There was a mischievous giggle. “It’s only for the more annoying mortals. Really I just keep it around for the children’s center in the church. Sometimes your father steals a vial for more elaborate displays, but he likes to be a little more loud than I do.” She placed the vial back on the shelf and turned back to Raven after placing a kiss on his cheek. “You’re welcome. Not sure what you’re thanking me for, but you’re welcome.”
The curse might have put her as a nun, but with the curse broken it was hard to reconcile nun logic and fairy logic. They conflicted in some areas and meshed in others. Be elusive? Be hidden? Yes, obviously. But there were others that didn’t work. Mortal dogma certainly didn’t work and these stories of exclusion felt painful and alien to her very fiber.
She didn’t have to be a nun anymore. Sister in name, but not in practice. She’d do as she always did...but she’d be one of the worst nuns that Storybrooke would ever see in return. “Some fairies were known for helping mortals and upon being betrayed, we’d let them know in the most painful ways. A little glitter in the hair seems harmless in comparison to wrecking an entire workshop. Sure it never comes out of your clothes but... it’s almost forgiving. Sure you shine like a disco ball, but that’s a lot nicer I think. Tells our ancestors we’ve learned forgiveness...Kind of.”
If that meant showing support for Raven, then she was more than happy to get in touch with her fairy side than ever.