(April , 2011: Author's Note: Ok, so now that I am back in the swing of things, here's the deal: Because I have grown-up things to do (like taxes) and not a dissertation and other college papers to avoid, I am not writing as much as before. Alas. Still, I think on this tale often and my New Year's Resolution was to spend at least a few minutes a day on writing of some sort. I've been doing ok and we're on month four so wahey! There is hope! If you just read the last fifty-one chapters (plus prologue), then you are up to date. If not, a notable change I've made is to bump the timeline a little so Katrin's visit is taking place closer to the end of September, making the October dates we see here more accurate. I also gave this a thorough once over and fixed TONS of spelling and grammar errors (though I am sure there are plenty more), switched the spelling to American instead of British (since I am back on this side of the pond, it makes more sense), and have finally figured out who is who (whose bright idea was it to give Katrin five brothers, anyway?). And remembered, for the most part, where I was going with the little details. Also, Chris is now "Christopher" instead of "Christoph." I think that's all the big stuff. Phew! Enjoy.)
Chapter Fifty-Two: What to Wear, What to Wear?
Bill stood in front of the tall mirrors, inspecting the dress robes he currently wore with severe intensity. He looked sharp enough, to be sure, but was 'sharp' the look he was looking for? His mind wandered back to what King Jareth had told him the week before:
Anything you can do to make yourself more... Wizard-like and less... non-magical Mortal, the better. The High Fae often are most comfortable with the foreign when they can categorize with extremes and archetypes.
Unfortunately, Bill was not all-too familiar with what the visual differences between a Muggle and Wizard might be. So he found himself standing in Gladrags Wizardwear in London, surrounded by stacks of opened boxes and garment bags, piles of discarded robes in numerous styles on most surfaces.
"Your looks would greatly improve if you would stop scowling at your reflection, Bill."
Bill started at the unexpected criticism. Looking over his shoulder he found Charlie sitting on one of the cushioned chairs in the corner. "Hey!" He stepped down from the fitting platform and crossed the room to greet his brother. "When did you get in town?"
"This morning. Stopped at home first thing. Mum said you would be here during your lunch break so I thought I'd try to catch you. I'm only here until tomorrow night. Got a pick-up day after tomorrow and then it's back to Romania for another couple months."
"Good thing you stopped by, then. I've got a big event for work I'm being sent to first thing in the morning."
"Mum mentioned that. Hence the new dress robes?" When Bill nodded, Charlie looked him up and down. "They look nice. Ring it up and let's go have lunch."
Bill sighed and went back to the mirrors. "The problem is I am not sure 'nice' is the right adjective I need. It's too complicated to explain why right now, but apparently I need to make an impression as a Wizard, not only one that presents the dignity of the occupation, but also defines himself as the furthest thing from a Muggle as possible." He gestured toward a stack of magazines piled on the table in front of the chairs.
Charlie picked one up and flipped through the catalog of Muggle formal wear. He looked up at Bill, back down at the magazine, and back up at Bill again. "Hm."
They remained in silence for several minutes, Bill continuing to look at his reflection dubiously, Charlie flipping through more of the magazines and brochures. Their contemplations were finally broken when a clerk came out of the back room. "Well, Mr. Weasley? This is one of our finest sets of dress robes. And I must say they are most flattering of the ones you have tried on so far. What say you?" The silence that met her question lasted just shy of what might have been considered awkward.
"They are very nice..." He hesitated.
She sighed the sigh of a put upon woman who had been in this situation for far too long, one too many times. "But?"
"I don't think they are quite what I am looking for."
"Well," she was speaking slowly, and with the patience of someone about to snap. "What are you looking for, precisely."
"There's the question, isn't it." Bill rubbed the spot between his eyebrows.
"Here's a thought," Charlie offered. "Do you have anything you would put on, say, Albus Dumbledore for a formal occasion?"
The clerk, an older Witch named Mabel if her name tag was to be believed, turned to Charlie. "That sort of style is usually preferred by the older Wizard, one whose clothing choices help to visually define precisely who he is rather than having anything to do with the modern trends so popular in someone of your or Mr. Weasley's age." She seemed ready with a litany of other protests but was interrupted before she could proceed.
"No, no," Bill said, stepping off the platform once more. "That actually is the right idea. Nothing quite as, er, extravagant as what a Wizard of Dumbledore's status might want, of course. But I think it needs to lean ever so slightly on the, outlandish or... or..."
"Eccentric!" Charlie supplied.
Bill pointed at his brother. "Yes, eccentric."
Mabel narrowed her eyes at Charlie, then concentrated on Bill, seeming to appraise his very personality. "Perhaps..." A slow smile lit up her face, her eyes filling with mystery and plotting.
"He could always try something that is definitely too extreme and then back off," suggested Charlie. "Get it going in the right direction?"
She nodded slowly before waving her finger at Bill and making her way to the back room once more. "Actually, I think I may have some things that will work just right. You just wait right there. It's a pity you did not mention this was your aim when you first came in; I would have begun with a whole different tactic..." She continued talking as the door shut behind her.
"Good grief," Bill said when Mabel was finally out of earshot. "I have never in all my life taken this long to find something to wear."
"How long have you been here?"
"About two hours."
"Two hours? I thought you were here on your lunch break!"
Bill shrugged and leaned against a mirror. "Management appears to be on my side because of the magnitude of the event. It was arranged I could take the rest of today off to get everything in order. I should have had this done by now, but gathering that Muggle stuff took several visits. And, after the past three days of 'lunch breaks', I am not sure if Madam Malkin's will ever allow me on the premises again. I swear, I feel like I have a better appreciation for what girls must go through when in this situation."
"Speaking of," Charlie grinned. "Too bad your girlfriend couldn't have helped you out with this problem."
Bill sighed. "True. I keep telling myself I need to get through this thing for Gringotts and then I am determined to find a way to break the news to her."
"Oh ho! Not denying she's your girlfriend, then?" Through a couple owls, Bill had kept Charlie vaguely informed on the situation with Katrin and Charlie, in return, supplied plenty of what he considered to be helpful opinions on the matter.
"Well, it is not a conversation we have had or anything," Bill shrugged again, "but I admit to thinking of her that way."
"Considering she flew all the way over here and is extending her stay just to work around your schedule to spend time with you, I guess it is a good sign."
Mabel burst into the room right at that moment, stalling any further conversation on the subject. Her arms were laden with a stack of large boxes in a variety of colors. "Here we have it, Mr. Weasley. I had to wade rather far into the depths of our stock room, but I think I have come up with some perfect options. Now, most of these will be far too, what was the word? Extravagant for your age and tastes, but perhaps if we use some of the items to accessorize what you already have on we can create something all your own style." She had a delighted gleam in her eyes "These are more specialized items which will bring the price up, but I'll throw in some pairs of socks to even it out."
Charlie met Bill's eyes as Mabel unstacked the boxes and started opening them. "That is very generous of you," he said, his glance flitting over to the display of outlandish socks taking up most of one wall. Bill suppressed a grin at his brother's doubtful expression.
"Oh it is no trouble at all, sir! I do so love helping a Wizard define himself this way! I remember when Mr. Lockhart first came in all those years ago. One of my co-workers snagged him before I could. And with all the publicity she moved up rather quickly in the fashion world!" She looked up at Charlie. "Perhaps you would like to be next, sir?"
"Er... Well, there is not much need for, er, fashion, when tending to dragons, actually."
She sighed. "Well, that is a shame but I suppose it is true. Now take off that outer robe, Mr. Weasley, and let us try this one on for size."
Katrin thought it strange when Christopher told her the Gala would take place the day after she arrived Underground. She had expected her presence to be needed sooner. Not to help with the planning and the details, perhaps. But she knew her mother would be pulled in several directions at once and Katrin thought she should available to help her in whatever capacity she was needed.
Yet when she arrived, everything was already orchestrated and in place, down to the minutiae.
Granted, she the afternoon included a three hour session with her father and Christopher, during which they went over the schedule and the seemingly endless list of guests from the Court of the High Fae. But that was more for Katrin to know what she needed to know as opposed to make suggestions or corrections. The only things left for her to do, it seemed, were several fittings for a new set of regalia.
Katrin sighed heavily, enduring the process of the second one as patiently as she could manage.
"Stand up straight, Highness," the Goblin seamstress instructed, "an' try not to fidget." From her tone, Katrin could tell that her patience was wearing thin as well.
This really came as no surprise. There was a reason why new Court finery was a rare occurrence. Even though nearly everything around them, including the world they lived in, was created entirely by magic, had magic at its very core, if one's full Court regalia was crafted any way but meticulously by hand it was considered at the very least an indication of laziness. And, more likely, reason enough to have one's status in the social circle of the Fae lowered.
That Jareth had his family's regalia made in-Kingdom, by Goblins no less, elevated his.
Apparently, because this was the largest Gala in some time and taking place in the Kingdom of the Goblins, those in the Court of the Goblin King were to have an entirely new set. Katrin would have thought this to be reason alone for her to have returned Underground sooner rather than later. Yet, here she stood, trying on a newly crafted gown designed under the direction of her mother and crafted based on measurements taken some time ago.
Thankfully, she thought, little has changed in that regard. How a Goblin had been discovered with the skills to create a garment as delicate as what adorned her now, let alone with enough room in the seams to make adjustments at all, was a true mystery. But Katrin supposed it would have been helpful if the deadline for the garments was not less than a day away.
Katrin sighed again.
"Highness, no fidgetin'," came the firm but gentle rebuke.
She closed her eyes, thinking about the mood everyone in the Castle seemed to be in. Edgy, to be sure. And again, no surprise there. When she asked him about it that morning, her father told her a Gala had not been held in this Kingdom in his memory, which went back quite some time. For reasons unexplainable, her parents' wedding did not count. Just a little bit of pressure, then, to get it right I guess.
But there was something else, some undercurrent of odd that she could not put her finger on. She only got this particular feeling from her parents and elder brother. They seemed to be sharing a secret, Christopher hiding it terribly. I probably would not have suspected anything if he would not have been so sketchy whenever he knew I was around. She contemplated this revelation for a bit. It's true... I walked into the room a couple of times and he was his normal self. But as soon as he noticed I was around, he'd get all weird. Skittish, almost, and anxious.
"Highness..."
"I know, I know." She had not even gotten the sigh out that time. Guess I'm a little skittish, too. In an effort to remain calm and, as instructed, not fidget, she let her thoughts drift instead to her recent adventures.
"Well." The squeaky voice pulled her from her thoughts some time later. "That should do it for now. I would like to have you in it one more time this evening just to make sure and we can call it done. If that is convenient, of course, Highness."
Katrin nodded. "Yes, of course. But when do I get to see it in the mirror?"
"Oh, not until tomorrow, just before you wear it in public for the first time. You know that!"
"I'd rather hoped that rule had changed, actually."
The little seamstress clicked her tongue. "Not a rule; a tradition!
Goblin traditions. "Ah. Of course."
The Goblin snapped her fingers and five more female Goblins scurried into the room. It required two ladders, but they undressed Katrin and carried the garment out without her being able to see much beyond the fabric, and that she had seen while she wore it.
Alone in her room, she dressed in a pair of orange fleece pajama bottoms with bright, pink pigs wearing snorkels and an oversized t-shirt. Her choice in garments was more a statement of rebellion against the injustice of not being able to choose her own outfit for the Gala than anything else, no matter how lovely she was certain it would be, but what she chose was also comfortable. Finishing the outfit with bunny slippers, she went in search of dinner.
