"Well," Dreogan looked anxiously at the heavily rouged woman, "I hadn't really put that much thought into it. . . the more I think about it . . ." Dreogan glanced nervously to his fiancee for some sort of salvation.

These questions regarding occasional flatware--which didn't, as he had supposed, mean the flatware that gets occassionally used because it's stored in the back of the drawer, or mismatched--but ones for special occasions like dinner parties and black-tie events--made him question everything.

These were the sort of occasions that made Dree nervous imagining in the confines of his own home. The woman'd just asked how many people they'd invite to such an event in their home.

"I'd imagine . . ." he counted the number of members in his family. In Akiva's. "Well, eight. But really- I'm not sure we'd have black-tie occasions in. . ."

"Eight's a very good, round number for a dinner party." The sales associate primly wrote down the number in pencil on a sheet of computer paper, filled with odd codes and blank fields.

Muggle shopping, and Muggle registry was much more baffling. Excepting his brief foray into the Muggle consumer culture in order to buy Akiva her bracelets, he had always been supervised. Wizarding culture was much easier. People bought what they wanted you to have. Not what you wanted to have. This whole registry thing was clearly for Akiva's Muggle friends--who would be attending the reception later. Quite a difficult event to navigate. One drunken wizard firing off celebratory fireworks, and they'd have a lot of explaining.

Which was, really, why one oughtn't to be having too large of dinner parties. It was, really, a PR disaster. How they were even going to manage a wedding for either culture or society was usually difficult enough for most couples. But both simultaneously. . . Getting ahead of yourself, Eleor.

But besides all that. . . the Eleors were well provided for, in terms of cutlery and dishes and the like. They had a whole vault at Gringotts' full of golden flatware, goblets, and heavy pewter chargers. They didn't really need to be registering for any of this. Particularly for things like toasters.

But . . .

But Akiva had wanted to come, and  he suspected that Akiva would want something a bit more. . . modern.

"Now. How about china?"

Dreogan swallowed. "Akiva? I think. . ." Provided she didn't spend too much--well, but it wasn't their money, was it? "She's the expert," he said with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

The idea of registering for wedding gifts was exciting for Akiva.  Regardless of what they actually needed, it was something you did when you were getting married, and she couldn’t help but be happy for a note of something traditional on their big day.  With everything else piling up in the lives, she liked to feel like she was doing something everyone else did.

The idea had been so exciting that she practically begged that they do it together.  She didn’t expect what she was getting into though. 

She had never really trusted what she saw in movies about the sojourn, always thinking they might have been exaggerating the whole thing.  Her real though thought was that they would go in and look for things that they actually wanted for their house – kitchen things (what she was really looking for), and maybe some furniture things – not so much! 

The stories her friends told could not be trusted either, she thought.  She knew, when she was invited to other weddings, she went in and invariably ended up buying them something inane for the house, but she figured they wanted those things… Her figuring had been completely out of line. 

The woman who immediately gravitated toward them had the clipboard and the prim questions to ask, perhaps they’d picked the wrong store for this… They wandered into the section with the dinner party plates and all of that, well, if she was feeling anxious, she did her best to hide it.  Dreogan, on the other hand, looked absolutely flustered. 

She was going to take it as it came though, and peering from set to set, wandering cautiously, as to not break anything, she was not sure if any of this really suited their lifestyle.  She knew she had been excited before coming – that they were going to be doing something every couple did, but she was quickly realizing that they were most assuredly not every couple.

At the sound of Dree calling her name, Akiva glanced up from a white set with silver dandelions painted on them – who would want dandelions on their plates? 

“Oh,” she smiled a bit, looking toward Dree to offer some comfort.  She could see it on his face how much he was not enjoying this.  She’d have to make up for it later… “I think we’re looking for something simple – no leaves, or butterflies, or anything like that,” she refrained from commenting on the bizarre dandelions.

The woman made a note on her clipboard, her already small lips pursed tighter together.  “I think I have something to suit your taste,” she said with a marked lack of enthusiasm.  Perhaps the ones with fanciful designs on them were more expensive… Akiva did not care, she preferred dishware that could be used for every holiday, as she imagined those were the times when they’d have people over anyway…

She glanced at Dree as the woman stopped near white plates that definitely didn’t have any flowers or birds on them – but had a design that reminded her of a silver wedding cake.  Looking at the price tag, Akiva had to stop herself from letting her eyes bulge.  “This,” the woman started, “Is one of our best selling sets.  The design is very popular right now.”

The thing was, Akiva cared very little for what was popular – she did, however, have the inclination to remain as polite as possible, and clearing her throat, she attempted to smile.  “Well,” she glanced at Dree, “It’s lovely – but… perhaps something less… busy?” 

The woman’s eyebrow piqued.  Akiva smiled nervously, “Right this way then…” she said tersely.  Akiva took Dree’s hand, leading him after her – it was going to be a long day.

Akiva took his hand. Which made all of this a lot easier, he found. He was starting with that. Then he was reminding himself that this was for their wedding, because they were getting married.

And then, really, kitchen items were just one of the things people registered for. There were plenty of other rooms in the house. And really, there were plenty of things couples did with each other. "Hey!" he whispered excitedly to her, as he thought of something, "they have an outdoor sporting goods section here, yes? Maybe--we could look at tents. . ." He grinned and looked at their sales attendant. She was talking, but he pulled Akiva back to give her a squeeze. "They've also got sleeping bags for twoooo," he crooned as he gave her a brief peck on the cheek.

When Dreogan looked back at the attendant, she was looking at them with a forced smile. "You two are so cute," she said with a tone that Dreogan was trying to decide was either forced or sarcastic. He did a ring check. Nothing. He decided on forced.

"Sorry," he stated. "We're listening. Akiva's just been explaining to me," he began to lie like a schoolchild, "that she likes vintage. . . retro. . . stuff?" He'd heard her use those words before. But she'd been talking about dresses. Not plates. But surely the same principles applied?

While the saleswoman explained something about the plates – some sort of description of the material they were made of and how anything else would be subpar, not that Akiva minded.  She assumed they would not be tossing the plates around, nor would they be knocking them onto the floor, the material was going to matter very little if they were well taken care of, and she was instantly pulled out of the description by Dree’s whispering.

Leaning closer to him, her smile already widening – seeing him actually having an idea, wanting to participate made her feel better.  She would have felt terribly if they went through all of this and he remained miserable at the end – and really, there should be things that would be useful beyond the confines of their home on the list. 

Kiv did not really notice that the woman had stopped talking as she was pulled into a happy squeeze and kiss on the cheek – giggling softly.  “That sounds promising,” Akiva giggled back, swinging their laced hands back and forth a little – only to be interrupted by a clearing throat and the somewhat sour appearance of the saleswoman.  She did not appear to be amused. 

Akiva floundered, red pigment brightening her cheeks.  Thankfully, Dree picked up for her and though the woman looked at them skeptically, it was at least going to suffice.  She glanced at him with a sly smile as the woman turned to lead them toward a more ‘suitable’ display and Akiva leaned her mouth toward his ear, “Luggage too – I expect we’ll use it well enough.”  The woman glanced over her shoulder at the pair and stood next to a display.

“If you would prefer,” clearly she was humoring the pair, and trying to be as pleasant as possible.  Even Akiva, who was not the most astute people reader, could see that, “We can come back to  china if you would prefer.” 

Kiv smiled, probably as forced as the woman who clearly did not like to break from her routine in these sorts of things and looked at Dree, “That might be good… to give us time… to think about it,” she needed that – with so many options, they should go to something they really knew they would want.  “The outdoor section first, I think…” she gave Dree’s hand another squeeze, “we like hiking,” she explained.

The woman did not seem to care much about what they actually enjoyed doing though, and juts nodded curtly.  “Of course,” she said finally, and turned, leading them away from the bright  and packed area toward the outdoor section.  Kiv giggled softly behind the woman’s back  - trying to avoid being heard, “She does not like us.” 

At the mention of luggage, Dreogan smiled. They already had one trip planned. And hard as it was to break away, Dreogan had learned that his present sanity was perhaps only attributable to the residual healing effects of their Valentine's Day trip. It seemed a necessity, to unwind.

The woman's emphasis on their preference was accommodating, even  as it also managed to simultaneously drive home the rift between their preferences and hers.

"She does not like us."

"Kiva," Dreogan said in a mock-patronising tone, "that is impossible. We are the most likeable people in the world. Watch."

Though this woman had about her an air of. . . Gertie-ness that Dreogan couldn't quite shake off. He'd have to make it a point not to accidentally walk off with any merchandise, like he had inadvertantely done with a library book on his first visit.

"Of course," the woman said staunchly.

"Thanks," Dreogan agreed in his most diplomatic tone. "We appreciate it. You must have made a study of all this china--how long does that take? A few years, I'd imagine?" He was feeling his comfort level--initially forced--increase as they moved away from breakable things.

"I've been with this company for eight years." She replied primly.

Dreogan followed after their chaperone, squeezing Akiva's hand as he did so. "So you're the authority here, then. Seems like we picked the right woman," he said.  "Or did you pick us?" He smiled. A bit strong, perhaps. No harm in trying. If worse came to worse, they could just cut their losses and register elsewhere.

Besides. The china was hideous.