in the kitchen, cooking; open reception
Emma had always thought that she'd be better by herself, because then she'd never get hurt. But Mary Margaret's words had been exceptionally truthful, but locking herself away she wasn't just keeping people out, but she was barricading herself in. The last few months, she'd started to understand just what loneliness was, because she'd stopped feeling it.
Stroking her free hand along Jefferson's shoulder and bicep, she pondered the situation for a moment, "I think they miss it, I don't know if they could ever really adapt to Storybrooke and what there is there, because they miss the Forest too much." She remembered Snow's wistfulness at being there, remembered the distress at it being so ruined and tarnished. "I think they're too ingrained in that mind-set to really let it go."
Because that's who they were, wasn't it. Prince and Princess, or King and Queen, whatever it was now. That's who they were and they had a kingdom and they ruled it. And really, would they ever have been truly happy in Storybrooke? Just being Mary Margaret and David? Even if they'd become Mr and Mrs Nolan. Would that be enough?
"If they had a choice... I think they'd go back." And that left Emma in a bit of a bind, because the Land Without Magic was all she'd known, all she'd had. Sighing, she buried her face against Jefferson's shoulder blade for a moment, "Do you miss it?"