a/n: The last chapter of "Princesses!" I'm actually very glad to have this one in the bag; I hate having stuff hanging over my head. :)

For those of you looking for the last update to "Wonderful," I wrote this last night instead. Oops. You'll have to wait another day or two. :)

Let me know what you think, dear readers, with a review! Thanks for reading.

Chapter 7: Happily Ever After

After his rather poorly-executed audience with the queen, Aaron had stormed from the palace in an angry haze. Now he found himself at the spot where he'd met the old woman three days earlier. It seemed like a lifetime ago, truly told. He stood staring at the palace for several heartbeats before he let his gaze drift to take in the parched fields, the desiccated orchards. He wondered if anyone could bring life back to this land. He hoped the queen would wake up from her fog of grief and fear. He wished…his thoughts trailed off as he noticed the cloud of dust on the road.

It was a lone rider, tall but slight, with dark hair left to stream out behind her. His mouth curved in a smile as he settled down to wait. "This should be interesting," he murmured.

Emily was riding hell-for-leather, and she almost passed him. She reined in at the last minute; her horse stopped on a dime. Aaron spared a moment to be impressed at the well-trained, beautifully bred animal before he squinted up at the princess silhouetted by the sun. "My lady Emily," he greeted her cordially.

"Don't you 'lady Emily' me," she snapped. She dismounted with impossible grace and began tugging off her leather riding gloves. "I know you've had a tough life, Aaron. I know that this kingdom isn't the greatest prize in the world. I know my sisters and I didn't exactly make the best impression, but you didn't have to just leave! How could you!? You might be a great many things, not all of them good, but you never seemed like a coward.

"You came into our home, you learned things about us that we don't tell anyone, you…you…gained our…affection and our…our…trust, and then you just skulked away!" She pointed an accusing finger in his face. "Skulked!" she repeated furiously. "You could have at least told us that the idea of marrying one of us made you quake in your perfectly-polished boots."

"Dear lady Emily, if you'd just let me explain—"

"Explain!?" she interrupted. "Explain what? That there's a drought? That we're in debt up to our eyeballs? That we've burned through all of our neighbors' good will by engaging in a ridiculous war for the last ten years? That the new peace is tenuous at best, and it'll need a strong and steady hand to keep it? You don't think I know all of that? I am my mother's eldest daughter, and one day I'll be queen. I intend to be a good one."

"You'll be a splendid queen," he agreed quietly.

"Yes, and I'll be a queen with no king if that's what it takes!"

"That would be a shame, princess."

She whirled away in wordless fury. His apparent condescension seemed ridiculously cruel and unnecessary; she'd never thought he had it in him. At least she'd found out now, before…before…before what? Before nothing. He was leaving, and she shouldn't let it surprise her.

The silence lengthened, and he turned to study the uninspiring vista once again. "I was contemplating dams."

"What a coincidence," she grumbled. "I was damning you."

He cleared his throat to hide amusement. "I just mean…I didn't leave, Emily. I came up here because this hill has the best view."

She went still as the meaning of his words registered, then slowly swiveled to face him. "What are you talking about?" she asked, dark eyes narrow. "Mother said—"

"Ah, well, I don't think I'm your mother's favorite person at the moment. I was rather harsh with her. Probably wasn't the best way to treat one's future mother-in-law."

Her face went blank. "Future mother-in-law?" she parroted.

"Emily," he said softly, stepping toward her and cupping her face in his large, rough hands, "you're right about me. You're right about this kingdom. But I was thinking…I'm not afraid of a challenge if you aren't."

Midnight eyes fogged and the stern line of her mouth softened. She couldn't be hearing him right; there had to be some mistake. "I don't understand, Aaron. What are you saying?"

"The idea of marrying you does make me quake in my perfectly-polished boots. You've a temper on you, Emily, and you're not afraid to show it. You've a sharp, quick mind, and a cutting sense of humor. You're stubborn and you're dedicated and you're fierce. I've never met another woman like you, and now that I know you, I know no other woman will do for me."

"I…what??" Her face creased and she pulled back; pushed his hands away. "Is that your idea of a proposal? You're scared of me? No one else will do?! Why don't you just pick up that flea-ridden bag of yours and be on your way, because we've no need of you around here!"

"Very well," he replied. He lifted his bag (it was completely free of fleas, thank you) and reached inside. His hand emerged clutching a perfect red apple, and he tossed it to her; in her astonishment she caught it without thinking. "I love you, Emily. I just met you, but there are some things a body just knows."

She swallowed; stared down at the fruit in her hand. A blush began to rise on her cheeks. She looked back up at him; met his piercing gaze with her own challenging one. "An apple," she said in an almost-question.

"A promise," he explained. "That apple wasn't grown here, but one day we'll grow them again. We'll make this land what it once was. It won't be easy, but nothing worth it is."

"You didn't leave," she whispered after a moment.

"No," he said quietly, stepping to her again.

"You love me."

"Yes."

A tear trickled down her cheek, and she wiped it away impatiently. "Yes," she echoed in a choked whisper.

"Yes…what?" he asked, dimples emerging as a grin began to unfurl across his face.

"Yes I'll marry you, you impossible man. Yes I love you."

He pulled her to him, and as their lips met a soft, steady rain began falling from a previously clear sky. The sudden shower limned the world in dream-like silver, and both soldier and princess knew it was a beautiful promise of things to come. They pulled apart, laughing, and reveled in the joy of new beginnings.

The boy had fallen asleep a little over half way through the story, but the father had continued telling it. Now he gently settled his son into bed and pulled the blankets over him. He rested a strong hand on the soft little cheek a moment, his face warmed by a gentle, glowing smile. The boy's mother stepped out of the shadows where he'd seen her lurking and into the small pool of light cast by the single lamp. "Still his favorite story, I see," she said softly.

"Mine, too," the man told her, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her with an easy, adoring familiarity.

"I think the soldier got the best end of that particular deal," she said, amusement glinting in her ochre eyes.

"I don't know; the princess did pretty well for herself, too."

She laughed quietly and tossed him an apple from the bowl kept full of them. "I think they both did well. Come on, soldier mine; let's go to bed."

"As my queen commands," he replied with a roguish grin and an exaggerated bow. He took a large bite of the fresh fruit and followed her low, warm laughter from the room where their son slept the sweet, peaceful sleep of the happily innocent.

Those of you who have been eagerly awaiting this chapter have chiroho to thank. His gentle persuasion (hmm...) in his recent review for "Isn't It Wonderful?" inspired me to quit procrastinating and just finish the thing already!

I never intended for Hotch to "just pick one;" as an early reviewer pointed out, that's a pretty sexist aspect of this story. While I'm not generally a revisionist (ie, if an old story is sexist, it's a product of its time...), but since this is my version in my AU, I decided to do a bit of revising. :)

I hope you enjoyed this little fairy tale; drop me a review and let me know. :)