Make Doll Clothes
You combine your own scraps with some odds and ends from around the House to make a sort of little Doll, and outfit it with the Clothes you have been sewing absentmindedly while listening to Nolle tell his story to Säve.
That has been a remarkable thing, by the way, to witness. Nolle in achingly beautiful Pastel abundance, Säve in plain, close Black. At one point, Säve is sketching Patterns, presumably crystallizing Nolle’s Psyche and History into mostly-abstract but perhaps vaguely facelike Geometry, while trying to get Nolle to expand on a Thought. It seems like quite a lot of work in order to devise a single Mask, and yet not so far from the amount of exploration you require to settle on a Concept for a Dress.
Säve, sketching and swaying, presses Nolle on some mundane subject about him that you would expect people not to be that interested in. Why he eats his meals one Item at a time, keeping any Item from touching any other. Of course there are Reasons, but who would ask them? It seems clear that Nolle is not used to having a person genuinely want to know this much about him. Has never felt the honest permission to say everything on his mind and have it be heard and have it matter. You are not used to that either, and you worry about what it will feel like when your turn comes. You suspect you will weep at least as much as Nolle is now.
Around the time Nolle’s Story catches up to the Present, and you are putting the final embellishments on the tiny Dress, you realize that you have designed an entirely perfect garment for Nolle himself. Precisely the task you were mortified of being called upon to do. It embodies his delicate quiet, his fascination with the combinatorially complex, his baroque aesthetic. The thing would be frightfully challenging to realize at full scale — overflowing with white Lace and Frills, fine, vivid Ribbons, and Pewter details. But you are confident that if it could be made it would be the ideal thing for Nolle to wear. Even, you dare to think, moreso than the Lacedæmonian. Certainly more than that bold wine-red and midnight-blue velvet gown. You quietly put the Doll away before anyone asks you about it.