Those words prompted a mockery of a hurt look on Aisling's face, an effect ruined by the way her amusement crinkled up the little lines at the edges of her mouth and the corners of her eyes. "Come now, I'm quite good at at providing the proper level of reassurance in such matters. It's one of my few skills, along with slaughtering small animals and collecting far too many books." All of which she intended to read. Someday.

Darian's inattentiveness was a bit hard to miss. Ah, the trials of the young attending to the old. "But I'm sure you have far more interesting tales than I. Or to the dress, if you wish. I know you must be busy."  Everyone was busy, this season. Buried amid wanted or undesired expectations and obligations.

For now, she'd settle for another one of the little cakes.

"Perhaps you ought to refrain from mentioning the animals?" Darian suggested, winding an errant curl around one finger. He stretched it into a long line of red tension, smiling, teeth glinting in the light, "If you want to be reassuring. Those poor, scarred muggles."

"Busy, yes - " He snapped his fingers, more dynamic than rude. The released tendril of hair bounced back like a spring, curling just over one fashionably pierced ear. "I had almost forgotten, lost in such pleasant company as yours. Tell me about this dress you'd like, then, and I'll whip you up one smart-quick."

"And I would hate to frighten them. Particularly when the subject is one where it is not just Muggles who seem to find it unpleasant." There was the smallest flash of something sharper behind her warm, rather amused smile. Those lovely knives were not merely for show.

Her eyes followed the swift snap of his fingers. "But the dress. You are quite familiar with my tastes. I know enough to give precedence to your judgment. Perhaps, a bit fuller of a skirt than usual? And just a touch of Ravenclaw blue. I'd hate to be blatantly dull with it."

She leaned back just a little, allowing herself to display a small pretense of exhaustion. "And I do hope that I won't be expected to engage in too much of the dancing." It sounded a rather tiring proposition.

"Of course," he said pleasantly. "Any preference of fabric? Light or dark? Though I am delighted to have such free reign, I'll admit I'm used to choosier clients." It would take no time at all for him to whip up some sketches and send them to her for her approval. In fact -

Darian whipped out of one coat pocket a small muggle notebook, no larger than his hand, and a ballpoint pen. One simple expansion spell later and his fingers flew over the pad. At this stage in his career, it was nothing for him to draw upon his knowledge of gown silhouettes and his memory of what suited Aisling best. Generally she opted for elegant and classic designs, with conservative necklines and a tight waist. So he went ahead with the fitted bodice, though as for the fuller skirt...

With a flourish he ripped the paper from its wire binding, sliding three sketches across the table towards her. Not too many for her to process at once - an instinctive habit from his day job, not giving his customers more options than they could handle. Three different necklines were laid down in bold, precise lines, each fit dependent on the fabric he'd had in mind. As for their skirts, the shape of each varied from the witches' traditional bustle to a modern bell curve. Darian did not often make dresses which could be in any way described as "floofy," scorning them for a more stream-lined look. His preference when he did adopt larger skirts was to provide bulk with fabric, not with underwire shaping, layering cloth in folds or petals or strips. "Which elements do you like best?" he asked, tapping the end of the pen on his chin in subdued, jittery excitement. There was a light in his eyes, just short of manic, that matched the genuine happiness in his grin. It was a charming look on him, this artistic zeal, one he certainly took advantage of when it came to making sales.

"I was leaning more towards light. The season can be a little dark this time of year."  Aisling poured herself a bit more tea, and smiled at him over the rim of her cup as she took another sip. "And as I said, you're familiar with my tastes. No need to constrain the artist too tightly when he has already proven himself."

A statement Darian confirmed quite swiftly with his sketches. It was good to see that enthusiasm, that energy. Things had been far too quiet about Moonmoth Hall, after all. Aisling's own life tended towards more quiet, soft gestures. Especially in these years.

She stared at the sketches for a few moments, eyes flickering between the details of a skirt here, a neckline there. Her eyes were drawn to rough petals, to some quick lines of waist and bust. "This, I think. And this." Slim fingers motioned to one point, then another.

Darian hummed his agreement, scribbling quick checks next to the elements Aisling approved. "All right," he said, sliding the drawings back to himself and tucking them away in his blazer with a flourish, it seemed, that was quite instinctive. "I'll start work on it right away. If you have the time I might like to get you to come in and try it on for any last-minute adjustments before I send you home with it, perhaps..." He consulted his mental schedule and the date of the Yull ball, an occasion which he had well seared in his mind given the other commissions he'd taken. "In a week's time?"

Now he rose with an apologetic smile. "This was lovely, but I must dash. My thanks for the gift, the tea, and the lovely company. May I count on the pleasure another day?"

"I'm sure I can find the time to come in. And thank you, it was most good to see you." One of the perils of growing older was becoming boring to those much younger. Aisling had lost much of her taste for adventure some years ago. Though it could be argued she had never had much of it.

"This was lovely, but I must dash. My thanks for the gift, the tea, and the lovely company. May I count on the pleasure another day?"


"But of course. Do let me know when you have time, I'm sure you're quite busy." It was the season for that, after all. Aisling expected to be consumed by the activities of it soon enough. "Perhaps next time you're over your uncle will be about to admire your work." Her smile turned bemused. That prospect would probably result in Tarron privately grumbling about his nephew's choices in life and clothing afterwards, but that was a very small price to pay.

Darian would never be so gauche as to suggest his aunt's company was boring, either with his actions, thoughts, or words. Indeed as he gathered his coat and presents he was all regretful good manners and benign company, genuinely sorry to cut their visit short. But time was money, after all. His own family had taught him which to value more highly. Aisling had escaped that sin by marrying in.

"Perhaps next time you're over your uncle will be about to admire your work."

"Oh - " his grin sharpened - "I look forward to it." Indeed, that he had not had a chance to scandalize his uncle was a minor disappointment. "G'day, m'lady. Shall the elf see me out?"