Work Text:
Shopping with Morgan had given Giselle new places to see, an array of streets and stories and activities that went by in a whirlwind. They were experiences that were enjoyed to the fullest, like how Giselle met most things in this strange new world that had slowly integrated into a part of her.
Shopping with Morgan also gave her an opportunity to keep an eye out for Pip. Even if he’d probably snark that he had everything under control when she found him. She wouldn’t get married without Pip by her side.
In addition it was a way to completely get her mind off her thoughts. She had never been one to push her thoughts away back in Andalasia, but it was just as well because life wasn’t so complicated in Andalasia.
It kept her from thoughts that she had fallen off the beats of her true love’s duet. Edward didn’t challenge her, make her think of arguments, make her consider other options for her love life or give her the joy of sharing her perspective with all her heart. He was sweet but they were only ever on the same page back in Andalasia.
And when she would push away her thoughts she would guiltily think that she ought to think of that place as home because she meant home.
It kept Giselle from silly thoughts that her prince wore a blue suit in her dream, and every other detail had been smudged in the ways that dreams could be, and the blue was so stark that it sent a thread of doubt for her to pull. Edward never wore a scrap of blue.
It kept her from wondering if Robert would ever wear blue and what that would look like. She kept a tight hold on her straying heart in those moments.
Giselle kept them locked away as their shopping spree continued, like Morgan was having her take in an entire lifetime’s worth of New York fashion that could suit her for years and years. Giselle didn’t have any doubt that Morgan wanted her to stay too but they both had to be optimistic that farewell didn’t mean good-bye forever.
They happened upon a cute, little boutique. The floor was designed like a black and white checkerboard and Giselle idly wondered about helpful little checkers before remembering that objects didn’t live in this world. Soft music crooned in the store and Giselle was still amazed that music played out of nowhere in some places. It wasn’t ever present like it could be in Andalasia (home) but it seemed New York had its own magic.
Giselle and Morgan browsed the store, giggling at times as they drew out different dresses from the racks. Morgan had taught Giselle how to estimate what a dress would look like on her so she held a few of them in front of her. Morgan shook her head at them and Giselle was not fond of the lacy, scratchy material they had so she put them back.
They continued to browse and rounded a corner in the boutique to a new section of the store. Morgan pointed and gasped.
“Oh, Giselle, look!”
On a mannequin was a sleeveless purple dress, a rope of jewelry connected at the front and going around to rest at the nape of the neck. It was a slink sort of dress that went to the floor and was devoid of any frills or ruffles or layers.
Morgan’s reaction meant Giselle had to wear it right away. Giselle grabbed a rack that held the dress and hurried to the dressing room, changing into it like her life depended on that action. The dress felt cool and unlike any material Giselle had worked with before, and she smoothed it down before she stepped out.
Morgan squealed and she ran to take Giselle’s hands. “I knew it’d look perfect!”
Giselle laughed and slipped one of her hands out of Morgan’s hands to place it on top of Morgan’s head.
“Know why it’s perfect?”
“Why, Morgan?” Giselle asked, her hand brushing through Morgan’s hair.
“Purple is the color of royalty,” Morgan said, like she read it from a book. “And you’ll be queen when you get married.”
Giselle smiled. She pushed down those thoughts, locked them up, and she knelt down to Morgan’s level.
“A queen can declare titles,” Giselle said seriously, looking at Morgan right in the eyes. Morgan nodded, like she took every word out of Giselle’s mouth as truth.
Giselle placed her hands on Morgan’s shoulders, did a hand motion that would befit a fairy godmother and Giselle knew for sure what that looked like, so her words would be true in Andalasia and in New York.
“Morgan, I declare you a princess.”
Morgan squealed again and she threw her arms around Giselle. Giselle chuckled as she put her arms around Morgan and slightly rocked her from side to side because Morgan was so happy it was infectious. It was a moment that made her long to stay just a little longer in this world that was once so frightening.