#ruby x morgana

Ruby pelts towards the cry, and nearly collides with Aithusa’s snarling head. His disguise broken with the curse, the dragon stands between Ruby and his mistress, head low and wings unfurled.

“Aithusa, it’s me!” Ruby’s gaze travels behind the beast, to where Morgana’s all but collapsed to the forest floor. Her mouth gapes in silent agony, hands pressed to her side, her chest, where phantom wounds stab and bleed in awakened memory.

Aithusa wilts, allowing Ruby to pass. Ruby slides to her knees, wrapping her arms around Morgana as another cry tears from her throat. The ragged sound cuts Ruby to the core, but she hugs Morgana to her chest. 

“It’s okay,” Ruby murmurs, though Morgana doesn’t seem to hear. She’s trapped, caught up in a torrent of memories Ruby only knows pieces of. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere…”

Morgana screams and screams.

Ruby doesn’t let go.

Morgana’s cries eventually quiet, and she falls into a restless sleep against Ruby’s chest. It’s there in the woods that Snow and the others come looking and find them. Together, they get Morgana home.

There she sleeps, for days and days.

Her skin grows fevered, with the return of Morgana’s gifts. Glass vials spontaneously shatter and candles roar with flame, as magic surges through Morgana once more. It lasts for days, but even after things calm, Morgana’s rest isn’t peaceful. Her dreams turn very dark indeed, and Ruby spends each night soothing the nightmares away, only for a new one to take its place.

On the morning of the fifth day, Morgana wakes. She’s herself again, and everything that entails. She rises with solemn features, and cleans up the mess of shattered glass. She says very little, and her gaze is far away.

Ruby hovers, unsure of what to do.

Later that night, Morgana retreats to her reading room, and curls up close to the fire, as though the heat is the only thing to chase the chill from her bones. Ruby gives her a moment alone, and uses the time to brew their favorite tea.

When she hands it to Morgana, Ruby lingers, sitting close enough to touch, but hesitates to offer physical contact. 

The fire is the only light, and in the flickering shadows, Morgana’s lips tremble.

“I wish I could have stayed Morgan forever.”

The whisper cracks with tears. When Ruby reaches for her, Morgana leans into her, shaking in silent sobs.

Morgana has more to remember than any of them. But they have each other, and that would have to be enough.

After that, Morgana’s role doesn’t change. She keeps to herself, in her shop on the edge of town. Regina tolerates her, Rumple needles and digs but stops just shy of action. Ruby leaves Granny’s for good, and stays as close to her love as she can manage.

They nearly lost each other once. She isn’t about to let it happen again. 

They help, sometimes, when crises come– and they always do. But when it comes to magic, the others hesitate to involve Morgana. Her magic is deep and old. To ask for her magic would be to summon a tsunami to fill a bucket.

No, they leave the tricks and glamours to Regina and Gold– and the Chosen One, eventually.

No, when they come to Morgana for magic, it’s when they find a starry velvet hat in an empty house that appears in Storybrooke.