Cupcake. Emma thought. I look like a cupcake.

She stood in front of the full-length mirror, dressed in a gown of so rich a fabric and so covered in jewels that she was sure that it could keep a village in food for at least a year. She twisted her slim form every which way while glancing at her reflection, alternately admiring the obvious exquisiteness of the gown and cursing the corset that made a better instrument of torture than any sort of garment.

The gown itself was made of a pale cream satin, which cascaded down her body in elegant waves. It flowed gracefully with even the slightest movement, despite the layers of tulle underneath. The corset style back was threaded through with matching silk ribbon, and the décolleté glittered with an abundance of sparkling gems. Even she, who had never seen let alone worn such things in her life, could admit that it was an incredible gown.

A flutter of movement behind her in the mirror caused her to turn. She smiled as her mother and father entered the room, knowing that this day was one that they had been dreaming of for over thirty years. Though this ball and this dress were not exactly her idea of a good time, she knew how important this celebration was to them. I was more than just a ball celebrating the restoration of the kingdom. To her parents, this was her welcome home party.

They had fought hard for this night for close to two years. Many had been lost once they had returned to this land and done battle with the ogres. Rumplestiltskin had been the one who turned the tide in their favor in the end. They had not been sure of his help, but ultimately, he had come when their need was most dire, and a deal had been struck. Emma wasn't exactly sure what he had wanted with the lock of her hair, but it seemed a small price to pay for the years of happiness and prosperity that were now theirs.

The war was finished, the kingdom once again at peace and ruled by its rightful King and Queen, and all was well. Now if only she could make herself comfortable in this damn dress. That would really take some magic, she thought ruefully to herself.

"You look beautiful Emma," breathed Snow, tears of overwhelming joy forming in her eyes, "I'd always hoped that I would see you standing in this room, dressing for your first ball," she sniffed.

Emma smiled awkwardly at the floor, still feeling so unsure of how to hold herself in this ridiculously large dress. Her father placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and she raised her gaze to meet his own.

"You look lovely, Emma. You can do this. It's just a little bit of dancing," he chuckled jovially with a grin, knowing full well that, in Emma's mind, they might as well have asked her to run barefoot across a bed of coals. "We're going down to the ballroom, but take whatever time you need."

"Just don't be too long," Snow smirked at Emma over her shoulder as she and Charming made their way towards the door, "He's waiting for you."

An entirely new, yet slightly more pleasant set of butterflies filled her stomach at Snow's parting words. Though the thought of attending a ball was even less pleasant to him than it was to her, he had consented to come tonight. She turned back to the mirror and straightened the voluminous skirts once more, all the while biting back a smile at the thought of him dressed in formal clothes like the ones her father wore. She had not yet seen him, as it had taken her several agonizing hours to dress to Snow's exacting specifications, but she could hardly wait.

With a swish of taffeta and silk she hurried from the room, suddenly impatient to join in the festivities. Her heeled slippers clacked against the cobblestones, the noise echoing up and down the corridor. She emerged onto the landing of a large double staircase; it's twin flights of stairs rising to meet her on either side. Below was the main entrance to the palace. By now, the guests would all have gathered in the ballroom. She could already hear the sound of laughter and music drifting up from below. She walked to the edge of the balcony, looking down on the foyer, and caught sight of a single man standing below.

They had been through so much together. He had fought by her side through every battle, saving her as many times as she had saved him. It had taken her a long time to be able to admit she loved him, but she had never regretted it. He had proven himself to her time and again, and now that the battle for the kingdom was at an end, she was ready to begin afresh with him, and explore all that this new and exciting world had to offer, together.

As the sound of her heeled shoes stopped, he turned, and catching her eye, grinned up at her. She smiled back instantly, unable to help herself. As dashing as he looked every day, he looked simply striking in his new attire. He wore a black velvet jacket, with a crisp white linen shirt underneath. A red silk sash crossed his chest, pinned at his side with a lavish ornament consisting of a single, blood red ruby surrounded by diamonds. His muscular legs were sheathed in black breeches, and black boots encased his feet.

His grin turned to a smirk as he caught her staring, "C'mon princess," he teased with a laugh, "you can admire me better from down here!"

She rolled her eyes but moved towards the left staircase, eager indeed to admire him up close. Her heart was hammering within her chest. She was nervous in a way she hadn't been since she was young. Love. She reminded herself, I'm in love, and he loves me in return. As she came around the curve in the staircase, she smiled as she watched his expression change upon seeing her gown. The banister above had kept her mostly hidden from his sight, but now she was completely visible. No more hiding.

"Emma," he breathed, "You look..." But words failed him. He could do nothing it seemed, but stare. She felt the intensity of his gaze, and caught a sudden heat and flicker of passion reflected there that caused her to shiver involuntarily. She stepped forward until she was mere inches from him, her hand reaching out to caress the side of his face. He closed his eyes, and leaned into her touch, his hand coming up to cover her own and hold her there.

"I love you, Emma Swan," he whispered fervently, his eyes flickering open to catch her own.

Her breath caught in her throat as his ardent declaration; ringing with such simple truth enveloped her. His arms encircled her waist, drawing her closer to him. She tilted her head, and closed the remaining gap between them. Stopping just a hairs breadth away from his lips, she smiled once more.

"And I love you, Killian Jones," she murmured in reply. Her lips moved forward to claim his, and for one small, blissful moment, they were all that mattered.