"Her Something Borrowed"
"Oh Emma," Mary Margaret gushed, a wide, beaming smile splitting her lovely face and infectiously drawing her daughter into her proud glee. "I'm just so happy for you!"
Though her smile didn't fade, Emma saw her mother's eyes glistening a bit as she continued to hold her gaze, and her petite hands trembled the tiniest bit as they took hold of Emma's to squeeze affectionately.
"What is it, Mom?" Emma asked, patting Mary Margaret's hand atop hers comfortingly.
"It's…it's just…" here the rightful queen of the Enchanted Forest sniffled just a bit and bowed her dark head, hiding her eyes from Emma for a moment or two. When she looked up again, her gaze was once more clear and happy, even if her soft voice quavered a bit. "This is all I ever wanted for you, Emma. Tomorrow my baby girl is marrying her True Love…I just wish I had been there for you all along the way. You're a princess, and you should have grown up loved and adored. You father and I had so much we wanted to show you. We wanted to teach you to ride horses, to dance, to swordfight, to shoot arrows, to give you your first crown, and to laugh and love. Now, you're going to be someone's wife; you're all grown up and we've only been in your life for a couple of years."
The raven-haired woman wipes her eyes, as they have grown suspiciously wet again, and smiles apologetically at her daughter. They have been sitting in the loft trying hairstyles for the last couple hours, Emma unable to make up her mind on what would go with her simple cream dress and a wedding on the sandy shoreline. She knows her mom isn't trying to dampen the mood or make her feel guilty; she just loves Emma and regrets all the time they lost. Emma can understand the pain, if not the guilt, but she can't turn back time, and she is more focused on her nerves for tomorrow.
Killian had agreed with her every wish: for a simple, relaxed ceremony at the water's edge (he had quite liked that one), for the guest list to remain small (despite the whole town wanting to attend the Savior's wedding), and the ceremony short, and for them to dispense with foofy dresses and three-piece suits. She is no blushing innocent by this stage in her life and had never really dreamed of a fancy wedding anyway, and Killian will look unfairly, breathtakingly handsome no matter what he wears. She is wearing a lovely, cap-sleeved dress that flirts and flares at her knees with a delicate lace overlay. It's elegant and demure but not at all overdone.
Though she knows Killian loves it when she leaves her hair cascading down her back in waves, and she would normally give him his preference, Emma feels like a day this special shold call for something different than her ordinary style. They are mostly attempting updos on her hair, and she has settled on the one she sports now – swept up in much the way it had looked at the ball she and Killian attended in the past. That seemed almost fitting to Emma, as if it had been that adventure which finally forced her to recognize Killian would always come after her, always find her and stand by her, and that had allowed her to finally open her heart to him completely.
"You know…" Mary Margaret whispers, breaking into Emma's reverie and trailing off as she stands and goes to her closet, beginning to search through boxes on the overhead shelf. "All grown up now or not, I may still be able to do one of those things I wanted to do for my princess daughter."
Emma's eyes widen when Mary Margaret turns back around holding a velvet-lined box, open to display a sparkling, crystal-covered circlet – certainly a tiara, but not huge or overwhelming. Despite her plain and simple preferences, Emma can't help loving it. It's beautiful.
"This was my first crown," Snow explains wistfully. "I wanted to give it to you on your thirteenth birthday, just as my mother did for me. But…maybe you could wear it tomorrow? If you'd like…"
Emma nods, speechless and touched by how much the offering means to her mother. The chance to share at least one of the traditions they had missed is a bit overwhelming. Happy tears flood her eyes now right along with her mom's, and they embrace, both sniffing and then giggling a bit at themselves as they pull apart once more.
When Emma can speak normally again, she gives Mary Margaret a half-smile and adds jokingly. "Besides, Killian will love it. He's a pirate after all – reformed or not – and that tiara is quite the treasure."