AN: So I know I have another story I've been working on for a bit, but I kept getting sidetracked by this little bug in my head, so since I have the problem of being absolutely obsessed with this show, I wanted to finally get this out after 3 weeks lol. For right now, it's a one shot, but I have some ideas for more on this front if I so choose. I'd really like to get my other WIP progressed a bit. However, I need some fluff between Charming and Emma so this is what I got. Hope you like

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"A Ball?"

The tone of Emma's voice was one of dry incredulity. The corners of Snow White's lips twitched in something akin to amusement, but she held the smile at bay as her daughter turned to her.

"Yes. A ball." Snow replied very matter of fact and now let the smile go, this one in reassurance. She looped her arm in Emma's bent one and began to walk with her through the garden of the castle courtyard, and Emma followed, an expression of bewilderment on her face. No one walked like this in real life.

Except, she supposed, they must, since this was now her real life. She let her eyes drift to the sky to peer at one of the spiral towers of the grand castle, where Henry stayed. He was probably entertaining Jiminy or speaking with James; she felt bad that there were few other boys close that were his age. Pinocchio-Lord, she felt ridiculous even saying that-was 7 or 8, so sometimes they would visit, but mostly he kept to himself, as he had before. She wished he had some friends to play with.

"...Emma, are you even listening to me?"

Snow's voice came sharply and snapped her out of her reverie. "I...yeah, I am, I was just...wondering about Henry."

"Well, he could come too." She replied. "You don't think we'd leave him out, do you?"

Emma forced a smile. "No. No, of course not."

Snow resumed her excited chattering and Emma kept her pace, a sigh waiting to escape. It wasn't that she wasn't happy; she was often almost brought to tears when she really would sit down and think of how her life had changed in one short year. It definitely was strange-an understatement if she ever knew one. Her parents were still her age, so it was difficult to see them as anything other than very good friends, but she would sometimes catch them looking at her in such a way...

The sigh escaped and Snow stopped. She seemed to sense something was the matter and her face fell a little. "This is too much, isn't it?"

"No! No, it's wonderful, Mare, really." She reassured, and saw her mother flinch at the name. That was another thing she had to get used to; James was not so difficult, but Mary was so close to her that Snow was a difficult change to make. And she could never imagine calling them Mother or Father. For now, it was just too weird.

"Snow." She began again calmly. "It's just still very much to get used to." She began, and Snow watched her with wide eyes. "But, it would be a wonderful time, I'm sure. It's been a few weeks; it would be great to see everyone again. Like Ashley & Sean. They could bring Alexandra!"

"Ella and Thomas, Emma." She corrected. "And you're right, they could. After all, we have..."

She faded off, and grew sad for a moment and Emma cursed herself. Goddammit. They had come back across, and into the castle, the same room in which they had been when the curse had been cast. Snow in her white dress, James in his bloodied tunic, the Witch nowhere to be found, and Emma, clutching Henry with every ounce she had.

Amongst stuffed animals sat a crib, freshly carved and furnished, and a beautiful mobile that was all too familiar to everyone. Snow had taken a look around the room before her eyes had landed on Emma, full of tears before James had taken her in his arms and Emma and Henry had left them to themselves. They hadn't spoken of it since, but Emma knew what it was.

It was meant to be hers and now it was to be empty for years, unless or until Snow and James had another. But it was never used as it was meant, and although it was there, the Royal Nursery...it felt strange to fill it with another child.

Snow shook her head though, shaking away thoughts that she was afraid Emma could hear. "I'm going to go start drafting a guest list. Do you want to come?"

Emma smiled softly. "Could I...can I stay out here a bit longer? The fresh air is nice."

Snow smiled back. "Of course. You'll be up for dinner though, right?"

"Probably before then."

Snow grabbed her hand for a moment and squeezed. "I'm so happy you're home."

Emma could only smile in response and squeeze back, before Snow released it and walked away, a weight relieved from Emma's shoulder with every step. She did love Snow, but this was overwhelming. She almost longed for the days of her lonely apartment in Boston, with her glasses of wine and reruns of Grey's Anatomy (when it was good).

She bid her time. She explored the gardens a bit more-hedge with white and red roses, red flamingos decorating the scenery. A beautiful archway, lined with vines and white flowers. She smiled just to look at it against the blue sky. It was beautiful here; she could not help but imagine what her life could have been like had it not been for the Queen.

"It's kind of you to indulge her."

Emma closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, and his footsteps that followed. It wasn't that she didn't like James; she loved him, but this was a much easier transition with Mar-Snow! Dammit, Snow. Mother?

She just didn't know; but she had been her friend. Her close friend, and David...well, David had been someone that she had not liked very much for a time there, so this adjustment was...different.

She turned to him, a wide smile on her face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He smirked back. "Oh really?" He began walking and gestured her with him. They still had a few hours of daylight left, so she followed.

"Henry?" She asked.

"Just wiped the floor with me in a sword fight. Wooden sword fight." He supplied at her alarmed look. "He's spending some time with Jiminy now."

Emma nodded, and met his step. "And the rest of your day?"

He smiled at her again, a smile that she felt break on her own face. Dammit he knew her already; avoidance was a tactic long used by Emma Swan. "Am I that transparent?"

He chuckled. "Only to those who do the same." He stepped into the wooded area and held out his arm to steady her as she followed onto the trail. It was rough entering the forest and the wedge shoes and long gown made of light fabric did not help at all. She did have to admit though; she liked the long sleeves, whose hem drew out far past her hands.

"You look lovely." He said with a smile, as if he was thinking the same as her and she flushed under his gaze. She was not used to that sort of appreciation from a man, who looked at a woman not as some object of his desire but with pride and love. The way she knew she looked at Henry.

"Thanks." She laughed it off nervously and dropped his hand as they entered flat ground. They walked in silence for a bit, and Emma admired the scenery. She had been here for 3 weeks-3 weeks since the nightmare had ended, since the Witch had been entrapped in a world between reality and this place, to live out eternity alone. A small price, Emma believed, for what she had cost her family. She shivered at the thought; it would've been wonderful to grow up here.

"Are you cold?" He asked, eyebrows furrowing. She shook her head in silence.

"It's just...very, very beautiful here." She replied finally, looking around. "I can't help but wonder..."

She didn't have to finish. Quick rage sparked within James, but he was quick to temper it. It would only make her feel worse, he knew, to have him lash out against the Evil Queen and if they were going to get past this, they had to move through the anger and sadness the fallout from the curse provided. But he too, could not but think of the way life could have been.

"You'll drive yourself crazy." She pointed out. He met her eyes, and realized that she was very good at reading him as well.

"I'm sorry; I don't mean to react that way. It seems we're all having a bit of trouble adjusting to being back home."

"Yeah. Home." She mused with a sigh, the word foreign in her mouth; she wondered if home to her would always be that dingy old yellow Beatle she had left behind. Her eyes found the tree line as she walked. "It's definitely a lot to take in."

And he knew it was. She had been raised in a world where children weren't regularly taught how to dance, or sew or ride horses out of necessity, but for hobbies; and that was probably especially true of a child bounced around in the foster care system. It pained him deeply to face that fact, but he knew that Emma was probably forced to grow up much before she should have. But her discomfort at the sudden requirements of being royalty, well that...that was something he knew a bit about.

"I may understand." He offered. Her lips formed a wry smirk, her blue eyes sliding to meet his.

"Oh yeah? Would you?" Her eyes found her hands as they walked; she picked at her nails. "Someone who grew up as a royal; you were probably going to balls and fighting fake dragons since you could hold a sword."

He chuckled, but it wasn't such a happy one this time. When she looked up at the noise, he appeared to be staring far off, to a place she couldn't see, a sad smile on his face. She felt bad. "I didn't mean..."

"No, it's alright. I can understand how you would come to that conclusion." He smiled now, for real, slowly and so all his teeth showed. "Don't you want to know where we're going?"

"I assumed you would lead the way." And it occurred to her, almost strangely, that she had not even doubted or mistrusted his judgment. She had never been like that in Boston; always in control, always wary of others and what their true intentions were. But not of him. She followed behind, biting her lip. She didn't know what else to say.

He smiled at her, and her nerves eased as he slowed to match her pace. "Well, I appreciate the leap of faith."

He was teasing her. She playfully smacked him on the arm lightly, to which he just smiled and laughed. They continued the small talk, with her inquiring about Henry and what was planned for his future here at the castle, and with him trying to just ease her mind. He knew it was hard to be here, and he knew she was nervous and scared, and frankly, she should have been. The ball they would throw would bring hundreds from all over, all eager to get a glimpse at the Princess Emma, who saved them all; but such a station was hardly without its downsides and malicious gossip from other people would be one of many. A ball was a breeding ground of such behavior, and while he knew she could handle it, he didn't want to give them any more material for gossip than they were already going to come up with themselves.

They eventually made it to an open field, not far from the castle grounds, and Emma stopped in her tracks. She could hear the whinny of the horses from the stable across the meadow and shot a glance at James. "Horses? You brought me to a stable?"

"I thought we could go for a little ride. There's still a few hours of daylight left, and there's something I wanted to show you."

There was a hope on his face she wanted little to extinguish, but there wasn't much she could do. "Except the most I've seen of horses are from the cops and carriage riders in Boston. I've never even been on one."

He wasn't to be deterred; a devilish smile emerged on his face. "Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?" He began to walk towards the stable, where a young man looked to be leading a rather large horse out into the pasture and tying it to a post. He waved at James, and James waved back with a smile.

"Hello Westley. And how are you on this beautiful day?"

"Fantastic, you're Majesty." He replied with a smile, turning to Emma. "And you, ma'am? How has your day been?"

She smiled at him. "Much like yours. Except James here is aiming to get me on one of these things," She eyed the animal, which snorted at her glance. "And I'm not sure I'm too keen on it. I mean, I'm wearing a dress."

James waved the excuse off. "There should be a few spare pairs of riding breeches in the stable house, am I correct Westley? If that would make you more comfortable."

"Aye sir, there are."

"Would you please show the lady to a changing room then?" He smiled at her once more. "She'll want to be dressed comfortably."

"I seriously, cannot believe you. I'm telling Snow all about this." She threatened as they walked away, and he swallowed the laughter at the look on her face.

"And oh, will she love to hear it," He said to himself, walking into the stable to gather the necessary accessories for a trail ride.

His daughter and the stable hand emerged a few minutes later, her hair now bundled atop her head and she walked easier it seemed. He smiled at her approach; the long dresses had obviously been an adjustment and long pants seemed to be a relief for her.

"Okay. You got me in pants. What am I doing?"

He handed her the bit and the reins. "I am going to show you."

"Okay. Now small, short tugs; you don't want it so tight it's gonna squeeze her; now make sure you can slide your hand in there. Good, that's good." James smiled at Emma as she latched the cinch under the mare's belly. She stepped back with a satisfied grin, admiring her work as James stepped forward and adjust the stirrups. "Okay. Now the fun part."

He stepped a foot into the stirrup and pulled himself over. He looked down at her from up high and extended his arm.

She looked at it ambivalently, looking back to the young stable hand, the trail back to the castle, then back to James. She took his hand and smiled. "First time for everything."

The younger man came over once she was atop the horse, at James' beckon and finished adjusting everything. The horse shifted beneath her and she stiffened, her arms wrapping around her father's torso tightly. He chuckled at the moved and her eyes narrowed in a glare.

"I'm never going to survive this." She muttered, looking down at the young man touching up some of the equipment on the horse. "If I die, would you please tell Snow and my son that I love them?"

Westley couldn't help but grin at her dry tone, as James rolled his eyes. The stable hand nodded. "As you wish, my lady."

"Now if you're done being melodramatic..." James began, but he turned to her. "In all seriousness, make sure to hang on with your thighs, not your heels; that sends mixed messages to the horse and we don't want that. Hang onto the saddle, or to me, whichever feels better for you."

"No heels, hold on. Got it." She responded shakily, but with a weak smile. She had protested enough, but she had to admit, there was a very decent sized part of her that was a little excited. She trusted James; he wouldn't put her in a situation that she would get hurt. She placed her hands on the saddle and smiled. "Ready to go!"

"Alright then. Then hold on." He picked up the reins and dug his heels in.

And off they went.

They came to a clearing finally, and Emma realized she was out of breath. "That was exhilarating!" She gasped, her arms still locked tightly around his midsection. He smiled back at her, looking so very pleased with himself.

"Just imagine when it's your own!" He laughed and brought the horse to a stop at the top of a ridge, amid a few trees at the edge of the clearing. He slid off the horse and led her to a tree where he tied the reins, and then helped Emma from the saddle. He motioned with his head for her to walk with him a few feet. As they came where the ridge dipped, he squatted to the ground. She did the same, and followed his gaze.

It was a very, very small cottage, sitting by itself in the middle of broad, open pasture. Smoke rose from his small stone chimney stack, and chickens ran free in the yard in front of the home. Behind it, pens could be seen where sheep grazed. His expression was wistful, leaving Emma confused and lost.

"What exactly are we looking at?" She asked softly. The look on his face was one of meaning, so she didn't want to be sarcastic or cruel, but she truly did not understand its significance. After a few moments, he smiled.

"I grew up here. My mother still lives down there," He nodded at the home. "Tending to the sheep. To the farm. She has some help, which the King sent to her when he was still living, but she is still alone." He sounded pained, and without thinking, Emma placed her hand over his own. He clutched it.

"I...I don't understand."

He sighed. "I was born to a shepherd-my father-and his wife, and raised as such. Until one day, the Prince was slain and they needed another to fight a dragon, under the pretense that he lived. That man was my twin brother, and so I was called upon...by Mr. Gold."

He referred to Emma as she knew him, for familiarity's sake, but Rumplestiltskin was still abounds, allowed to run freely as he had helped to resolve the curse cast by the Queen, regardless of the part he had played in allowing it to be cast. Emma, for her part, was speechless.

"I...I don't even..." She shook her head. "Sounds like a telenovela to me."

He barked a laugh as he pulled at the grass. "That it does."

"Are you going to go see her?"

He didn't speak for a few moments, eyes not leaving the ground; the corners of them crinkled. "No. No, not today."

She decided it would be best not to push; he looked positively aggrieved and she knew there had to be more than just a simple no, but there had been enough sharing for the day. So they sat for a bit, in quiet, just watching the smoke curl from the home, until the sun began to set on the horizon.

When they eventually made their way back toward the castle, and arrived, the stable hand took the horse right from them to put it away and they made their way back home just in time for supper.

"I want to apologize," Emma began, having changed back into her linen gown, her hair falling down her back. "For being so negative earlier. For just assuming, when you were just trying to help. I didn't even entertain the idea that you could relate to what I was going through. It was wrong, and I'm just, I'm sorry. I'm still getting used to this whole thing."

"You don't have to apologize, Emma." He smiled softly at her. "This is going to be a long journey, for all of us. I'm just trying to let you know that, Snow and I, we're here, if you need to talk about it. We understand that you're out of your element."

She nodded as they neared the courtyard she and her mother had spoken in earlier, and when she blinked, felt warm tears in her eyes. /Oh Christ, please no/. "She just seems to want this all so bad, and I don't want to disappoint her. To let her down. I just want to be everything-"

"Don't do that, Emma." James stopped hard in his tracks, stopped her as well with a touch of his hand to her arm. "Look at me." When she tried to keep walking, his voice grew firm and he tightened his grip. "Emma Swan, you look at me right now."

It startled her and she turned sharply as they neared the large double doors of their home. He brushed a hair from her forehead and softened. "You are everything we ever could have wanted. You are smart, and brave, and beautiful, and kind. You're honest, and you're a good mother, and the only thing we don't like is," He had to stop; he could no longer continue, as it felt like his breath caught in his throat. He pursed his lips, and looked around to catch himself. "We lost you, for so long. And it's the only thing. That we can't take credit for this wonderful, strong woman you grew up to be. And we love you, so don't you be worried about disappointing us. There is nothing you can do to disappoint us."

She hated it at this point really, because she had started crying, and lowering her head and when he pulled her into his arms she didn't even fight it. These moments had not happened before with either of them and while she figured it was inevitable, she wished she was able to prepare better.

When she had stopped crying and pulled back slowly, wiping at her face. "I'm sorry, I'm a mess..."

"You're not a mess. I'd frankly be worried if we didn't have these moments now and again." He was smiling, tears bright in his own eyes as he moved his thumbs across her cheek, brushing the tears away. "Now how about I run some interference with Snow while you run to your quarters and clean up a bit before we eat?"

"That would be awesome." She sniffed and gave a small chuckle as he opened the door for her and she snuck ahead of him, up the winding stairs and out of view. As if timed perfectly, Snow blew into the corridor in a flurry.

"Hi." She greeted simply, pulling him in for a kiss. "Why are you all sweaty?"

He laughed deeply. "You love me when I'm sweaty."

His eyes were dancing with amusement, his wide smile causing her heart to race and neck to flush. She supposed there was time for this, walking with him quicker as they made their way to their chambers. "That I do. Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?"

Dinner had been a quick affair. By the time Snow and James had joined them, exchanging secret smiles with one another as they sat at a table with places set and food emerging from the kitchen, they had offered their apologies for their delay. Emma held of up her hand, a small smile on her face.

"Really, don't want to know."

Snow pursed her lips with a glance at James and settled in to make small talk about the ball she was planning, and about what other business was going on in the kingdom.

"I hear you got to ride this afternoon?" Snow ventured a glance in Emma's direction, who paused her fork in mid-air. A blush rose on her face, her eyes darting to James.

"Ah-ha, I did, yeah. Yes." She corrected, at Snow's double take. "We...rode through the woods. He wanted to show me the landscape. Very pretty."

Snow smiled. "That's wonderful. Did you like it? We could look into getting you your own horse, if you'd like. Henry, too, if he would like to learn to ride."

The excitable 11 year old took over. "YES! I want a black one, with a white stripe on its nose. I'll name it Lightening, and I'll want to race him! And I want to learn how to shoot a bow and arrow...!"

He kept chattering, enthused by the offer and Emma sat back to watch, a smile on her face. He was in his element here, amongst the magic and fairies, castles and queens. It was enough for her, really, to see him so happy. She would adjust, she knew; but regardless of how she had spent the day with James, regardless of the beauty of this realm and this new world, she still felt as if it was not hers.

James watched her as she looked on, heart aching, hoping he could ease the discomfort. This was her home, and she belonged here, and she was his daughter; it was his job to make sure she felt that way.

"Is your meat cooked well, Emma?" He asked her, pulling her from her thoughts. She looked over, almost startled but smiled tightly. Still uncomfortable; a square peg in a round hole.

"It's delicious. The potatoes are really good too; whatever spices they're using, they're delicious."

James smiled warmly back. "Well that's good. Henry, what about you?"

Attention off of her, Emma seemed to settle, content with being in the background. James frowned inwardly; always in the secondary, never a forethought. Well that was going to change.

"Is everything alright?"

Emma started, turning around from a window to meet Snow's concerned face. When she didn't respond right away, Snow shifted awkwardly, crossing her arms in front of her. "Just couldn't sleep. It's late. Everyone's been to bed for a while." She explained finally. "Why are you up?"

Snow shrugged, walking to stand at her side to gaze out the window. "Same, I suppose. Wanted something to drink."

"Hot chocolate?" Emma asked with a smirk, which Snow mirrored, and suddenly, Emma felt relaxed, as if they were back in Storybrooke, and they were not fairy tales characters but simple roommates. "It was just easier, I think."

Snow tried not to show her disappointment, for she knew exactly what Emma meant. "I know. Sometimes I forget you didn't have a before, like us. There was nothing to come back to for you. And for that, I'm sorry." She paused to compose herself, her eyes finding the stonework of the floor before she continued. "I made my mistakes, and if I would've known those decisions would affect my children, I probably would've thought twice about them; if I had known what she was capable of..."

Emma scoffed, interrupting her. "But you didn't. Plus, without those decisions, you would never have met James." And I wouldn't be here, she thought to herself, the fact still bizarre.

Snow shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not." She sighed, resting against the stone sill. "Is it not enough?"

Both were silent for a few moments, assumedly with Emma contemplating her answer. "It's a beautiful place," She said finally, and Snow figured she would take what she could get.

"We don't have to have to have a ball. You don't have to do that, if you're not ready."

"I want to." Emma was quick to reply, to reassure. Because she loved Snow, she did, and she wanted to make her happy, but she also wanted this place to feel like home. She wanted this life to be hers and she knew the only way that would happen is if she did these things. Soon, it would be home.

Snow just smiled back. "Good. Great! Would you like to help me then tomorrow? There's some planning that goes into it..."

"I would love to. Guest lists and all that." She smiled for real this time; maybe if this became a regular occurrence for them-being able to be real, and talk over these things, as if they were still just roommates and best friends-this would get easier. "I appreciate the chat. I think I'll be able to sleep now. I was just...thinking."

Snow nodded, reaching out and taking Emma in a loose embrace; she folded into her mother's arms, returning the gesture. "Well then, we will take brunch in the garden as we plan. I will see you in the morning. Sleep well, Emma."

She watched Snow walk away, her breath in her throat. "It's more than enough." She finally got out, stopping her mother in her tracks in the doorway. She turned, her eyes meeting Emma's, who continued. "It is. It's more than enough, I just, I just need time."

"Take all the time you need, baby." She breathed, and Emma could see tears in her eyes. Her own blurred at the sight. "Have a good night, dear."

Emma stood silent, a lump in her throat as Snow turned and walked into the dark.