A/N:
1) Please accept my sincerest apologies for the lengthy delay in chapters. I know I always say that, but please know that I work on this story a little bit almost every day… it's just sometimes "a little bit" means changing a word or two. Life is busy, and to be honest, I've been really struggling with this. I don't want to throw something up just for the sake of adding a chapter… so I hope it is worth the wait.
2) A few things from reviews:
- Re: why Emma always refers to the baby as "he" - good catch. Not accidental… you'll get the answer soon.
- Re: Regina - I, too, love her development on the show. Unfortunately, that's not something that really fits into this story (or my next, to be honest… although I did try to acknowledge her role back in Bent.) Not only do we have the backstory that we know from the show, but in this AU the curse failed and she's been in exile for almost two decades - so wherever she is, I would imagine she's angrier than ever at the Charmings. Not a good combination for an already-Evil Queen!
- Re: calling for Rumplestiltskin… One of the things I've tried to be mindful of in this story is that ultimately, Emma & Bae are still teenagers. Like all teenagers, sometimes impulsivity and pridefulness stand in the way of common sense. Sure, calling Rumple would probably be wise… but Bae is still very angry at his father and I would guess that at this point it would take a dire threat to Emma (or Henry) in order for him to rely on him. While his hurt is slightly less than in canon (since Rumple did, finally, get him out of Neverland,) Rumple's pattern of "fix everything with magic/stuff" continued once Bae got back and I think it's going to take some major effort on Rumple's part to overcome that. In the meantime, for all of their wisdom they are still effectively teenagers who ran off and eloped. Running home to Mom & Dad for the sake of their kid is a hard enough pill to swallow, but making the "phone call" to be picked up and taken home is even harder. Teenagers are prideful, stubborn, and have all of the answers… and that especially rings true for these teenagers.
- Lastly, re: Belle - She's not forgotten. We'll get around to her eventually, and although I claim no skill at writing Rumbelle, they will have a teeny tiny side story that factors in in a big way. There have been a couple of Belle-related items sprinkled throughout the tale… she's always been planned to pop up towards the end. Would have loved to draw her in sooner, but it's hard with our main characters on the run!
Hope you enjoy. Feedback always welcome.
-DSB
Leaving a homestead - moving on - wasn't new to the duo, of course. But leaving the cottage and then the cave hadn't been by choice - there had been danger, it had been immediate, and they'd had to go. And while leaving the cabin was, in its own way, not a choice - certainly Emma saw it as a necessity - the sense of urgency was far diminished. This meant the morning of their departure could be met with reluctance; despite the fact that their bags were packed and their bellies as full as they'd be getting, they lingered still.
Bae was in the process of checking - and rechecking - every crevice of the house to ensure they forgot nothing of importance. Emma remained at the table, merely poking at her greenery as she did her best to delay their departure. Part of him was growing impatient - the longer they delayed, the longer the journey would take - but a still larger part of him understood.
Finally completing final checks of the cabin, he sunk down at the table next to his wife. "Want to talk about it?"
She shrugged.
"C'mon, you've been stalling all morning. You said we should go - now you don't want to?"
She shrugged again, studying her asparagus as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
He leaned back in the chair before shrugging back. "Well enough. I'm in no rush. We can sit here until you're ready to talk."
She groaned, shifting sideways on the chair as she folded her arms onto the table and laid her head on them. He held his ground, waiting with feigned patience for her answer. Eventually she caved. "I don't - it's not -" She pushed out a breath, frustrated at her loss for words. Trying once again, she had more success. "This is our home, Bae. It's a lousy excuse for a dwelling, tiny and rotting around us, but it's ours. We need to go back - I know - but…" She sighed again. "It's hard to leave a life we're perfectly content in for that."
He squinted at her. "And what's that?"
"Lives that we were miserable in. I didn't even know that I was unhappy - didn't occur to me that there was greater happiness in life than my destined path. But to go back to the regimented protocols, the regulations just because -" She shook her head. "We'll go - the safely of our child is paramount - but I wish it wasn't a choice."
Bae shrugged. "Then why does it have to be? We've each other to rely on now - no more loneliness - and I may be wrong, but something tells me you've enough status to turn those rules on their heads. You're one of the smartest & most capable women I've ever met. If there's anyone to lead a revolution from inside her own kingdom, it's you."
She snorted. "Revolution's a bit strong. My parents retired the armies years ago."
"Revolutions don't have to be wars," he said. "Things can be transformed with a few well-placed words. If you don't like the policies of the kingdom… change them." She looked at him skeptically, and he shrugged again. "You said it yourself - you're not such a child anymore. The resolve you've shown since we left home - there's no reason to leave that in Lincolnshire."
She grunted, conceding. "You'll be by my side?"
"Every step of the way." He stood, offering his hand, and as she took it, he continued. "Though I've every confidence you could do it with or without my assistance."
"Easier with."
"Everything is, dear heart, that's why we've walked this road together." He afforded one last look around the cabin. "If you want our child to be raised in a kingdom with the spirit of this cabin, it's on us to make it so."
She nodded and they began walking towards the door. After a few steps, Emma turned to stare back at the cabin for a moment, chewing on her lip. Finally she spoke, a coarse whisper. "I'm gonna miss it, Bae."
He squeezed her hand. "I know."
And with that they headed north, beginning to retrace the steps that had brought them out to Lincolnshire.
A few days into the journey, they woke with the dawn, a byproduct of the previous night's uncharitable accommodations.
After walking to the point of exhaustion, they had finally tucked themselves away in a peach grove, a divot between some roots serving as a poor substitute for a bed. Still, fatigue had won out, and with satchels and each others' arms to pad the worst of it they'd managed enough sleep to propel them forward another day.
Upon awakening, Emma looked over at Bae, finding his head lolled awkwardly back. After gazing at him for a few moments, she raised her arm and gently traced his jawline with the back of her fingers.
"Hmm?" he said, the noise buried in an exhale, but he shifted slightly. She cringed as he let out a groan, instinctively rolling his head in an attempt to banish the stiff neck he'd undoubtedly woken with.
As he cracked open his eyes, and she pulled a face in sympathy. "Ouch."
"Not my best night's sleep," he agreed.
She frowned, pulling herself upright so that he could sit up and stretch. As he did so, Emma inhaled sharply, her surprise betrayed by the silence. Bae looked over at her, brow furrowed. "What is it?"
"The oddest sensation… the last few mornings I've felt it. Almost like a fit of nerves."
"The babe?"
"Must be." She turned to look back at her husband. "There's really someone in there, isn't there?"
He smiled, not a toothy grin, but one that reached the crinkles around his eyes. "Seems so."
"It's astonishing… A year ago we'd not even met, and now, a child... fates have a way of turning things we'd never anticipate."
"Is that a complaint?"
"Hardly! The girl I was a year ago could never have imagined this. Not the adventure, not the falling in love… certainly not the heir. That was a duty to endure, not a happy accident of fate."
He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head as he stood, brushing dirt and debris from his pants before beginning to stretch again. As he did so, he looked around, noticing for the first time the fruit on the trees in the orchard where they'd laid for slumber.
"Look, Em - peaches."
She glanced around, eyes lighting up at the prospect of fresh peaches. It took no more than a moment to settle on picking a few - surely the owner wouldn't notice a half dozen missing - and tucking most of them away for later. All but the one Emma snatched, claiming it as breakfast.
As they began to walk, she began devouring her find. Bae chuckled, watching her attempt to contend with the juice dripping down her chin and failing miserably. He hadn't been all that hungry when he woke, but by the time they'd found a stream to clean her up, that was a different story. While he rinsed off the remaining fruit, Emma rooted through their bag, finally coming up with a handful of goosefoot.
She bent to wash it off and Bae wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I don't know how you can eat that."
She shrugged. "It's not so bad. It was better cooked with some meat, but right now... it's food. We don't exactly have the king's banquet here," she said as she gestured at the empty wilderness around them. "And I'm hungry."
He frowned. "You shouldn't have to be scavenging for food like this. I should be providing for you better."
She rolled her eyes. "Looks to me like you're holding peaches that you picked just this morning."
"That's hardly a balanced meal."
She walked over, placing a finger across his lips to silence his protests. "Bae, we're doing fine. All of us. We'll be to my parents in a couple of days and we have plenty to subsist on until then." She smiled. "We could do a lot worse than goosefoot. At least it's not asparagus."
"I suppose," he said with a laugh.
Growing silent, she picked at the greenery in her hand. After absentmindedly staring for a few moments, she caught his gaze. "Did you know it has another name? Goosefoot, I mean."
"Lincolnshire spinach?"
"Well... yes. But aside from that."
He shook his head, puzzled.
"It's also known as Good King Henry." She paused for a moment. "What do you think of that?"
"It's an... odd name for a plant?"
She laughed. "Well, yeah - but I wasn't talking about the plant's name, silly. Henry. As a name."
He shrugged. "I'd never given it much thought, honestly."
"I was thinking, just... he'll be king some day. And I'd like to think he'll be a good king to the people, that we'll raise him to be kind and fair. And, you know, I've eaten an awful lot of goosefoot these last months..."
"We could certainly give it consideration," he said. "You wouldn't want to name a son after your father?"
"No. We already have a David, whatever would we do with two?"
He nodded. "A reasonable objection."
"Nor am I naming him Baelfire the second. No offense."
He let out an indignant laugh. "I wouldn't have been offended until you insinuated I should be!"
"Sorry, Bae. It's just... rather unique."
"Another reasonable objection, I suppose. We wouldn't want the small one to be taunted by his royal chums."
"No, indeed," she said with a laugh. "Best to give him something a bit more traditional."
"Henry," he repeated. "It could grow on me."
She nodded, slipping her free hand into his as she finished her snack. They walked like this for a while, until Bae broke a comfortable silence.
"Emma, may I ask you something?"
"Anything, you know that."
His brow furrowed. "Why is it always 'he'?"
"Hmm?"
"Every time you refer to the child, you say 'he.' Never once have I heard you give allowance that we might have a daughter. Why is that?"
"Oh," she replied, blushing a bit. "It's silly, really."
"I'm sure not. I've never known you to operate based upon a whim."
She raised an eyebrow. "Never? Really?" He shrugged, flashing her a cheeky grin before she launched into her story. "I don't know, maybe it's silly… My mother has a pendant - given to her by my grandmother, and her mother before. Supposedly it can tell what your firstborn will be, even before they're on the way.
"When I was young - six or seven, maybe - my mother was sharing the story with a dear friend of hers, telling her about how my grandmother had shared it with her - it's how she knew I was to be a girl, rather than a boy as my father believed. The story made me curious, so I snuck into her room and took it out of her jewelry box. It swung the direction - north to south, I think, it's been so long I can't recall. My mother would know. In any event, it indicated that some day I'd have a little boy."
"I see. Is that your preference?"
She squinted, considering. "I've expected to have a son so long I don't think I'd ever put a lot of thought into what I'd prefer. Right now, safe and healthy is good enough for me. I've no need to be choosy." She paused for a moment before looking over at him. "You?"
"Much the same - just that the child be safe and healthy. His mother, too."
She squeezed his hand. "We're a good quarter of the way now. Another week or so until we'll be back to the castle - and all will be well."
"So this revolution of yours…"
"What?" The statement had been out of the blue, startling Emma out of her reverie. She'd lost track of the days of the walking, but Bae swore they were within three or four days of home. Her feet were killing her - she might have been even more anxious to get rid of her boots than of the flowing dress she'd been wearing for far longer than any human should be in the same clothes. Before she could get too wrapped up in feeling sorry for herself, Bae responded.
"Your revolution -"
"Ohhh no." She wheeled on him. "Our revolution."
He rolled his eyes. "I promised to be by your side… but it's your kingdom, dear heart. The subjects will be looking for leadership from their beloved princess, not the unknown boy from the Frontlands that she's married."
"Bae, I've told you, you're a-"
"Prince, I know. But prince-by-marriage doesn't hold the same esteem as the princess they've watched blossom into a lovely young woman."
"And don't tell them you're from the Frontlands. That area was carved into other territories over a century ago."
He grinned. "Don't relish explaining my storied journey?"
"Doesn't exactly inspire the confidence necessary for a revolution." She paused, thinking for a moment. "And can we come up with another title? Revolution sounds so…"
"Drastic?"
"Bloody."
He shrugged, scuffing a toe in the dirt. "Any suggestions?"
"No moreso than for the rest of it." A pause and then, "I don't relish the idea of quarreling with my parents. I just… a child should grow up knowing the world's open to him."
"Henry."
"Hm?"
"Henry, especially. As parents" - and wasn't that its own funny concept - "it's our responsibility to make sure he knows it."
She raised an eyebrow. "You've come around to the name, then? We don't have to - we've got some time -"
"No, I like it. Carries our time from Lincolnshire with him, and what we hope for his life."
She smiled. "And if we should have a daughter?"
He grinned. "Henry, too." After her laugh, he continued. "You're confident we won't."
She grew quiet. "I suppose. But if I should be wrong-"
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, just as we have all of the others. And just as we will your revolution."
"Ours - and, really?"
"Would you prefer a mutiny? A rebellion?"
She laughed. "Perhaps just a change in thinking, you know, a transformation from the old ways to the new. Choices for our tiny prince, prosperity for the people…" She trailed off. "I don't know. What do I know about being a good leader? Probably little more than I know about being a mother, and yet here we are."
He gave her hand a squeeze. "No one can know until they're in it, can they? What business do I have being a husband, let alone a father or - as you're so keen to remind me - a prince?"
She stopped, turning to look at him and placing a gentle hand on his face. "Bae, you're a wonderful husband. And father, already - it's clear that you adore the youngling. And the rest will come in time, you know it will."
"As it will with you," he said firmly, placing his hands atop her shoulders. "Don't you see? All of this confidence you insist you have in me - I see the same in you, and more. So much more." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, releasing her shoulders and grabbing her hand as he began to walk once more. "It will come in time, all of it. I swear it to you. Mothering our child - changing the kingdom to make sure he grows up healthy and well. Your revolution will start from within - teaching Henry how much he's loved and ruling the kingdom in a way that shows him how he ought to be. That's your legacy for your child, dear heart, so decide now what kind of world you want to leave for him. I'll do my best to help you achieve it."
"Look there," Bae said, pointing at a low building across the horizon.
"Another barn?" Emma asked, wrinkling her nose.
Bae shook his head. "I believe it's carriage house. Far more hospitable and well-suited for a princess."
Emma snorted. "If it's not an open orchard, I'll take it." A pause and then, "At this point, I'd even take the orchard."
Bae chuckled, taking her hand. "C'mon. Let's see what we can find inside."
They made quick work of the meadow, easing along the far side of the building before slipping inside the barely-cracked door. Dusky light filtered through small, high windows, illuminating the shapes of plows and tills and the odd hay wagon. In the corner, against the old barn door, lie a carriage - mustard in color, gold gilding at the edges. It had been magnificent once, but the moth-eaten brocade inside told the tale of its demise. Still, it would do for sleeping - and even moth-eaten benches had more cushion than tree roots.
Their eyes met and quickly they reached a wordless understanding. Bae climbed up, testing the solidity of the floor as he went: it held. He reached down to help Emma up, then dug the blankets out of his satchel as she slipped her feet from her boots and curled onto the bench. He tucked her in, kissing her briefly even as her eyes began to flutter shut. "Sweet dreams, my love."
She grunted in response as he curled onto his own bench, moments later joining his wife in dreamland.
"No! Please don't!"
Emma awakened with a start, the shout an unfamiliar jolt to the system. She nearly toppled off of the narrow carriage bench, an arm against the wall catching her just in time. She couldn't remember the last time Bae had cried out in his sleep - not since they'd arrived in Lincolnshire, she was certain. Perhaps not since they'd been in the cave.
She moved herself across the carriage to crouch next to her husband, taking caution to avoid the jerking of his limbs as he fought off the invisible enemies of his nightmare. She grasped his hand in her own, giving it a squeeze as she ran her other hand down his cheek. "Bae... sweetheart, it's okay, I'm here." He twisted a bit and she raised her voice, repeating his name again. Slivers of brown eyes were her reward, as he peered at her, pulling in a gasp of breath.
"Emma?"
"I'm right here. It's okay. Just a dream."
He nearly toppled off the bench on top of her, so fiercely did he toss his arms around her. "You're okay," came the muffled voice from her shoulder. "You're both okay."
"Of course we are," she said, fingers combing through his hair. "We're not going anywhere."
He clung to her a few moments longer before his grip loosened and he struggled back onto the bench. He gazed at her for a moment, then dropped his eyes, fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns on the bench. "I'm sorry. You need your rest. I shouldn't have woken you."
Clambering to sit next to him, she caught his chin in her hand and gave a firm shake of her head. "Don't be ridiculous. You can't help the nightmares. They come with the territory... I've been aware of that for a very long time." Brow furrowing, she continued. "I'm rather afraid it wouldn't be prudent to light a candle in here, though."
"No," he replied, the faintest hint of a smile appearing on his lips. "We'll have to forgo the candle this time." They sat in silence for a moment before he continued, voice small and tentative, like a little boy. "Will you stay with me?"
"Of course," Emma replied, heart breaking at his plea. He slid to the far end of the bench, pillowing her head in his lap and tugging the blanket over her curled up legs.
"You'll never sleep like that," she said, craning her neck to look up at him.
"Better like this than with you across the carriage," he replied, and given his recent display she conceded the point without much fuss.
There was silence for a minute or two, but the lack of deep and regular breathing indicated a lack of slumber in the carriage. Threading locks of blonde through his fingers, Bae spoke into the silence. "It was different this time." He could feel Emma's breath catch, her silence offering reverence for his story. "Henry... he'd been lost, we couldn't find him. He was so little still, just a little boy, all brown hair and wide eyes, and he'd disappeared. And then you were gone too and I just..." He shuddered. "I've been alone so long, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."
She shook her head "It won't happen, Bae. You have my word."
He sighed. The breath tickled at the side of her neck and she looked up. "Do you doubt my word?"
There was silence for a moment, and she could practically feel him wrestling with his answer. Tentatively, he spoke. "I trust you more than anyone, Emma." Yet she could sense there was more.
"But?"
More silence, until finally, "There's not a but. As long as you're here, I'm okay."
She turned her head enough to press a kiss to his knee. "I'm here."
Two days later, they'd stopped by a market to grab a snack. As they reached the edge of the gathering, they heard the voice of a hay merchant, gesturing towards his wagon - "I really should make haste - I'm due to make Northpass by supper."
Emma, hearing the name of her parents' town, stopped dead in her tracks. She caught Bae's eye, mouthing "Northpass?" He shrugged, and she tilted her head towards the back flap of the hay wagon. Northpass was at least a day yet - her parents' castle a bit beyond - and spending that day riding instead of walking sounded divine. Perhaps they could be home by nightfall!
The wagon's driver went to mount the horse. In a split-second judgement, she grabbed Bae's hand and tugged him to the back of the wagon. Clambering on, she scooted over, and he joined her just as the wagon lurched forward.
The ride was, all things considered, not terrible. The road was mostly smooth and the hay proved a comfortable place to rest; even Bae joined Emma in intermittent slumber - not shocking, considering the week they'd had. Conversation was kept to a minimum.
Hours into the journey, the wagon began to slow. Emma leaned forward, peering out of the flaps - feeling Bae's hand grab the back of her tunic to ensure she didn't tumble. "Nearing Northpass," she whispered. "Nearly twice as fast as it would have been on foot." But there was a hint of something in her voice, not of excitement, but rather resignation. She looked up at Bae, swallowing thickly. "Almost home."
He nodded, reaching across to give her hand a squeeze. "It was the right call."
She nodded in return. She stared vacantly at the flaps of the wagon for a moment, then whipped back around, wide-eyed, to look at Bae. "Oh no - inspections."
"What?"
"Anytime a trade good is brought to town, it stops for inspections. Holdover from the war, I guess. We'll be found for certain, arrested for thieving!"
He lifted the corner of the flap, peering out at the ground below them. "It's not far. We're beginning to slow, we can jump. Might smart a bit, but we'll be okay."
She bit her lip. "I can't…"
He drew back, chagrined. "Oh."
She thought for a moment, chewing on her lip, before formulating a plan. "But you can. Hop off, meet me at my parents' as soon as you're able."
"But you'll be arrested!"
She grinned. "I'm the princess, right? Might as well make use of my title. They won't hold me long. Just long enough to celebrate my safe return."
He furrowed. "I don't like it."
"It'll be fine. We'll be all right, Bae."
He opened his mouth to protest, but the wagon began to slow further and Emma gave his shoulder a shove. "Go. Any closer to town and they'll surely see you." His brow furrowed as he looked between her and the flap and she shot him a look. "Go."
He frowned, resigned, before leaning in for a quick, desperate kiss. "I love you," he said - a statement of fact, a reminder, a promise. And then, before she could tell him she'd see him at the castle, he was gone.