broke away from the group and swept her up in an embrace.
"No introductions needed then," Mulan said, completely unshaken, dismounting to assist Aurora to the ground as well.
Emma dismounted and made her way over to where her mother had now released her old friend and was animatedly explaining what had happened.
"… so really all we need is to, oh, Emma." Snow automatically reached for her hand. "Emma, this is Sir Lancelot. He helped your father and I overthrow George. Lancelot, my daughter - Emma."
Lancelot gave her a low bow. "Welcome back, your highness."
Emma gave him an awkward smile. "Thank you."
"Lancelot tells me that our castle remains untouched," Snow said with a smile.
"Untouched but across ogre country," Lancelot said. "You can't make the trip by yourselves, and I'll need a better reason than nostalgia to authorise a whole party."
"He has a point," Emma said. "Why is it so important that we get there?"
Snow smiled at her. "Because the wardrobe that took you to safety might just have enough magic left in it to create a portal to Storybrooke."